What Happens When You Just Don't Care

Well, I kind of snapped last night.
Luke has been extremely busy with work and school lately. For some reason, his boss scheduled extra hours at the hospital around the same time his professors scheduled extra homework... AND, he also downloaded a new computer game lately which is "very fun." Several hours worth of fun, it seems.

Have I mentioned quality time is important to me?

And since I haven't had some good Soul Talk with an earthly friend in awhile, and since I started feeling sorry for myself about all the alone-time I've had, and since I was tired of asking God to fix problems in me and was ready for Him to just fix someone else for awhile, I got mad. And when Luke started drifting off to sleep instead of talking through it with me, I got more mad.

Of course, there were other complications. Luke could tell I was upset, and he isn't very good at the "talk through it" part. He tends to get defensive, and he also translates my point of view as me telling him he's wrong.... it makes our conversations drag on and take on a circular form. Luke either gets frustrated enough to get sarcastic, or he sits silently...and eventually starts to doze off. (By the way, my intent isn't to hang out Luke's dirty laundry for all to see. He would admit to all of this.)

Anyway, eventually I tried walking out of the room to show him how mad I was, but that just made the room quiet so he could sleep better. So, I spent a couple minutes praying very loudly to God--telling Him I didn't feel prepared for this bickering because my heart was hurting and I hadn't been built up properly thoughout the week. I told Him I was starving for Christian fellowship, and the fact that I don't often get it from my own husband was more-than-a-little irritating. And I thought it was cruel of Him to expect me to continue my quest for selflessness when that left NOBODY to take care of me. (It's how I felt, okay?)

And I was especially loud about it, partly because I felt like yelling at my Dad in Heaven for how unfair he made this life, and mostly because I hoped my volume would disturb Luke's peace. But, when that didn't work, I finally told God, "I don't care about being selfless right now," and I stomped back into the bedroom to flick on the light in my lover's face.

I got more mean from there.

I said, "I'm so tired of crying by myself in the living room!"
"I'm so tired of praying and reading scripture and calming my own soul, without your help." And then said, "It's probably selfish what I'm doing right now, but I don't care. I want to punish you for this."

These were the honest, angry words of my heart. I felt all of it. I meant all of it. And I was telling Luke the truth as it seemed to me in that moment.

Yet, here's the truth as it appears from a better-rested perspective, from the vantage of the "me" who is off work for the day, looking at the blue sky, fresh-from-devotions, and who has receieved several uplifting compliments about my blog, my teaching abilities, and my character in the last 8 hours. The truth from this positive frame of mind is that I'm married to a wonderfully loving, patient man.

He let's me yell when I need to, even if he has no idea how to help me. He is quick to confess his wrongs--at least much quicker than I am. And he loves me in a way that makes me understand Christ's love better. I've never doubted Luke's devotion, EVER.... He is a safe person with whom to be angry because he never holds grudges or threatens to leave. He never makes me feel small on purpose or tries to tear me down. I've never doubted his love for me, even during the times I doubted whether I could love him properly. And that counts for a whole lot.

I'm happy to report we did not go to bed angry. And, I'm pretty sure I avoided the F-bomb, unlike the last argument we had. (I'll have to ask Luke because sometimes blinding rage messes with your memory.) Anyway, as usual, I burst into tears once I unleashed my anger, and Luke held me and apologized for letting me go so long without his companionship.

But why do I share this story? I'm still sad about the time we lost this week, and I know we have a long way to go before the root issue is "fixed." We found sore spots during our discussion, ranging from priorities to passion. We questioned our communications skills and talked about how unfortunate it is that we don't always WANT to spend every waking moment together--as we did years ago. Ours was a multi-faceted dispute, so in that sense, the problem isn't "over."

But I needed to share the story of the Time I Just Didn't Care, in favor of confession (Hi, my name is Amanda, and I'm recovering from complete Self-Obsession. Last night, I relapsed.) And also, to encourage you there IS peace and forgiveness on the other side, once you start caring again.

Sorry, Luke. Sorry, God. I'm ready to do better.