Chosen Families

“You made the heavens and the earth by Your great power and by Your outstretched arm! Nothing is too difficult for You….” Jeremiah 32:17

What is He asking me to believe? To ask?

This week we went on a serendipitous date. Unscheduled, relaxed, with conversation flowing both ways – blissfully normal, and I loved it. By the next evening, my man’s attention and emotions were too crowded for relationship, and I felt alone. A-gain.

It hurts when I slam into the barrier that limits how close emotionally I can be with my mate sometimes. That is a human condition, I know, and certainly a marital one, too. Mars/Venus, I get all that. But emotional limitations in relationship with a loved one who has bipolar disorder go beyond the usual. Believe me. The closest description I’ve heard was the loneliness my mama expressed when my dad’s mind began to slip and fail him, and them. And often he could not discern it himself. A limb amputation would not have produced that degree of separation, loss, and loneliness! Dad looked fine on the outside, but he could no longer engage in life as a full fledged mental or emotional partner with her. In some ways she had to do the thinking for both of them. Nor could he process the complexities of day to day emotional issues. His memory and perception was unreliable as well, so she carried their memories, in context, alone.

I totally get that. Always in the back of my very experienced mind is the awareness that despite his desire, or mine, my man often isn’t able to drive emotionally on the two-way street called Intimacy. It’s hard enough for him to process his own thoughts and feelings, so there’s just not enough room for my car to be on the road at the same time…and when I bruise my head and heart by banging against these unwelcome limitations, I feel lonely and hurt. As my kids say, “Just saying.”

I’m full of ways to describe this . For instance, my bipolar man is like an elevator. The elevator looks on the outside like it goes all the way up to the penthouse suite, which I imagine to be very private and wonderful, with plenty of room for the both of us. After all, he’s so bright, witty, insightful, accomplished. But when the elevator doors open, I find there is actually no room in there for me to ride up! His elevator is crammed full with so many emotions and thoughts of all shapes and sizes jumbled together, pushing, shoving, actually spilling out when the doors open. Sometimes there are only one or two Very Large Emotions, magnified, amplified, demanding. Either way, no matter how hard I push, squeeze, slide, smush, there is not enough room for me – for my emotions, ideas, relationship. Sigh. I miss being in my mate’s elevator, riding up to the two way intimacy that I imagine can be sustained in other marriages, where there is consistent room for both individuals’ minds, will, and emotions.

So, yes, I do keep asking God to do the impossible – make a way for this to work, for even us. It doesn’t hurt to ask. Together we pray “Jesus, we don’t know the limits of this disorder or the limits of what You will do for us, but we are asking You to do as much as will bring You glory.” Sometimes I rest from asking. And that’s OK too. God doesn’t forget the desire of my heart. His relational – emotional elevator has plenty of room for all that I feel, think, desire! And every now and then He provides sweet close common moments with my man…and I can see why God said marriage was a picture of heaven!

Often lonely but always loved,

Joan