Recently a friend said to me, "I am not good with emotions." I replied, "I think that is true of all of us." She seemed surprised and said something along the lines of, "No. I think you are really good with emotions." I was really struck by her comment for several reasons. First of all, it made me pause and think about what it means to be good at emotions. Does being good with emotions mean good at managing negative feelings when they arise? Not ever crying or showing emotional upset? Good at sharing feelings with others? I never got the chance to really ask for clarification. Regardless, it was the comparative context in which the words were used that really struck me. She was implying that she lacked something that I had. Interesting. What could this be? Is she right? I don't think so.
Those of you who know me, I hope that I don't come across as having it all figured out, or that I have "it together." If I have come across as such, I humbly and sincerely apologize. That would be hypocritical of me. I do not have it figured out. I do not have my act wholly together. I struggle just like the rest of you, especially with regards to feelings. I feel too much, which in and of itself isn't bad, but I will admit that I let those emotions rule me too often and that is not good. I would describe myself as a very emotional person. I have learned over the years to perhaps control my emotions outwardly, but internally stormy waters are usually stirring. In Christ I have changed a lot. In so many ways I am a new creature, transformed into a better version of myself -- hopefully a version He can more fully use for His purposes. But my transformation is not complete yet. It will not be until the day the Lord returns. I still struggle with feelings of hurt, resentment, and anger from my childhood and young adult years. I still am learning to forgive and forget past wrongs done to me. I am still learning to show more grace to those around me. I am still learning not to bottle up my emotions, making things worse when they threaten to boil over. There are moments when I forget to put on my spiritual armor, and those are the moments that I feel the enemy attack and use my emotions against me. Before I know it, I lose my footing and I am swirling deep in a sea of emotions so powerful and so overwhelming that they threaten to engulf me and drag me under. These are moments when I am most fearful. Yet, these are also the moments when I feel the presence of Jesus by me the most.
Recently we had a family wedding reception to attend. I am an introvert at heart. I dread any large gatherings. They make me incredibly self-conscious and anxious. I dread large family gatherings most of all. Don't get me wrong. I love my family. I truly do. But for me, when it comes to family there are a lot of mixed emotions related to the past. Also, family can be so critical sometimes -- not because they mean to be hurtful, but because they can be so brutally honest. I have put on a bit of weight this winter. From day to day I really don't think too much of it because I am comfy in my sweat pants, leggings or baggy clothes. I am at home with the kids and there really isn't a need (nor time) to really spruce myself up during the week. I knew I needed to try and look semi-decent for this family wedding. I knew some people would inevitably comment on my weight (and pinch my arm fat); ask about if I am pregnant (which I am not) because I still have a post-baby belly pooch; or comment on my parenting. Even though my rational self was telling me not to be anxious, I could not help it. I stressed over what my kids should wear and what I should wear that would appear slimming and flattering. About 45 minutes before we needed to leave, I found myself on the floor in our bedroom, in the middle of an enormous pile of unfolded clean laundry (that had been sitting in our bedroom for a few days, but that is another story). I had emptied about 4 large baskets, so the floor was completely covered, and I was in the middle of this heap, throwing things around, desperately searching for black tights for my girls to wear. I must have looked like a madwoman. The stress and pressure of this event on top of the usual circumstances of life -- as crazy as it sounds -- seriously sent me into a full blown anxiety attack that I have not had in a very long time. I remember sobbing hysterically that I couldn't find the tights in the mess and then I became paralyzed. I just sat there crying, looking at the overwhelming laundry, feeling the weight of not measuring up to perceived expectations, and finally whispered through my tears, "Jesus, Lord, Help!"
That was when my husband appeared in our bedroom. He looked at me and asked, "How can I help?" I did not know how to respond to him. I just looked all around me in bewilderment, still sobbing. I seriously didn't know how to begin. For you see, it was more than the wedding. It was more than the laundry. The messy laundry pile was just a metaphor for the messiness of life. Emotions are messy. They are powerful and they take us by surprise sometimes and it's like we are swept up in a flood that makes it hard for us to see dry land. I was sobbing because I knew that it was irrational for me to be on that floor in such distress. I was crying because I was mad at myself for feeling this way. I was crying because I was ashamed that I again let Satan make me lose my footing. I sat there crying because I knew I should not be ashamed when I am in Christ -- that there is no condemnation in Christ. I sat in despair because relationships are messy. My husband and I had had a couple of really hard weeks of bickering and disagreements. I was tearful because of the messiness of parenting. I love my children but raising, shaping, and molding little individuals who have strong independent wills is so exhausting. My patience wears thin and I often lose my temper and then feel like a bad mother. It seemed like an eternity as I sat there, not knowing how to get up.
Without further words, my husband came close and began to pick up the laundry, bit by bit, and relocated it to our bed. Even as I still sat on the floor, slowly bit by bit I saw our carpet again. . . and it was as if bit by bit I was seeing dry ground again. I said to my husband, "why did you just move it to the bed, it's still a mess up there." Gently, my husband said to me, "I moved it out of your way for now so you can get up, and tonight and tomorrow I will help you to fold all the laundry." Miraculously he had even found the tights the girls needed to wear, so he went to help get them dressed. It struck me then that my prayer had been answered. In that moment, my husband demonstrated to me true love. He illustrated how true love finds us in our mess, rescues us, saves us, and embraces us. True love helps us to overcome our obstacles by sharing our burdens. True love sets us free from our own self-inflicted chains of fear, worry, anxiety, anger, and depression. True love redeems us.
My husband is my earthly true love, yet even his love pales in comparison to Jesus Christ's love for me. Christ is the ultimate True Love of our lives. Christ laid down his life for us on the cross. He died so that we could be set free from sin. If we believe in him we do not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16). Jesus did this out of the purest, truest, most selfless love to demonstrate God's love for us. In that moment, on the floor, in the mess, Jesus used my husband to bring me back to the light and remind me of how truly loved I am and how He is there to help me shoulder the burdens of this life. He said to me, "Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest (Matthew 11:28). He can do this for you too, if you would only let him. I pray that you will.
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