Foundations

June 14, 2010
The cold metal barrel of my 380 Keltec felt odd as it pressed into my temple. Especially since I was the one holding it in place. “I HATE YOU!” My throat immediately felt raw from the force of my words. “YOU’RE TOXIC!” My eyes bulged and nostrils flared.

I’m not sure why I’d put the gun to my head when I’d felt so much rage toward Max. In retrospect, the only thing I can come up with is that I’d wanted to demonstrate the severity of my feelings. We’d had a repeat argument. The kind where the roots were so intertwined and widespread, neither one of us had the strength or wherewithal to completely unearth the growth. And so, our repeat argument became more firmly entrenched.

February 13, 2011
I am, unfortunately, worth more to my husband dead than alive. Tried to look up my insurance policy to check on suicide coverage, but my policy wouldn’t show up online. Everything else was there but mine. Thinking they would be the same, I tried to look under Max’s, but it timed out. Then I just got pissed. Why do I need to be alive anyway? I’m done being a bother. I feel like a dog tonight. A flea-infested, mangy mutt that isn’t even worth the vet’s bill. I just want to go home. Someplace safe. Where someone loves me.

April 1, 2011
Today was pretty much horrible. I left the house last night because Max and I fought and I did not have the desire to come back home. I actually attempted to sleep in my car in the parking lot at a restaurant. Too many sirens though. I kept thinking a litany of cuss words and then tried to apologize to God for thinking them. At some point, I realized the ridiculousness of it all, considering I was contemplating ending my life. But since I’m writing this, I obviously did come home.

May 31, 2011
All that’s fueling me right now is Diet Dew and rage. Composed my own suicide note this morning:
Dear Max,
F*#@ you. If I were your boss, I’d fire you for being an impostor. How’s this for doing what I say I’ll do?
Mae

June 5, 2011
I could barely get out of bed this morning. Max came home from work yesterday, hopeless and yearning for something better. I felt very alone and unsafe. All I could think was, I want to go home. To that elusive place where I feel secure.

Though I didn’t know it at the time, I penned these journal entries during Max’s transition to atheism. He was still working for a church and growing increasingly unsettled. I, on the other hand, was experiencing God in new, profound ways. It would have been a time of pure joy for me. But our repeat argument continued to gain traction. And so, I often asked God to just take me out of this world so I wouldn’t have to do it myself.

The entire time, I’d thought our repeat argument was the problem and if we could just unearth the roots of it, we would be fine. But my suicidal thoughts, rage, and hopelessness were only side-effects of the real problem. With mud and dried sweat caked on his brow, God painstakingly unearthed every offshoot until he brought the end of the poisoned root into the light of his glory.

My insecurity.

You see, I’d been placing my security in Max ever since we starting dating in high school. He was a man of God before it was cool to be a man of God. Instead of learning to go to God with my needs, I relied solely on Max. I thought I was being submissive to Max as leader of our household—he should hear from God and disseminate the information to me. Please don’t misunderstand me. I sometimes tried on my own. And I believe being a submissive wife is God-honoring. But I allowed Max to become my God-between. I would take my problems to Max first. I would take my hurts to Max first. I would take my joy to Max first.

Max had become God to me instead of God.

I no longer wonder why I was suicidal, angry, and hopeless. My foundation was built upon sand that sucks your feet down as the water rises. Nothing against Max—some of the very things I blamed him for were actually the result of my own problem. My downward spiral was destined to happen no matter where I laid my foundation, had it been laid anywhere other than on the Rock.

I can’t tell you the exact moment God opened my eyes to the truth of my situation because it was more of a gradual awakening. How sweet it was though, to finally blink awake and find our Savior at the edge of my bed holding the gnarled roots of my insecurity.

Life is different now. I won’t tell you that insecurity never threatens me anymore or that mine and Max’s repeat argument is gone. However, that’s the point of building my foundation on the Rock. Storms are inevitable.

But I am no longer moved.

You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you. Trust in the LORD forever, for the LORD GOD is an everlasting rock. Isaiah 26:3-4

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