I spent about two days feeling that way. Feeling justified in my wants, justified in my pride, and contentedly sure of the "right" position I held in my self-centeredness.
Then, I read a book. A 1950's whodunit with a little romantic background arc. And in that book, an exchange happened: a married woman complained about her husband to the divorced antagonist.
"Why should Hart be allowed to get away with that sort of thing? I've a damned good mind to—"
I said abruptly: "Do you want to keep your husband or don't you?"
"I—of course I want to keep him! What a silly question!"
"Then leave him alone," I said. "Don't you know yet that there's no room for pride in marriage? You have to choose between the two. If you can't keep quiet, then you must make up your mind to lose him. If you want him, then swallow your pride and shut up. It'll heal over; everything does, given time enough and a bit of peace.”
And, mulling over that exchange later that evening, clarity came as I stood at the counter by the fridge. The Holy Spirit came back, and I felt like I had been crazy. The memory of how I felt over this little thing was like a milder version of the way you feel when waking up with night terrors, where you know you're awakened from a nightmare, but it's SO real to you still. Your reason tells you it was just a dream, that world you know is really still there, but that feeling of your mind gripped in the terror of the dream doesn't go away until you go back to sleep. Like my perspective had been so skewed by wanting this thing that I couldn't see my marriage, my friendship with this good, good man, in the light of truth.
I've gone through these kinds of shifts in attitude before… but I have never felt the difference so clearly. Before, I thought the shift came because I chose to ignore what I wanted, consciously choosing to give it up for the sake of closeness in my marriage. This time I recognized it: Jesus bringing me back to solid ground. Back to reality as He sees it.
This time I saw my selfishness, and what effect it had: allowing the enemy to cloak my mind with my own wants so completely that that was all I saw--all I could see.
At that moment my prayer became: "Lord, keep me sane. I want to see things as they are, and love as I am. Please, never let me be deceived like that again!"
It has been interesting since then; my new understanding has been put to the test, and I'm learning what it really means (a tiny bit at a time) to see as Jesus sees. There is no deception in Him.
And that, my friends, is vital to remember.
