Sucker Punch

My wife and I are both wounded individuals, there's no denying that. But Friday totally took us both by surprise and damn near ended us.

 We've been struggling with some relationships with a friend that just seems to continually drive a wedge between and it seems intentional. Well I offered to take action in the forms of stating there would no longer be any electronic communications between us and that any communication should cease.

 That was the set up.

 See, my bride started coming at me because she felt as though my communication was throwing her under the bus. That probably has something to do with her wound, but I'll leave that to her to determine. Point is, for hours, me expressing my love for her and taking a stand on behalf of her and our relationship was being used against both of us. She felt I was picking the wrong side and simultaneously throwing her under the bus and I felt she was going crazy and was going to attack me no matter what I do in the relationship. Both messages were coming through loud and clear.

And then the sucker punch.

 I had got to the point where I didn't want to be in the same room, much less the same building as her and so I grabbed my back pack and headed out. Our four year old daughter was sitting there on the couch and asked where I was going. My reply was, "out". But as I'm halfway down the steps my wife says, " He's leaving, Matilda." Pause for effect. "Because it's easy."

 Little did she know the powder keg she just lit. Hell, little did I know.

 You see, I've had a previous relationship where I had a child "hid" from me. I say hid, because initially I was told that this child was the product of an affair my then wife had on me. It wasn't until the child was six years old and I received pictures that were proof enough this young lady was indeed my child that I came into her life, if ever so briefly. See mom was bipolar and had a prescription drug habit that she couldn't kick. Now I don't know which particular drug it was I just know that she overdosed on our child's birthday after I left town to get back to work. Then my child's maternal grandmother totally flipped her role from enabler to get him the hell our her life at all costs lady. She was stalling. I offered DNA testing at my expense. She waited until she had Kenley for 180 days and then filed custody on me even though the divorce papers say there was no child born of the marriage. Apparently in Texas that means $1000 a month and no parental rights.

 My ex, and then my ex's mom used my child against me in such a way that I still do not have a relationship with her to this day. I have no idea what she thinks of me but she's made it clear that she doesn't think highly of me and doesn't want me in her life. Apparently that wounded me deeper than I ever realized.

 I let my wife have both barrels Thursday night. What started out as a rough argument and me getting away to get some beers and some space to clear my head, instantly turned into HATE and RAGE toward my wife. F bombs flew via phone and text every time she tried to call me or write me. I said things to her a woman should never have to hear.Especially from her husband.

 I was still mad all day Friday, even though I was so sick and drugged up on cough medicine I was only away for a few hours.Today I wasn't mad, but I thought for sure my love was dead. I didn't think there was anyway I could forgive her for what she'd done. But I didn't know I wasn't mad at hurt. I wasn't hurt by her. What she did triggered dormant hate and rage in me that I didn't know was there. But she took the brunt of it.

 I've wounded her by what I've said and done that night. Shame. Guilt. Worthlessness. Those are all things I've made her feel. My pain has been transferred instead of transformed.

 And I didn't see it coming.

 I pray she forgives me and God heals me.

Men's Bacon

Men's Bacon

 Is there anything related to food, of late, that is more glorious than crispy cured strips of pig meat with the attached chew of fat? I dare say, "I think not." So much so the church I'm attending makes a habit of using the smoky meaty flavor to entice men and older boys to rouse themselves from Saturday slumber to attend a breakfast built around it in hopes of building community, and perhaps allowing someone an opportunity to bump into Jesus, or be exposed to his love, no strings attached. It's marketing and spiritual genius. but that's my opinion.

 As glorious as this get together is from an experiential standpoint, this time around I'm scared to death to attend. I've been asked to be the speaker. FOR 15 TO 20 MINUTES!?! I was asked to share my story. The funny thing is, the "yes" answer escaped my lips before the thought seemed process in my head. It was the 5 minute reality delay that was the real eye opener. And why I feel so nervous about the whole ordeal.

 How do you share a story when you feel so caught up in it. Especially when it's not going as well as you hope it would be after all this time of being exposed to this thing we call church. That's our thing: Understand the significance of our personal story, bump into Jesus, and get on mission with him. 

 I see the significance of my story. I know my wounds. I know the areas I need work in the broadest sense. I've gotten closer to Jesus. I know and have experienced relationship with him. I've been on mission where my passions intersect his direction. But right now, I'm getting my ass kicked. I've almost lost my wife of 9+ years, which would have destroyed the hearts of our six kids. Right now everything feels as though it's hanging by a string, but still I feel led to do this.

 I know there is power in the story. That the pain of it can be transformative, not just transferred. I'm so tired of the pain being transferred, even in the smallest ways. I want it to become powerful in the sense that it gives hope instead of chasing it away again.

 So I'll pray. And write. And hope.