Oh, how I despise the anonymity that a dark bedroom brings. Courage comes out when you're not looking at each others faces, seeing the tears and expressions of hurt. Things are said that don't need to be said.
If I can't say it to your face, quite frankly I don't want to say it at all.
The subject matter matters little. The point is that we were both hurt and upset, both for valid reasons. Neither was wrong. Neither was right. And it may have been the late hour, but I was rocked to my core about this fight. I laid there trying to explain to him why the sobbing wouldn't stop, and I really had no idea. My best guess was that something he said triggered a deep hurt buried somewhere inside my heart.
His response was perfect. He didn't completely concede his point, which I was grateful for. I never want my tears to work as a tool that wins arguments. He gently continued making his point, and I did my best to fully engage in the conversation, but my mind was racing as I tried to search my heart for where this emotion was coming from. He asked me why I was silent and I explained as much to him.. I told him I was praying- asking the Lord why I was reacting this way.
We laid there quiet for a short while. Then he drew me closer to himself and spoke words of comfort to me
"You know this is a safe place, right? You know that no matter how much we argue, no matter how angry we get with one another, this is a safe place. We can fight and get mad and it won't change a single thing between us"
"Mmmhmm" I nodded and tried not to cry harder. The tears no longer angry or sad.
He placed his hand upon my chest over my heart. The weight of his warm palm caused my breathing to slow.
"Jesus, I lift Melissa up to you" He began.
He prayed that our words would be guided by Him, and asked that whatever hurt I was experiencing would be comforted. He asked that a peace would fill the room. He prayed for my heart- that it would be healed, and then asked that through this, we would glorify the Lord, as we seek to do in all things.
It was the perfect fight. Not because we communicated well- although I think we did not too bad given all my crying. Instead, because in the moment when it seemed like we were not in control of the situation, my husband- my amazing, wonderful, spiritual leader of a husband did exactly what we should always do. He gave it back to the Lord. We took it in our own grasp for a moment, trying to figure it out for ourselves, and when that didn't work (as it often doesn't) he offered it back.
Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul.
Linking with Emily at Imperfect Prose today...
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