His holes – her pain

Sometimes things don’t work the way you expect.

Getting married is like purchasing an umbrella.  We don’t actually open the umbrella in the store to see if it works, we assume that when it rains, we’ll be able to depend on it.

Our love, like an umbrella, should cover each other.  But in the rainstorm of conflict we reveal the holes in our love.  We can’t see the holes, we feel the result of the rain coming through them and we get wet.  Who can see the holes?  Of course, God can, but so can Satan.  He’s watched me grow and knows where all my wounds are and where I am most vulnerable.

I hold my love over my husband.  It is an imperfect love, at best.  I don’t want to love imperfectly, but I can’t help it.  All hearts have been wounded:  by parents, siblings, family, unkind teachers, unfair co-workers — hearts ravaged from this imperfect world.

Brokenness, short sightedness, impatience, woundedness, selfishness … deficiencies.

 Holes

During sunny days we don’t notice or feel the holes.  But eventually there will be a rainstorm … again.  I try and hold my umbrella over my husband, but those holes keep letting the rain pelt on him.  I need his forgiveness.

 He gets wet through my deficiencies.  I get wet through his.

With the tables turned, I’m drenched.  I can choose to focus on being wet – my flesh being hurt and irritated … self.  Or, I can choose to forgive.  Satan prompts me to seek self.  He wants me to feel the wet, believing my husband has ripped away his umbrella.  Satan rains on me through my husband’s holes.

In an effort to hide their motive a predator  will distract focus. To blame my husband’s holes proves I have been successfully blinded to my real enemy.

 

Life is not about waiting for the storms to pass … it’s about learning how to dance in the rain! ~ Vivian Greene

 

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