how to heal a relationship after an argument

My tendency after my husband and I have an intense “discussion” is to dissect each and every point in which I’m right and he’s wrong. I go through my mental transcript of our “conversation” and justify myself — my ill feelings, my poorly chosen words, my straight up ugly — while condemning and blaming him for his. And I do it almost subconsciously. Almost. And if not subconsciously then definitely naturally.

I mean I don’t have to make myself justify my unlove and ungrace. I naturally do it with professional critique and lawyer-like arguments. And the result is always and forever the same when I go that route. The result is always and forever pride, which always and forever leads to desolate lands.

 

 

We had one of our uglier “discussions” last weekend over something ridiculous, rooted in something bigger. But then Easter happened. And God absolutely, faithfully broke me over my own sin. He gave me fresh glimpse of the scandalous reality of the gospel.

I mentioned a couple of weeks ago how I’m reading that book The Calvary Road by Roy Hession. Reading…being crushed by…however you want to say it. So I was “reading” this book after our lovely display of depravity and as I read Hession’s words describing the characteristics of a bondservant of Christ, I knew God was calling me to humble repentance.

But I couldn’t do it. Not really. I mean, I wanted to repent in the sense that I wanted to obey God. I knew mentally that I had a role in our argument. And I did ask my husband to forgive me. But I didn’t feel it. I didn’t feel repentant. I felt like I wanted to defend myself. And really, that desire to defend, in and of itself, points to the depths of my need for a Savior. In fact I’m coming to the realization that doing something just because I know I should, is no more noble or righteous than not doing the thing at all. It’s just further evidence of my desperation for Jesus.

So by God’s absolute grace, I asked Him to break my heart for my own sin. I told him that I didn’t want to just say confession words. I wanted to see myself in light of His glory so that the confession flowed from a place of brokenness. And He answered.

He broke my heart.

 

And I (Isaiah) said: “Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!”
Isaiah 6:5

 

It was like He lifted the veil of pride just for a second so I could see myself in light of His beautiful, selfless perfection in Jesus. And I felt utter shame for my sin followed by overwhelming joy that He would still die for me while I was yet His enemy.

And with that revelation, He changed my feelings.

I went to my husband and apologized from a place of God-given humility. It wasn’t something that I conjured. It wasn’t even something I did because I knew it was the right thing to do. It was something He did in me in spite of me. He allowed me to see the shame of my own sin next to His undeserved grace. And I broke.

What does all of this blabbing mean to you? Well, take it as a challenge — just as I’m challenging myself. Take it as a challenge to be broken for your own junk-in-the-trunk. I’m pretty certain that is the wrong use of that phrase but it just fits.

It’s easy to point out all the mess we see in others. That’s the easy, natural thing. The hard, anti-flesh thing is to reflect on our own mess before a holy God. But honest, God-given repentance followed by rejoicing in the cleansing of His blood is the only road — the Calvary road — that brings the abundant, selfless life Christ died to give. And that will be the only real step towards healing in any relationship.

 
Fill me, Lord…

Think of a recent, not-so-pretty “exchange” you had with someone else. How would selflessness look in the aftermath of that messiness?