Tag Archives: dysfunction

In her book, “The Emotionally Destructive Marriage,” author Leslie Vernick writes, “It’s crucial that you not lose your empathy and compassion even in a destructive marriage… 

One of the things that kills empathy and compassion for someone we once felt love is the buildup of negative emotions, especially resentment.”[i] 

I must assert from the get-go my strong disagreement with Mrs. Vernick’s basic operating premise that our “positive” emotions are to be embraced while our “negative” emotions should essentially be squelched.

 “Transgression speaks to the ungodly within his heart; there is no fear of God before his eyes.  For it flatters him in his own eyes concerning the discovery of his iniquity and the hatred of it.  The words of his mouth are wickedness and deceit; He has ceased to be wise and to do good. He plans wickedness upon his bed; He sets himself on a path that is not good; He does not despise evil.”  Psalm 36:1

During a conversation with a young woman outside a local church, she began to timidly open up about how terrified she was to go home.  Try as she might, she simply could not hold herself together.  She began to tremble, the tears began to flow, and her voice broke as she shared that she was praying for clarity with regard to her relationship with her admittedly abusive husband.  I listened intently and then said as gently as I could, “I think those tears are providing you with all the clarity you need.”  And as the truth slowly began to sink in, she wiped her eyes and nodded in solemn agreement.

I have no idea how long she had been carrying that heavy burden, but I found it tragically ironic when I discovered that she was employed at that church.  I had to wonder how many people in her circle had been aware of her torment and whether those same people told her all the things she “just” needed to do to minister to her wayward husband and save their marriage.

“The one who says, “I have come to know Him,” and does not keep His commandments, is a liar, and the truth is not in him…”  I John 2:4

I had the pleasure of hearing Hal Lindsey speak recently on the subject of reconciliation.  He defined the New Testament term for “reconciliation” as the restoration between two or more parties, which is only made possible when the barriers to relationship have been removed.

Mr. Lindsey’s discourse centered beautifully on the redemptive work of Jesus who, through His sacrifice, broke the bond of sin and judgment that separates us from God.  It was Jesus who made reconciliation possible, yet it is conditioned upon our willingness to allow Him to remove the barriers that keep us apart and consent to His lordship, at which point the old things that hold us bound are put behind us, and we are made new and alive in genuine relationship with Him.

One afternoon less than a year into our marriage, I returned to our apartment to find my then-husband waiting impatiently for me in the living room.  He didn’t waste a moment before severely scolding me for failing to turn off the stereo receiver before leaving home.

He then launched into an in-depth lecture about the sensitivity of the components and the value of the equipment and insisted that my singular offense was “absolutely unacceptable.”  I humbly apologized for the oversight, but he immediately dismissed my apology.

“You have to promise me that will never happen again,” he demanded.

I explained that I would do my best while confessing I could not make such a promise.

“That’s not good enough,” he fumed.  “You have to promise me.”

Upon separating from my abusive husband, a whole new realm of emotions surfaced:  a constant fear of what new tactics my abuser might employ to torment me now that I was no longer within easy reach, fears with regard to the kind of future my children and I might face, and on top of it all there was the heartbreaking realization that some people whom I considered friends clearly could not accept the reality of what was going on my life.

Unfortunately, what might have been deemed simple ignorance was insufficient to enable me to dismiss some people’s responses to me.  It went much deeper than that.  It felt more as though that they simply refused to believe that something so penetratingly dark could have possibly invaded our lives.  Many came alongside to whisper, “There, there,” and pat me on the back and insist that things couldn’t be that bad.  Those ignorant or insensitive or foolish people only made things worse.