Float Like a Butterfly,

Sting Like a Bee

9.  Float Like a Butterfly,

Sting Like a Bee

 

“What would men be without women?  Scarce, sir, mighty scarce.”[61] 

 

Foul: An infringement of boxing rules, including: hitting below the belt; hitting with any part of the body other than the knuckles; head-butting; hitting the back of the opponent’s neck, head, or torso; hitting an opponent who is down; tripping; kicking.[62]

 

 

Vicki stopped writing in her journal for about two years, with no explanation.  Then she started writing again, a little here and a little there.  For example,

August 2, 1989

It’s been almost two years since my last entry.  In our Women’s Bible Study I encouraged the ladies to be more open.

 

August 6, 1989

Lowell referred [a lady] for psychiatric treatment.  She’s manic depressive/bipolar.  Lord, help us to do Your will.  It hurts deeply to see one of our “flock” so out of touch with reality.  Protect her and [her husband].

Left after church for “General Council” in Indianapolis.  [It’s our denomination’s] 75th Anniversary and kickoff for the “Decade of Harvest.”  We’re driving.

 

And on August 14, 1989

General Council is over and it was wonderful.  Charles Crabtree was so inspiring on opening night as the national Decade of Harvest leader.  I really believe God has placed [the goals of the program] in the hearts of our leaders and is going to do glorious things in His Church in the coming years.  

On Friday night God spoke very directly to Lowell’s heart about using him in a healing ministry.  What will this mean for our church?  I’m excited and scared.  Give us wisdom.

 

Sadly, this day’s entry didn’t end on a positive.

Lowell said I was critical and negative to a fault at General Council … it hurt deeply.  I felt like I had tried so hard over the years to overcome that tendency toward criticism that seems to be burned into my character … I thought I was doing better … and then his words …

 

In 2000 the movie Billy Elliot came out to rave reviews.  It’s one of my favorite films.  In the movie you learn that boxing and ballet dancing don’t mix well, especially in a coal-mining town in northern England. 

So why do we think we can mix it up in a marriage, seeing that marriage is to be more like ballet than boxing?  Why do we injure that person we love the most?

Sometimes the Marriage Dance looks like a boxing match, doesn’t it, with lots of head butting fouls.

Vicki and I had a long talk about what we would disclose in our book.  We agreed that nothing I shared would violate past agreements of confidentiality, nor would I write in a way that would purposefully embarrass the living (or the dead).  She asked me to carefully consider everything that went into this book – to ask myself and God if the telling was germane to the overall story, and if it was, to carefully conceal the identities of anyone who might possibly be seen in a less-than-flattering light.

I promised.

What spurred that conversation was this journal entry.  In August of 2003 I was reading over all of her journals.  For weeks I had been asking her questions, getting some clarification, pressing her for more details, and trying to pull additional insights from her heart.  That’s when I came upon:  I thought I was doing better … and then his words …

I told Vicki, “After I read this journal entry I remembered the occasion.  Reading your pain-filled words is so embarrassing.  I don’t think I can write about my cruelty.  I took some really cheap shots at your heart, and they hit their mark.  I meant to hurt you.”

All over again I asked Vicki to forgive me.  And all over again she did.

And then she said, “Lowell, if you can …”

I was all ears.  “If I can what, Vic?” I asked.

“Honey, if you can, share my pain … and yours.  Let’s try not share anyone’s story but ours.  Let’s be transparent without wallowing in our own shame.  Don’t slap yourself around again, but if you can, don’t shy away from anything – no matter how painful it was.  Sharing it might help someone.”

I just thought you should know that I’m not sharing my stupidity because I’m noble.  I’m keeping my word to Vicki.  And I’m doing it with some difficulty.  If it were completely up to me, I’d tell our story in a way that would make Vicki and me appear much better.  But … you’d know.  Way down, deep inside, you’d know that it wasn’t the way things really were.

On our trip home from General Council in August of 1989 I wanted to hurt her, so I called Vicki by the name of a person we both knew to be very critical.  It was a low blow.  It wasn’t a “Holy Spirit moment.”

My initial punch had a chilling effect.  For the remainder of our trip, from Indianapolis home, it snowballed into a chill that would last for some months as both Vicki and I “stuffed” our feelings.  From time to time she would jab.  I would counter-punch and then go sulk.  I would throw a hook, and she would spit back.  I was angry because she kept reminding me of my imperfections.  I would retaliate with venomous words. 

Vicki and I became super selfish.   We weren’t forgiving.  We weren’t loving.  And in the meantime I preached and I counseled while Vicki sang on the worship team and led the Women’s Ministry.

We were behaving like most American “Christians,” I’m sad to say.  We gave each other the silent treatment Monday through Friday, and called a truce on Saturday and Sunday.  That was so the neighbors at T-Ball and soccer games, and our friends at church, would never suspect that we were so dysfunctional.

From late August of 1989 until the early Summer of 1991, almost two years, Vicki and I managed to live out our marriage without giving away our dark secret – that we didn’t like each other very much. 

We had been married for 18 years, and we had reached a place where we both didn’t know what to do to fix our steadily cooling relationship.  When we went to the bedroom it was all about sleeping.  Over time we decided to punish each other by withholding ourselves physically.  Sometimes we wouldn’t even bother brushing our teeth.  We were sending each other signals:  “Don’t bother me!  I’m not interested.”  Lovemaking was a rare thing.  For me, it was a contest of wills.  For Vicki, it was all about principles.  Intimacy was not happening.

Then, in quick succession, a series of very important things happened that helped us survive as a couple.  The change happened in me first.  I was sick and tired of being so self-centered.  The had lived on the loneliest planet in the universe.  It’s named Self_Love – a place where everything and everyone must revolve around me, me, me. 

We were created for better – for more.  We humans were created to give. 

Giving is a significant part of the Divine Image implanted by the Creator into the core of Eden’s only citizens.  We’re at our best when we’re giving.  Being generous is a tremendous turn on!  In fact, the Bible says as much – “It is more blessed to give than to receive.”[63]

Call it a revelation.  Maybe you’ll think that all the moons suddenly lined up – whatever.  I decided to swallow my pride, put aside my “will to win,” and stop punishing Vicki by withholding my affection.

Of course, I couldn’t start in the bedroom.  That would have been too suspect, and viewed as typical male manipulation.  So, I began in the kitchen.  One day I told her I would clean up the kitchen.  That meant loading the dishwasher, hand washing the stuff that wouldn’t fit in it, putting away the leftovers, and taking out the trash.

It wasn’t unusual that I did those things.  We had divvied up the chores years before because we both worked.  What was unusual was that I did it without being asked.  Asking can be an uncomfortable proposition when you’re not talking much.

I began to use my will, not to win, but to give.  I did make it a game of sorts, but without keeping score.  I tried to out-give Vicki at every turn.  I was learning humility.  In the process giving became a daily marital and spiritual practice.

Months later physical intimacy began to return, passionately.  By that time Vicki had seen such a change in my demeanor and attitude that her receptors were tuned in.  Instinctively she entered the giving game.  She didn’t keep score either.

Humility is a lost art.  The humiliation of giving up, giving in, or just plain giving can lead to a rediscovery of lost marital love.  We learned that insisting on your own way is a sure way of sabotaging any relationship – especially a marriage.  I’m suggesting that humility (learning to eat the proverbial “humble pie” when it hasn’t been a regular entrée on your relational menu) is the character quality that many times provides the only means of building trust, security, and generous reciprocity in a marriage.

Wouldn’t it be great if we could learn humility, get a diploma, and never have to take a refresher course?  But because it’s an art and not a skill per se, humility must be renewed every so often.  Vicki and I did learn a lot about humility that year, and we would learn still more about it in the years to come.  We would occasionally falter but never regress to a worse condition.

There’s a great little book that speaks of giving in relationships, but with a twist.  I recommend, for your reading enjoyment, You Don’t Have to Be Wrong to Repent.[64]  Written by Craig Hill, in it he suggests that every person longs to be seen as valuable, but that our identities are either “cursed” (by making someone feel worthless) or “blessed” (the ability to bestow or communicate “honor”).

I wish I had had that book way back in 1989.

When I began to “bless” Vicki by giving to her, I was demonstrating to her in tangible, visible and measurable ways that she was valuable to me.  As a result, our wounded marriage began to heal.  That she responded to my giving by giving back communicated to me that I was valuable, and that my efforts at blessing her were not wasted on a hard heart.

When we talked in the summer of 2003, we affectionately referred to that time as our “Summer of Reconciliation.”  Great memories.  A better marriage.  A much closer friendship.

Muhammad Ali once said, “The fight is won or lost far away from the witnesses, behind the lines, in the gym, and out there on the road; long before I dance under those lights.”  I’d like to tweak it to read:  A friendship/marriage/relationship is won far away from the crowds.  It is won long before we dance under the lights.  It’s won when we humble ourselves … and give.

Following on the heels of our Summer of Reconciliation was a fall women’s retreat that Vicki looked back on as another defining moment in her life.  The main conference presenter was Marigold Cheshier,[65] a motivational speaker and evangelist. 

Marigold spoke over that weekend about the ordeals that her family had faced, and overcome.  In 1982, her son was severely burned over the upper 30% of his body.  He also inhaled the flames, burning his throat and lungs.  She shared how God brought him from near death to life, and how he became a preacher and power-lifter (bench pressing 450lbs).  Next she shared about her daughter; how she, just two years after her brother was burned, was beaten and left for dead in a roadside park.  The family was told she would never be able to bear children because of the physical trauma.  Today, she is a children’s evangelist and a mother of twin boys.

In that same year Marigold was diagnosed with cancer, and told she wouldn’t live very long.  Twenty-three years later she was still preaching the Gospel and singing all over the world. 

Here’s what Vicki wrote about, and highlighted, in her journal.

October 14, 1991

Potomac Women’s Retreat – Marigold Cheshier:  Another heart-changing experience.  We felt God’s power in such a real sense – healings, both inner and physical.

[Marigold] dealt with fear and circumstances.  Four things she said stand out in my mind.  “Your circumstances don’t determine your victory; your response to them does.”  “Don’t doubt in the dark what the Lord has given you in the light.”  “God has not given us a spirit of fear, but He has given unto us a spirit of power, love, and a sound mind.”  “Faith is daring confidence in the mercy/grace of God.”

God does not always remove the negative circumstances.  He takes those circumstances ([such as the] Red Sea, lions, giants, the enemy) and makes them powerless!

Gideon’s men [see Judges 7, especially verse 3] – no fear allowed on the battlefield.  The joy of the Lord is supernatural.  God is able to deliver you from whatever your circumstances are.

The desperate need in my life for more intense times of prayer is what I came away [from this retreat] with.  God can only speak to me if I go to Him.  He will not come any closer to me than He is right now.  He has already left the splendor and glory of heaven, come down to my world, and laid down His life.  He is already standing right in front of me and behind me.  He’s to my left and my right … but He will not invade my private, personal will.  He stands, waiting[66] … but I have to step towards Him now.  I have to press in towards Him.  It’s my decision.  My choice.  My move.

I’m tired of being ordinary.  I don’t serve an ordinary God.  My God is extraordinary – supernatural!  And I can be extraordinary, too.  I repent of my laziness, my complacency, and my lukewarmness[67].  I commit to the Lord that I will actually seek to keep this fire burning brilliantly that He has rekindled in me this past weekend.

I’m tired of being ordinary, boring, and powerless.  I long for God’s power to work in me and through me to touch others.  I’m ready to begin the work that He prepared in advance for me to do, and I’m anxious to move into those things.  I can do nothing in my own strength but “… I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”[68]

This is very strange and very frightening, but I feel that God is preparing me to be able to handle a personal tragedy.  I have a sense that it might be cancer … but it’s very vague.  I’m not afraid at this time, and I have a very strong sense that whatever might happen will result in victory, and it will glorify God in a great way.  I have an assurance that God will enable me to handle anything that I might face.

I only write this now to encourage me later, if it does come to be.  In the meantime I’m flying high!!  Praise God for His power and His grace!