Do I Believe?

     Last night I read my last blog and it said that I saw, along with others, "opportunity written all over" this.  Here we are a few weeks later and my husband has been hired by Samaritan's Purse.  One of their facilities is just a few miles from this house we're renting.  I still don't even know how he came across the advertisement for the job.  He applied as a fleet mechanic/driver/volunteer director and against 3 or 4 odds and after around 15 hours of interview, he landed the job.  It's decent pay and good benefits.  It's less than half of the bring home pay we're accustomed to.  Most anything would be now that he's no longer self employed.  At this point though, it's not about the money, not at all. 
     I sit here, shamefully I suppose, still in disbelief.  This time 3 years ago I had a husband who wouldn't even say my name, wouldn't allow me to cry, would belittle me in front of the children, would threaten divorce and even suicide regularly, would tell me what and how to do things without regard to my experience or opinion of them, would buy or borrow whatever was "right in his eyes", would never say he was sorry.  I have more on the list I made a couple of weeks ago, but there's no need to dig deeper.  I was "convincing" myself just how different this man really is, despite the "issues" we still have.
     There are those who would ask, "Why must you keep bringing up the past?"  Believe me, I haven't brought it all up because that is his to do.  I hope in this writing I do that a wife will find hope, will persevere and know that people really do change, that God is still at work, that "feelings" are no basis for decisions, that "love" comes in so many forms.  The truth, the hard truth matters because in one of my most open blogs last year, I got a message that just said, "Thank you."  That woman, a classmate of mine, is dead now.  What I had written meant something to her.
     My computer has been on the brink of crashing, so it seemed fitting and with the support of family and friends, I began writing in a notebook the beginnings of a book.  I have several pages and ideas going.  The immediate "gratification", if you will, brings me back here.  There is something very special about writing what's on my heart in the here and now and having the people I care about gain something from it or correct me right away.
     That same day a couple of weeks ago, I made of list of things about him that drive me crazy and very quickly thought of some things that I do, which I conveniently deem harmless, but do the same to him.   We are "new" creatures who are nicer to strangers than we are to each other.  We can't harness much from the past to go on.  This is an entirely different "being", this marriage we have.  Mike went full throttle into capturing romance and because we hadn't become "friends" yet, I haven't found a comfortable place there.  This is going to be a long haul.  Thank God we have the rest of our lives to get there.  To Mike it feels like "never" right now and to be honest, it does to me, too.
     God has been showing me the picture I am in the mirror.  In my efforts to run the household when he's gone, to survive emotionally, to remain stable; I became severe.  I've become almost unisex and by that I mean, taking on both roles of gender.  A soft answer comes hard for me.  I don't always scream them out but I'm very matter of fact, too matter of fact.  I've been compared by him recently to some characters and personalities that I simply can't stand.  I've lost, or more likely never had, the fullness of womanhood.  It's there for the taking right now.  My husband has stepped up to his rightful position, the thing I've pleaded to Heaven for all these years, but now I have these subconscious reservations, conditioning of the deepest kind.  I know very well some of it is trepidation, a fear that this isn't really happening, that it's too good to be true, that there's no way I could deserve for it to be this good.  I'm not alone; some of the children are dealing with it the same way. 
     The thing is that it's not about us.  God is that big.  He does things beyond our imaginations and the "fear of amazement" I alluded to in a post, which I'm aware in the context of 1 Peter means the fear of terror, still
makes me think of the fear of miracles, the doubt, the pathological hardness toward them.  I'm still trying to believe this, that my husband, the father of my children who were hardly glad to see him arrive home not that long ago, is calling listening to "Lead Me" by Sanctus Real in sorrow for what he's done and in understanding of what he's to do now.   That he is in New Jersey to take part in the rebuilding of destruction, that he is entrusted to do so, that he has always been seduced by the mystery of weather, and possesses all the elements this job requires is amazing.  That he isn't "stuck in a truck" with nothing particular to look forward to is so good to me.  That he'll have "devotions" with his coworkers every morning, that he will be fed the things he's missed, that what the moths have taken will be restored are all still settling in with me.  That he doesn't have to hear the knocking of an engine he knows he doesn't have the funds to repair; that he doesn't have to gaze at page after page, hour after hour, of what load to take, to then only argue with the broker about the rates;  that he doesn't have to live off fast food, but instead get meals covered with blessings prepared for him; that he isn't living behind a steering wheel blows ...it all just blows my mind. 
     For most of my life, I've understood that I am to respect his position; however, that duty does not by its very nature cause love for the person holding it, so where I have to go is to combine them.  Somewhere, little by little, I became almost impenetrable, a strong wall, lost my vulnerability to my husband and my femininity along with it.  I used to contribute it to not "adorning" myself but it's really something else.  I'm very selfconscious in heels, mostly because I can't walk gracefully in them.  I'm very selfconsious in a dress, mostly because I don't like people to stare at my varicose veins.  I'm very selfconscious in big earrings, mostly because I don't want to look like a "wannabe".  There's more to it though.  I don't care for ribbons and jewelry, for soft colors, for giggles and other girlish things.  I've left someone behind.  In my utilitarian, get it done 'cause somebody has to, mentality; in my don't attract anyone because I'll be tempted to be who I was; in my don't cave to him because he'll consume me; in my, yes, I know God can do this BUT;  ...I'm not the gracious, lovely, meek Michelle who balances the fiery, passionate, emboldened one.
     I have as much growing to do as he does and I hope you will pray that we grow together into a threefold cord that our children can finally witness, so they will know that anything and everything is possible through Christ ...because all the goodness in the world doesn't matter if it isn't done at home first.  Do I believe that I will thaw while everything else is freezing this winter, while my husband is out being the hands and feet of God?  We'll soon see.