I slip my feet into the tub and sit quietly beneath the waters. Before I do, I glance at myself in the mirror and the image reflecting back reminds me I really haven’t eaten in almost a week. I want to do better but I just don’t have the energy.
Thoughts of going underwater flutter through my head, just for few seconds but just enough to know I’m in a dangerous place. Not only have I slipped my feet into the tub but I feel myself slipping, making myself small again, if not in voice than in size and wanting to drown it all out, if that means drowning me out.
I do not like these thoughts.
I wish I wasn’t such a feeler.
I recognize that I am and have been one all my life. I feel before I think and often get overwhelmed by them. I have allowed my feelings to distort truth, to BE truth, and have often been led astray by them.
But not this time. This time my feelings, or what I also know as my gut or intuition, helped me discover a glitch in the wiring of our seemingly happy Home and now my discovery makes me feel so incredibly sad.
I wish I could go back to last Saturday when we paraded ourselves as whole when indeed we were halves, longing for more all while continuing to settle for less than even pieces and parts.
I’ve kept my head full of Jesus today but sometimes Jesus doesn’t help. Sometimes Jesus asks that you help yourself and right now I don’t even know what helping myself looks like so I sit in the bath and make the decision that maybe for now, helping myself looks like showering quickly instead of drowning in a bath. Maybe eating despite feeling like not eating would be a good start. Maybe sleeping. Maybe I need to take care of myself despite how I feel about taking care of myself because at the end of the day, I’m believing the lie that if I had been more…THIS WOULD HAVE NEVER HAD HAPPENED.
And I realize this is what I do, I take on responsibility to fix. “If I would have been more than or less than, he would have been happy” because it’s my responsibility. He’s said I haven’t and those words fuel my thoughts and feelings and the hole inside of my widens. I find myself slipping further, growing smaller, wanting to disappear underwater.
I wasn’t enough. Or maybe I was too much.
Jesus sits on the edge of the bath with me and I can feel His Presence. He is watching me sort this all out and I don’t feel ashamed. I feel heard. I look around my bathroom, at the walls of this house and I realize I may not be able to stay here, in the house where we raised our family.
Dishonesty lives here and I’ve been sleeping with it in my bed. I had hopes, even just a few days ago, that it was packing its bags and leaving but it didn’t. It decided to stay and I refuse to live with it. Actions and words have continued to do not match and now I’m left staring at the walls in my Home feeling sorry for them. “I’m sorry dear Home. I’m so sorry.”
Jesus help. Please remind me in some way I don’t deserve to slip underwater, that I don’t deserve to be made small. That this isn’t my fault. Help my reject rejection and blame. Help me find a way to live with remorse all while longing for repentance. Fill me with hope, like the kind I had on Wednesday for my marriage when I thought things were moving forward honest. The kind that made my heart swell and open all big and wide. The kind that made me believe we could do this. We could do anything with a tiny amount of hope. But this time Jesus…
Fill me with hope for me.