Baggage to Bridges

Fear wrapped its bony fingers around my heart with supernatural strength and squeezed until my racing heartbeat nearly stopped. Panic kidnapped my mind into a time warp taking it back eight years earlier to an abusive relationship. Emotionally, mentally, and physically traumatized in the moment as I relived a flashback, I instinctively backed away without taking my eyes off the annoyed man screwing a lightbulb into a seventy-year-old socket in a 100 plus year-old home.

He didn't cuss. He didn't make obscene threats or gestures as he failed to line up threading of a new light bulb to an archaic socket. He didn't kick the stool as he dismounted in frustration. He didn't even raise his voice. However, he couldn't help but grumble about the absurdity of having ancient sockets that could nearly give you a battle scar just for attempting to swap a light bulb.

That was it.

But in my mind's eye, I saw his body tense, his jaw tighten, and heard his voice change from soft and soothing to edgy and agitated. My instincts kicked in as I almost imperceptibly backed away with an unwavering gaze —ready for the unexpected.

Reality check: there was no danger. Yes, Neil was frustrated at having to change the light bulb in a very old socket. But that's it. That's where it ended. The danger was an old memory from my past, yet there I was reliving a flashback in the first year of our marriage.

My baggage.

*****

Job loss. Not a big deal if you're in your 20s or 30s. Not fun, but finding another position typically isn't too difficult. Add twenty-five years, however, and the narrative changes. In July of 2022, we arrived home from vacation only for Neil to find an email in his inbox informing him of his layoff. At first, we didn't worry about it; he's always been able to find new employment in under a week. Then again, that was over ten years ago. Now, he's fifty. One month goes by... We're still okay. Two months, three months... By the time the fourth month arrived, Neil began to feel the pressure. The weight of providing for our family bared down on Neil like a lead-laden load. Feelings of inferiority and inadequacy overwhelmed Neil, causing him to question his worth. Childhood memories of being teased and bullied flooded his thoughts reminding him over and over that he would never be enough. The fear of failing his family began to set in like hardening concrete.

Reality Check: God provided for us the entire six months he was unemployed. Did we get behind of some of our bills? Yes, but when we really needed to make a payment, the money was there. We always had a roof over our heads, food on the table, and gas in our vehicles. And Neil remained the man in my dreams and my warrior prince the whole time. His insecurities and self-doubt stemmed from early childhood experiences that left soul-deep scarring.

His baggage.

*****

As our friendship grew into a relationship that brought us to marriage, we talked about our past experiences, but couldn't identify the baggage we each carried until we faced situations that left us raw and vulnerable with each other. Sometimes it was in the form of a disagreement, a point of view, or opinion. Other times it was circumstances or a situation beyond our control that brought out our inner fears and uncertainties.

Our baggage.

*****

Every relationship goes through this, whether a friendship, courtship, or marriage. And every time we come to a place that brings out emotions, memories, and reactions previously stuffed into our life carry-alongs, we have a choice. Do we unpack our stuff? Or do we quickly shove it all back down into already over-full emotional bags, refusing to deal with our pain and the lies we believe?

Learning to be transparent and trust each other in and with our brokenness brought Neil and me to a place of humility and acceptance with each other. First, we had to acknowledge we had baggage. Then we each had to decide whether or not we were going to unpack it or gloss over, stuff, and ignore it.

Here's where I picture a bridge. The bridge is a throughway of truth grounded in God's Word; a road that cuts through the lies and leads to freedom from the deceptions that hold us hostage. There are three options when arriving at a Truth bridge, and we each have to decide which to choose:

We both stay in the comfort of what is familiar

1. 

   Just one of us crosses that bridge towards healing while the other remains in the comfort and familiarity of his/her pain

   OR

   

   We work through this and walk across this bridge together towards healing, joy, and a stronger relationship on the other side

In the last twenty-three years of marriage (twenty-seven years of knowing each other), we've crossed many bridges. I've mentioned secrets in past posts. We often "protected" each other from what we perceived as trivial discomforts or seemingly inconsequential turns of events, such as pain or up-ended routines. Everyone arrives at the threshhold of bridges throughout life. When in a relationship, we either cross together, alone, or not at all. Bridges are meant to lead us to the other side, which often brings healing. It may hurt as the realization of an offense is uncovered. It may sting as pride is swallowed as an apology is required. Humility is often found in failure, but that is also where it succeeds as healing begins. I'm responsible for my choice to cross. You are responsible for yours. Will you cross?

Mine. Ours.

Yours.