God can restore. Your life. Your marriage. Your relationship with your kids. There is nothing He can’t restore.
I can’t restore my life. I didn’t restore my marriage. I didn’t heal my relationship with my kids. There is nothing I can restore in my own power.
This new creation I am. It was not done by me. It was not formed or thought of by me. But God working in me broke me free.
My marriage. Please. If it was still in my control, well. Yeah. But marriage where God is in the center, where we have both committed to serving God first, each other second and others third…that’s when the healing began.
When I am irritable with my husband but put a smile on my face when I walk in to a room of other people — who does that serve? Not my husband, not the one I am called to love and care for! So why do we do that? Are others more important than the one person we have vowed to love, til death do us part?
But I do it. More often than I care to admit. Why? Well. My first thought is that he has to love me. He has to forgive me. I can apologize later. He doesn’t get to not talk to me for a week because I’ve been a jerk. (Believe me, he’s tried. I’m a little annoying sometimes. It’s ok. It surprises a lot of people. 😉 )
I feel safe with him. If I don’t want to put on my “everything is awesome” face, why should I? I have to do that enough at work and everywhere else. Can’t I just be real when it’s just the two of us? Not pretend life isn’t one stress after another?
Sometimes I don’t feel like being sweet. Sometimes I think about something that brings back memories of something he did wrong (so what if it was 10 years ago?!?!) and I want to be mad for awhile.
I feel justified in my madness. Did I get to be mad about it 10 years ago? Or did I stuff it, along with all the other hurts, because that was easier than the alternative.
So it’s ok. Because he needs to do his amends for that.
Ohhhhh. Wait. I need to tell him what I’m mad about? I can’t just be mad and expect him to know? Um. It was only 10 years ago. He should just figure it out even though he barely remembers who the presidents were sometimes. (Ok, a little poetic exaggeration here, but you get the idea, black holes, memory loss, huge gaping holes in time)…
And then, maybe, possibly, there’s a little youdidittomesonowicandoittoyou going on. (If you can’t read that it’s ok. Not sure I’m quite ready to deal with that one yet so letspretendididntsayit.)
Whatever the reason I can say I have made a huge step in the right direction. When I start to be cranky with Rob and nice to the rest of the world, God calls me on it. Like, in my face, did you see what you just did there? Calls. Me. Out.
So I’m aware. And I try to self-correct.
Well I mean. Sometimes. Like when God trips me up and points it out. And I hear Him. And sometimes I even listen.
Not every time. I’m not perfect. I don’t think God expects me to be. But I’m better. I’m aware. I’m taking one moment at a time. One victory. One challenge. One istillthinkiamjustifiedaboutbeingmad moment at a time.
I’m a work in progress. God’s work. He’s restoring me. Slowly. Some moments I’m more willing than others.
The other 23 hours of the day, He has a pretty hard job. And I’m pretty glad He’s in it for the long run.