All last week I struggled with attitudes and sins that the Spirit gently unearthed or uncovered in me. Attitudes fed by jealousy and resentment and insecurities.
And all week long I have attempted to swallow them down, but they push up against the back of my throat and choke me.
I needed to speak them out loud.
Sometimes transparency annoys me. There are times when I simply want to wear an opaque mask, but I cannot. And there are three people who hear my confessions. Three people I allow to see the sordid ugliness of my heart. Three people who have proven that they love me even when they are exposed to the toxic sludge in my heart.
Two women. One I have known and loved for twenty-four years. One I have known and loved for nine.
The other is my husband.
My beautiful husband-man.
He received the fall-out and the spill-over of the sludge in my heart this week. The Spirit was dealing with me.
And so I reluctantly, but openly shared the ugliness in my heart with him. And that is just what it is. You can’t call it anything else.
I am not sure what I expected. I didn’t know what he would say when I exposed the nastiness that had been hiding. I told this dear man that I felt like the basement of our house—full of things that needed to be thrown away or put on the curb. I explained that I felt like my whole house was just filthy.
When I finished my rant he sat and looked at me for a long time. Just looked. His silence was awkward for me and I wanted to fill it, but refrained.
I will never forget—ever—what he spoke to me.
Tamera, your house is fine. Quit being so hard on yourself. Your rooms are clean. You are just dealing with a drawer. That’s it. This is just a drawer. A drawer with some stuff in it. You have opened the drawer and you have seen some things you don’t like. Clean out the drawer, but remember it is only a drawer. You may find a closet later that needs some attention, but it will only be a closet. And this is only a drawer.
I just looked at him. At that moment something in my spirit broke free. A restrictive band snapped.
Only a drawer.
There was no judgment in his voice. He didn’t dismiss what I was saying. He didn’t exaggerate it. He called it what it was.
Then he wrapped his arms around me.
He knows me. Understands me. Loves me. Anyway.
I look at my husband and one way he turns I see him; he turns a different way and I get a glimpse of Jesus. For a fleeting moment their faces merge.
It’s not that my husband is Jesus, he just resembles him.
And this is the quality I appreciate most about my husband.
It’s only a drawer, Tamera.
John 13:5-10; James 5:16