Daniel SAFARI: Week 6

Shut the front door!  Are we really finished with week 6?  Wowza. Thank you so much, fellow Safari Sisters and friends who are following along, for taking the time to come read my thoughts and for sharing your own.  I know I was an especially poor bloggy friend this past week, since I was on my R&R trip to NC, but I'm back in the saddle again. 

This week's assignment corresponds with Daniel, Chapter 7--or the trip to the lion's den for our beloved Belteshazzar  (a.k.a. Daniel).  Doesn't that alliteration just fairly drip off your tongue?  Even as a nonbeliever, I had heard something of this story.  It was nice to really read thru it and look at the nuances (thanks to Amber's guidance).  Our focus was "exploring prayer" and "conquering planning".  Additionally, one of the things we were encouraged to ask God about was whether our first instinct was to pray or to panic/plan in a stressful situation.  I could really do w/o some of these squirm in my seat/too close to home questions.  Nevertheless, I will continue to trudge on.

I'll discuss the following:  Tell of a time when you were tempted to make plans, and instead chose to pray and wait on God, instead.

I wish I could tell you that I have this one, crisply defined moment when this shift occurred for me.  Alas, I am much messier than that.  My name is Gretchen, and I'm a planner, a recovering control freak, and a recovering perfectionist.  I think a lot of that baggage came with my upbringing (not dissing--just keepin' it real), but I'm also a firm believer that, after 21, you need to choose to either find the tools to deal with your s**t, or succumb to it.  However, the dealing...takes a lot of prayer, submission, and total dependence on God.  Not something an independent perfectionist was accustomed to doing. 

And the fact that I didn't do this nearly cost me my marriage.    

Because I was so needy that I tried to fill a God-sized hole w/my wonderful, but human husband. 

See, he's a travelin' man.  Made a lot of stops.  All over the world.  (Hello, Ricky Nelson).  Indeed, he started our marriage with 100% travel, and is now down to about 30% . 

Well, this travel didn't fit with my perception of what a husband should do, nor did the tons of overtime he worked.  On the outside, I was calm, and cute :), and on the inside, I was boiling.  Eventually,about every couple of weeks or so the vitriol would spew forth from me in an argument because Big had "chosen his work over me".  Not only that, but "if he really loved me, he'd find a decent job close to home,etc.".  After all, don't husbands greet their wives with a kiss at 5:01 p.m., Monday-Friday?  Okay...so add naive to the list of my attributes. When we were first married, Big's flight would arrive at 10 on Friday night, and then have to be back at the airport on Sunday at 2 p.m.  Granted, this was not ideal, but he was doing his time in the corporate world of consulting.  One would think that I would be excited to see him.  And I was...but not really.  You see, I didn't have the knowledge of God that I have now, so I wasn't praying for our marriage, his safety, or anything, really.  But boy, I was a planner.  I planned each Friday all day long about how I could harp at him, withhold bedroom fun, or berate him so that he would finally see the light and come home to his needy wife.  And when I was done blaming him coming home so late on Fridays, I started in on how big a bummer it was to have to take him to the airport so early on a Sunday.  I was sure a prize, no?  Not to take 100% of our early marital woes upon myself, but really...who could blame him for wanting to be away from me.  Our weekends were spent fighting rather than growing closer as a couple to shore each other up before another hard week. 

Truly, it's only the hand of God that saved us.

Fast forward to now.  He.still.travels.  I.still.hate.it.  And I have to do a lot of talking with God to make sure my heart is in the nonresentful right place when I anticipate his trips. Is it perfect now?  Nope.  But I'll tell you this:  since God is now in the God-sized hole, and since I choose to pray to Him to help my messed up self, I find that my marriage is better.  I focus on the "now".  On what I have.  On how blessed I am to be nearly 20 years married to a man who loves me, provides exceedingly well for our family, and who has actually relaxed a bit and put his marriage first more often when there seems to be a reason to do so. 

Now, when he readies himself to go to Asia, we cuddle.  We chat.  I do his laundry and help him pack.  I tell him that I would really rather he not go, but that I'm thankful for his job and his excitement--especially at 42 years old--in doing what he does.  I tell him again that I'd rather he not go (wait, I said that :) ), and then I pray over him.  I release him to God's care.  And I walk to my Jesus' lap and let Him care for me.  In prayer.  Sometimes being lonely and having abandonment crap can really feel like a lion's den.  But thanks to prayer--sometimes in a designated quiet time, sometimes in breath prayers as I drive/do laundry/wash dishes, sometimes as i tuck in my children--we know we're going to be okay.

"For he is the living God and he endures forever;

his kingdom will not be destroyed,

his dominion will never end."

Daniel 6:26