Love Honor and Obey

When I was four I had it all figured out. I knew all the right answers in Sunday School, I could read and I'd already jumped off the high dive. I had the world in my cute little hands. Then I my dad physically threatened my mom and I wasn't allowed to talk about it. The house grew dark and shadows filled my heart, I was terrified. We dealt with it by pretending that nothing happened and everything that I knew about the world changed. In that moment, I learned that love was a sham.

In our wedding vows we promised to love honor and obey each other, there was nothing said about honesty or truth. I did my best. I loved in the loyal sick way I had learned as a child. Honoring meant I never spoke the truth but made him look good. Obeying I did like a beaten dog, I cowered and withdrew.

We played the game I had learned when I was four. There was unbelievable violence and we smiled and looked perfect. If someone asked me about bruises, I lied.

They all knew the truth. They could see it in my cowering stance, in my tentative smile, in my diverted gaze. I remember the stray dog we found at McDonalds. She was hungry and scared of us and at the same time so needing love. She submitted and cowered and crept closer for the hamburger crust. So betrayed, so hungry, so unloved.

I went through many years as a beaten dog. I smiled, I pleased, I cowered. I wanted love so desperately that I would take the crusts and be happy to have that.