Sometimes in the church, we think in order to commune with God we need to have our life put together. It seems like nobody struggles in their marriage, with depression, with pornography or rebellious kids. If they do, they sure as heck don’t talk about it. Pretty soon we begin to believe that God only wants to know the presentable parts. When we struggle, we go into hiding and say, “God, when I have this figured out, then…” As a college kid that drank too much, church was the last place I wanted to go. I did not want to see God, talk to Him or hear from Him. I thought I needed to fix myself first, and honestly that might never have happened.
There are times when I have felt the same way about sex. Times when intimacy was the last thing on my mind, because I needed to figure out life first. Times when I was stressed out or depressed or just feeling broken and I didn’t feel sexy at all. I could not imagine that my husband wanted to commune with me in the midst of that. I could not imagine that I could allow myself to go there.
The thing is, God wants all of me – the good the bad and the ugly. The other day I was so broken and weary. And instead of spending time scrambling to make things right I was crying out to him. He wants my sadness, my insecurities, and my struggles. He can handle all of my muck, whether it is depression, frustration or brokenness. Some of my most intimate times with God are when we wrestle. He bottles up my tears and he weeps with me and we commune together. And I am learning to allow that to happen even within the walls of church.
So based on Ephesians 5:31-32 –
If marriage and sex mirrors the intimacy God wants with us…
Maybe my husband wants all of me – not just the presentable parts, not just the put together parts, not just the “I feel sexy parts”.
Maybe I am supposed to learn to commune with my husband even when I am a mess. What if becoming One was a sweet time of comfort seen thru tear filled eyes? What if sex was a confirmation that we are in this together – no matter what – even through our brokenness? Could communing together relieve stress and create laughter and playfulness when things don’t go quite as planned? What if I did not have to be put together – but I could bring all that I am, to my husband?