Medicating the Pain

Today I have been reflecting on some of the events and interactions of the last year. Not looking back as Lot's wife did, but trying to sort through some of what I was thinking and feeling. How could it possibly be that throwing everything away seemed like a rational choice to deal with my circumstances? While I can remember the thought process, none of it makes much sense to me.

Now I know that none of you reading this can relate to this analogy, but I'll throw it out there anyway. It's like being at a party on a Friday night with a lot of people you don't know. The more you drink, the friendlier things become. Until at just the right point of intoxication you become best friends for life with complete strangers. (You're the coolest guy I ever met!) In the moment no one could convince you that you are drunk or that the decisions you are making are impaired (I can drive!), but the next morning you wake up and don't remember why that trip to Krystal at 3:30 am seemed so pressing and proper. (Not that I am describing one of innumerable evenings of mine in college.) The next day you forget the names of your new best friends and even why they seemed like friends at all.

That was me in my sin. A good friend to my wife described the situation to her exactly like this and I completely agree with the analogy. "He's drunk in his sin; he's not thinking right." Yes, that was true. (Please don't take the drunkenness analogy as me trying to pass of blame. Anything but, every drunk makes a choice to drink.)

Why do people get drunk? Why is it that someone will put themselves totally in the control of something else? Whether the choice is alcohol, drugs, porn, physical brutality, gambling, making money, hoarding power, or having an affair - the bottom line is everything on that list and more have the same effect. The pain that the person is feeling gets medicated or deadened. It is a way to cope.

There really are several issues here. One is: where was God? How was it that I, a beloved pastor, turned so completely away. I've alluded to that before, but I'll return to that in another entry soon. For now, we'll turn away from my lack of trust in the God for whom I was ministering. Also for the moment, we'll overlook that everything on that list is an idol, a substitution for God, a way to be one's own god and 'solve' the problems of life's circumstances without Him.

Here I want to ask the question: what was the source of my hurt? what was it that I was trying to cover up with the substitute for God? Cheap forgiveness. In the primary relationship in my life I was being sinned against. Never did I really take the time to process my disappointment and grief. It turned to hurt that I suppressed. Keeping up appearances, remember. I wanted everyone to think things were OK. Part of me was stuck in the thought process "if I were a good Christian, I wouldn't be lonely or depressed. I shouldn't have these marriage problems. I should be able to repress my desires for physical affection and respect." So I'd just try harder and not let anyone see what was going on.

Without truly processing what was going on, the best I could say was "I forgive my wife." But I didn't mean it. How could I? I didn't even know what I was forgiving. My broken thoughts were that what I was feeling was wrong. Forgiveness makes it right. Then I could move on. Problem was, feelings don't always change as easily as you can mouth the words. My mask didn't give God the room to work the miracle of forgiveness. So the hurt just mounted.

In addition to those around me, my mask also shut out God. Remember, for me He was one to be pleased. When things didn't improve by my efforts I attributed it to his unanswered prayer or displeasure with my performance. More failure. More downward thought spiral. Throughout, I refused to let God deal with me in my grief for my marriage. That would have been revealing my weakness, being vulnerable, and facing my fears. So there was nowhere to turn with my hurt.

For her part, my wife was not interested in fixing things either - her reasons were different. That became my battle cry. This is her fault. She won't follow. She won't appreciate me. She won't...she won't...she won't...and on and on. To tell the truth, no matter what I did, godly or not, she may not have responded. But her response is not for me to control. It is also not an excuse for what I did because I could never have forseen what a godly response from me looked like. For my mask was affixed so tightly that I had shut myself out.

Notice my battle cry. She won't...she won't...she won't...all very self-centered declarations. Sure I'd help out around the house, spend time at home, and plan time together. But it was out of a selfish motive to get what I desired. It was not an authentic expression of love or forgiveness. I didn't really, authentically look at me. What kind of follower of Christ was I? What kind of husband was I? What kind of head of my family was I? In my hurt and desire to maintain appearances I had lost the ability to accurately perceive myself. Not everything was my wife's fault. Not by a long shot. I hadn't given her anything to respond to except my neediness; nor was I able to forgive her. Looking at me would not have worked until I had processed my hurt and anger.

Instead I medicated my pain. Fortunately, I follow a God who works miracles. He who can get water from a stone can also make good from our bad. I am living proof that God still works miracles and can change everything about the way you think and what or whom you put your trust in. Healing takes time, but God is faithful and patient.