Overly Convicted

Sunday was the overwhelming day of conviction.

The day started off with a sermon directed at the wives of the congregation. It should have been entitled, “Why Rachael Kulick is a Horrid Example of a Wife/Someone Hug the George”

I mean, holy Guilt of the Mother, Batman! If it hadn’t been for my son and his piles of legos at my feet, I would have crawled under my seat and rocked in the fetal position.

Maybe that’s an exaggeration.

I felt pretty bad, though.

Our pastor began the sermon with an illustration that mapped out four types of women. The first three were pretty awful and the last one was exemplary.

The woman described was thus: Nagging, gossipy, contemptuous, and disdainful.

Ew.

I had just been nagging the George on our way to church that morning. I tried to put that memory out of my mind by attempting to justify my nagging. I was only reminding him of a promise he’d made to me over a year ago that he had failed to accomplish.

But what about all the things I fail to accomplish daily? The George doesn’t follow me around the house and remind me of my failures.

And then I started thinking about all the times I speak negatively about him to others. I try to play it off as being funny, but I’m still telling others that my husband is a jerk. I’m also letting them know I’m a pretty huge jerk too.

I’m the wife that walks around insisting on instant perfection from my husband, calling him to be a super hero in our home, and giving him no grace whatsoever.

Oh, and he’s supposed to be in love with all my flaws while we’re adding to his list of things to do.

So on the ride to small group, I had a looping dialogue in my head that could be summed up as, “you suck, you suck, you SUCK.”

Our small group is re-reading and discussing Brad House’s book, “Community: Taking Your Small Group Off of Life Support.”  We haven’t been with our small group for very long, so unlike the rest of our members, this is our family’s first time reading this particular book. Let me back track by saying that this year, my resolution was to be more transparent and open with people I want to be in community with. But here’s the kicker: I’m beginning to realize that I don’t want to be in community with anyone. Allowing people into my life is voluntarily giving control over to others. I WANT ALL THE CONTROL. It’s not only a nasty side affect of suffering from OCD, but it’s also one of my greatest sins. It doesn’t just flow into community with friends, it goes all the way to the top. In all honesty, I don’t want God to have control either. If I leave my life and my heart in the hands of God and others, I don’t know the immediate outcome. I could be hurt. I could be uncomfortable. I could be challenged.

Hurt, uncomfortable, and challenged are not my favorite words.

I like my little kingdom.

And I’ve done a lot of self-protecting in the past to keep the borders of my kingdom safe. I know this to be true because while I have a lot of acquaintances, I don’t have a lot of close friends. The George has pointed this out to me before. He calls it my friendship pyramid.

At the bottom are people I know: I’m familiar with your name and I can spot you in public and have a conversation with you that isn’t completely uncomfortable.

A tier above that are people I’m friendly with: I have logged away important facts about you so that we appear to be in a friendship, but you’ve never seen the inside of my home.

The next level is people I like: I have made a concerted effort to seek you out and do fun things. You know interesting facts about me. However, we’ve never had a deep conversation.

Moving upward, we have my friends: This is the handful of people that I believe love me. We share interests. I go to your parties. We have inside jokes. I will do things I don’t like in order to secure your happiness. I will pet your dog and pretend it’s cute.

And at the top, there’s the chosen few: I don’t have a lot of people in my inner circle. These are the people who have actually seen what I’m like with my walls down. They’ve seen a real-life mental break-down. They know I’m a nervous wreck. They know the ugly bits of my past. They understand what makes me tick. There are a few exceptions, but for the most part, the people in this category are close family and my husband.

I suppose that would seem like a normal progression of relationships. But the more I study about the nature of community, the more I realize that I’m not functioning as Christ intended. I fear being exposed. If I extended my boundaries to include not only the chosen few but also my friends and people I like, too many people would have my vital information. I’d essentially hand them a grenade of feelings and wait for them to pull the pin. Here’s the best possible way to permanently injure me. Have fun.

And then there’s the added bonus of being honest. It seems like a freeing concept. “The truth will set you free!” As if truthfulness was an open gate to a pasture filled with daisies. If I am in community with others, who now have my vital information, they now have the responsibility to keep me in check. And as the sermon on Sunday had shown me, I suck. Community, it seemed to me, was a giant emotional beat down in the making.

Wouldn’t it just be easier to go on giving everyone “Church Rachael”? After all, “Church Rachael” is dependable, pleasant, and not a head case.

But I’m feeling the repercussions of years without healthy, Godly community. I crave community with others. Despite my fears, I’m longing for it. I long for others to come along side me and fight the battles of life with me through prayer and encouragement. I want to be able to tell my peers that I’m struggling with my need to strong arm my husband into being the perfect man. I desire people to tell me when my perception of reality is distorted. I need others to speak Christ into my life.

And weirdly, even though I know I suck, I want to be that person for others too. I’m hoping that vulnerability won’t be as painful as I imagine. I’m praying that God can use my brokenness to help another. Perhaps someone else feels like they’re as big a mess as I am. Maybe not having it all together could be my testimony.

“Hi, I’m Rachael and I really suck at doing this life thing. I’m mean to my husband. I’m impatient with my kids. I fall asleep when I pray. I’m really good at disappointing others and I don’t love God nearly enough. Does anyone else feel that way?”