So today marks two weeks.
No, of nothing exciting... two weeks of enduring the silent treatment. Two weeks of watching water trickle, oh so slowly, under the bridge. Two weeks of an angry husband.
It saps my energy. I think about that statement and images of maple trees with their tin buckets and rubber trees with their half coconuts attached to spigots jammed deep in their insides fill my mind. The sap running out, dripping slowly from a wound. Their very energy slowly dripping. This is how I feel today. A slow drip of energy, constantly seeping out of me. I suddenly feel deep sympathy for the trees, and guilt for enjoying the sweetness of maple and the protection of rubber without a thought.
Psalms and Proverbs talk so much about our words... the power in them. Life and death is in the power of the tongue. (or in this case, the absence thereof.)
Only worse than the silence are the times he does speak. The power of words designed to hurt. I opened my Bible early this morning, and read Ps 109:28. "Let them curse, but do Thou bless."
Do Thou bless.
(I don't usually read that version with the "Thou's", but I liked this verse that way.)
Do Thou bless.
Bless me, God, two weeks in. My strength, my very energy is drained out of me like the sap out of a tree, and I tire easily. I struggle with watching someone act normal and happy in groups and silent and sullen at home. I feel rejected, hurt, unloved, not of value. Silent tears seep out of my eyes in quiet moments. Do Thou bless. I need Your blessing now. Do Thou bless.