Choosing Mercy

In the past, when my husband disappointed me, or hurt me or appeared to not have my best interest in mind. I naturally put up walls. I ceased to be vulnerable. I protected my heart by shutting him out; I turned cold towards him. I could almost pretend that he wasn't there. It was easier to fill the yearnings for his affection with other things - the kids, the house, sleep.
I couldn't understand how he didn't get that his actions and his words, (or lack of), could shatter me. How could he be so selfish? How could he hurt me this deeply? Didn't he care?

My questions were usually the only words I would speak to him when I was in shut-down mode.
I'm not so sure that he even heard the words I spoke. He knew my mouth was moving, but all he heard was, "You have failed." How critical I could be. How harsh were my accusations. I didn't want to take the time to consider his perspective. I could chose not to even care. It didn't matter to me the areas where I had failed him. I only knew I was hurt and I could not see beyond my own unmet needs.

It wasn't until I better understood God's mercy that I began to see just how difficult I had made it for my husband all those years. During the years that my husband struggled greatly with addictions I experienced vile and cruel shredding of one person to another. It was as if someone took a sledge hammer and attempted to shatter our hearts and lives into a million pieces. I felt I experienced such unjustness. I hoped that my husband would get what he deserved after all the pain he had caused me and our children. I scolded him and I wanted God to scold, punish, humiliate and even ground him like a child who needed discipline.

I certainly wasn't practicing mercy as I was shutting out my husband. And for a long time, I didn't care if I showed him mercy. Yet, while I was still a sinner, while I was ignorant of God's love for me, his mercy was running rampant in my life. I had not even been aware of God's mercy permeating through my days. Christ became what I am; a vile sinner, so that I could be free from sin - a sin that was no lighter than my husband's. Mercy began to stare me right in the face at the foot of the cross.

The foot of the cross is exactly where God reconciled our marriage. I had been given the most wondrous gift that I don't deserve. I had been given mercy by God - I do not get what I deserve. I deserve death, I deserve to perish as I cannot stand before a Holy God. Therefore, since I had been given mercy, shouldn't I show mercy. When I am willing to remain vulnerable - I am showing my husband mercy. When I am willing to forgive my husband, I am showing him mercy. When I am loving towards him, I show mercy.

Even now, in a marriage that has been laced with mercy and forgiveness there are times when I feel my husband has been unfair, said a harsh word, or isn't engaged the way I want him to be. I still have a choice to make - I can withdraw, put up walls and give him what he "deserves," or, I can chose to show mercy and give him what neither he or I deserve - beautiful, extended, grace.