People are prone to memory lapse, some more so than others (hint, hint honey). We lose the car keys, the iPhone” (ok maybe I hid it), and leave our sunglasses everywhere but on our face.
But often in the marriage realm, we forget something even more important…the person we are, or better yet, who we were before life moved into fourth gear.
Long ago, in a seminary class filled with very spiritual people (ok…not so much), I learned how personalities operate differently under stress. There is our natural personality, the person we are when life is good, and then the shadow personality, the person we are when life gets overwhelming. Looking back, I guess it was one of those red-light warnings suggesting the life of a minister might not be all sunshine and roses.
It seemed like once my husband and I were outnumbered by kids, then deluged by work stress and ministry, this shadow personality started to emerge in full force. It wasn’t an obvious body snatching, but a more subtle transformation amidst a whirlpool of snotty noses, interrupted sleep and a leaky church roof.
Slowly, we lost the best parts of our personality in survival mode. It wasn’t intentional, but it was there, in the unspoken sighs and the little comments like; “Remember our Honeymoon?” (translation “Remember when you used to be fun?”)
When my husband approached me and said we needed a mini-retreat desperately, it was as if God’s voice broke through the busyness cloud and shouted, “Go for it! You are not the job, a mommy martyr, or the pastors wife…you, my darling girl are Mine.”
Deep down, buried under layers and layers of stress, I vaguely remembered underneath all the burdens I carry, there is a whimsical and frisky girl who loves romance, goofy humor, and spontaneity with her man.
“Ok,” I said, faking nonchalance, “When do we leave?”
After two days and two nights with the in-laws, which included one of the best gifts of all…sleep, we were ready and rejuvenated enough to venture out on our own for a whole twenty-two hours of freedom. We got lucky on Priceline and scored a beautiful resort room for a fraction of the cost.
I was shaking in my flip-flops with excitement when we pulled up to the glamorous Hyatt Grand Champions Resort in Indian Wells.
Now I knew the expectations of this mini-retreat. My husband’s idea of vacation is unlimited sex, (sorry to shock all of you who think pastors are celibate) and my idea of vacation is unlimited rest, but I figured somewhere in between the yawns and negligees, we could find a nice compromise.
But a funny thing happens when a woman cuts the cord from her kids, even for just a short period of time. Without the backpack of motherhood weighing me down, I literally felt lighter. My spirit rejoiced in being with my husband and the walls which often separate began to crumble.
When I glanced over at him, he didn’t look like the demanding “horn-dog” I secretly make him out to be when overwhelmed. He looked handsome and content to simply be with his wife and go on an adventure. Maybe it wasn’t just physical?
And all of a sudden, a wave of appreciation rolled over my heart. I saw my husband’s love for what it is…tender and gracious. I could see adoration in his eyes. And so, my heart turned a proverbial corner and leapt with joy and longing for the man God had given me to care for.
As we headed to our room, my emotions crashed around in a crescendo of desire for my husband. Unbeknownst to him, I pilfered his “intimate” agenda. Like Marvin Gaye said best, “Let’s Get It On” played on my internal iPod as we headed to the room. He didn’t know then what my little smile insinuated.
The rest of the story is private, though I can say we both have stupid smiles plastered on our face three days later. But, more importantly, I learned a few things from our mini-retreat that I don’t want to forget.
First, my husband’s overwhelming need for intimacy is not an issue in our marriage. The issue is the busyness in life that becomes overwhelming, and makes even good things, like intimacy, a chore. (That being said, we do need to have realistic expectations dear…)
I also need to remember the man I married, and conversely the woman he proposed to still exists, even during stress and extreme exhaustion. Sometimes I just need a little coaxing, or better yet a crash course (AKA “vacation”) in remembering my identity when the darkness of life turns my light into a mere shadow.
And sadly, I had almost forgotten what it felt like to just be me; without a baby pulling on my leg, writing deadlines, or my son’s never-ending pile of athletic paraphernalia needing to laundered right “now.” I’m so glad my husband loves me enough to help me remember that the girl he married is just a vacation away.
