Wednesday, December 11, 2013

You Have to Move Toward Him, Even When it Hurts

In life, there are good days and bad days.
I've written about how we've been dealing with this pressure sore on M's bottom for the last couple of months. Some days, it's better and he's up and everything feels normal.

I like those days.

Then, other days, it flares back up, and he's stuck in bed on his side and that's no fun for anyone. There is a lot of sweating and discomfort, and flipping from side to back to side, and there are lots of pillows and teeth brushings in bed.

It sucks, actually.

We had a good day, despite all of this, the other day. Followed by a really bad couple of days.

Thank God for grace. If we didn't have grace with each other, I'm sure we wouldn't be able to keep going, because this is really hard, and it won't leave us alone and we're so tired.

The other night, I slept in the guest room. It was sad. I didn't want to be alone. But the muscle spasms wouldn't stop and I couldn't sleep, so Michael insisted I go.

I begged for mercy as I finally fell asleep on my tear-drenched pillow. I was pretty much out of hope. But, I eventually did fall asleep.

In my dream, Michael was standing in the doorway of the guest bedroom (which is upstairs), telling me it would be okay. I felt comforted in my dream, but then when I woke up, it actually made me feel worse, because I know that's never going to happen.

He'll never stand in a doorway. He'll probably never even see the upstairs of our house. He'll never be able to scoop me up, and carry me and hold me. He can tell me it's going to be okay. He can give me a pep talk, and pray for me, and be strong for me emotionally and spiritually, when I'm spent.

But not if it's not for grace.
Because, he's not perfect, he's human. And I'm not perfect, I'm human.
And this big, huge thing in our marriage also isn't perfect, but it's not human, so we can't even reason with it, or bargain with it.

It's concrete. It doesn't budge.
So, we must.

I cried so many tears over the last few days because I just wanted so badly to be rescued. I want that man standing in the doorway, surprising me with his strength, to scoop me up and save me.

I get so tired of saving myself.

The thing about being married to someone who sometimes literally can't move toward me, is that even when I don't want to/don't think I can/I'm sick of doing it myself, I have to be the one to move.

I have a choice. I can move away from him, or I can move toward him.

Often times, I don't get this right on the first try. And all I do is make things worse. I hate it when I do that.

To the other wives in this situation, make the right choice. Move toward him.
Husbands, remember that your wife wants to be rescued. She understands what you can and what you can't do. Rescue her in the way that you can. It means so much.

John Eldredge describes this need that we as women have, so well:

“I wasn't mean; I wasn't evil. I was nice. And let me tell you, a hesitant man is the last thing in the world a woman needs. She needs a lover and a warrior, not a Really Nice Guy.” 
― John EldredgeWild at Heart: Discovering the Secret of a Man's Soul

This morning, I told Michael about my dream. I don't usually tell him about those dreams, because I can't say the words without tears and I can't stand to see tears well up in his eyes. But, I told him, then I laid down next to him and we held on.

Now, as I write, and process, I'm reminded of a Susan Ashton song from the 1990s. This song was on one of the first "Christian" CDs I owned as a new Christian teenager. I've always loved it.

So, you'll pardon the cheesiness of the 90s with me, right? Because here it is, in all its YouTube glory:


You Move Me
by Susan Ashton

This is how it seems to me
Life is only therapy
Real expensive
And no guarantee
So I lie here on the couch
With my heart hanging out
Frozen solid with fear
Like a rock in the ground
Oh but you move me
You give me courage I didn't
Know I had
You move me on
I can't go with you
And stay where I am
So you move me on
Here is how love was to me
I could look and not see
Going through the emotions
Not knowin' what they mean
And it scared me so much
That I just wouldn't budge
I might have stayed there forever
If not for your touch
Oh but you move me
Out of myself and into the fire
You move me
Now I'm burning with love
And with hope and desire
How you move me
You go whistling in the dark
Making light of it
Making light of it
And I follow with my heart
Laughing all the way
Oh 'cause you move me
You get me dancing and you
Make me sing
You move me
Now I'm taking delight
In every little thing
How you move me

So, let's be brave. Let's move toward each other. Let's give and receive grace. Let's rescue and be rescued. And hold on tight. Because the bad day won't last forever. And when it is over, we want to be closer to each other, not further apart.

11 comments:

Cheri said...

I loved the comment "I'm so tired of trying to save myself". I feel like that a lot. Great post Dana.

mella's messages said...

Oh Dana, I love your heart. Thanks again for sharing. I am feeling God's grace in great ways lately, mixing pregnancy with my husband's quadriplegia, and now soreness in old bedsore scars that's keeping him in bed more often during the day. I am grateful for every day that I can still have enough strength to help him in and out of bed. It's definitely hard at times to "move towards him" especially with a big tummy, and achy sciatic that keeps me tossing at night, add to that my hubby wants to turn on the other side when I wake up in the early hours to use the bathroom - he purposely laid on his more uncomfortable side through the night so that he could give me a back rub...Sometimes, I just can't complain, cause God has blessed me so much.

Belinda Wilkinson said...

I am really having to do this right now - thanks for sharing.

Jaimie L. Moore said...

I was nodding my head in agreement the whole time reading this. Hearts.

Karen Kleyle said...

I'm with you. We are going through the SAME thing. Hugs to you for always putting into words how I'm/we're feeling and going through.

Sarah Pruett said...

Been thinking about you guys and praying for healing. Thanks for always being so real and honest!

linda matta said...

have you ever thought of getting a sleep number bed,my husband is a c6-7 quad,we have had ours for years,he can put it at 100 to transfer and to sleep it puts it on 35-40,no pressure on his butt.we have been so lucky in the 19 years since he was hurt,no sores-knock on wood-this bed has been a life saver for us


Pete Hallin said...

Thank you for your stories in life from your (the other side) point of view. I hear so much of your situations relating to my wife.

I am a quad. My accident happened six years ago and I've been married to my wife for 17. It's getting harder on my wife. Is there anyway you can contact me privately, I have a few questions. You can look me up on Facebook if you would like.

Joyce Smith said...

I am crying for you both. You have amazing strength. God bless.

Reenie said...

This is beautiful Dana and so insightful. Living life with someone with this type of disability is so very difficult for you both. I am a Mother of a disabled person and know the exhaustion which you must feel. Thank you for your posts and helping others to realize that we all have these feelings from time to time.

Reenie said...

This is beautiful Dana and so insightful. Living life with someone with this type of disability is so very difficult for you both. I am a Mother of a disabled person and know the exhaustion which you must feel. Thank you for your posts and helping others to realize that we all have these feelings from time to time.