On Friday, I thought about taking my wedding ring off my finger.
My husband and I were not getting along that day or the previous night. I had hurt him by continuously digging at him, framing my jabs as jokes. And I was hurt by his seeming reluctance to want to be my friend. This time though the hurt felt different, more final and complete.
We both forgot that this Friday was Good Friday.
And I wanted to take off my wedding ring because what was the point in being married if I made my husband’s life miserable? what was the point in being married if we weren’t each others’ friend? what was the point in being married if he doesn’t like to read and I’m a writer? what’s the point if he hates that one song that I’m obsessed with? what was the point of any of it if our relationship doesn’t reflect Christ, even on the surface?
On Good Friday I realized that I don’t have a relationship with God anymore. Not really. Sure, I pray sometimes. I give thanks for the obvious things like an income and a new apartment. But the intimacy I had with God in undergrad was long gone, slowly sucked to dust over three years by a vampiric devil and my complacency.
And I told my husband this: that I’m not myself anymore, that the girl he dated three years ago was me, that the woman he’s married to now is just a robotic shelled animal who has nothing left to give, that I have not been poured into and I have nothing to pour into others. That I can’t wait until we graduate before we say hello to God again. That I can’t wait and can’t live without emotional and spiritual intimacy with my husband.
And I know how easy it is to cut ties with God, but He is fighting for the both of us. I kept the wedding ring on.
So praise to the honest and intimate God who will continue to make me into the person I am meant to be and to take me into the valley where I can look up to the mountain and see Him at His highest.
And praise to the Christ who rose again so we can have intimacy with God and with those around us.