Submission, that dirty word

Our church is far away. Like 40 minutes away. We love the people in our church and our pastor, but since our pastor went on a 3-month sabbatical, we’ve been watching and listening to lots of sermons online. I think fellowship is important, but sometimes it’s really liberating to listen to a message in my underwear on the couch, while snuggling with my husband and my doggies. The dogs are usually surprisingly focused in on the messages. Our faithful, furry girls. We usually follow-up couch church with a discussion hashing out what made our stomachs turn and what made our hearts yearn (like that?). Faith is an uncomfortable topic for most public gatherings, but faith always squirmed its way into my family’s table talk. I did not like it. Sometimes, I really would have rather let my brain rest and focus on the decadent casserole my mama had lovingly prepared for us.

Climbing closer to your athletic goal is an excellent metaphor for growing you faith in God. When I first started swimming, there were days I filled my goggles with tears. This sucks. I’m quitting. I should be studying right now. Why did I choose this life of soreness and fatigue? But then I would go a best time or help my team win a relay and all those days of suffering became worthwhile. Although I was reared as a church-goer, I so looked forward to ditching church when I reached college. Free at last! Oddly enough, the urge to attend church came back rather quickly. Who has an urge to go to church? I felt vapid and hollow after a year of being exonerated of my church duty. Pursuing faith was, I guess, important to me after all.

Churchill Chargers! High School State. Relay Up!

Oh, yeah, I had a metaphor going. Just as I had days of  doubt at practice, so I had days of doubt in my faith. Is this worth it? I will not pretend to be more pious than I am. I have a subconscious full of excuses not to read my Bible and not to believe some of the questionable claims within it. I’ve never read the whole thing, but I’d like to make that a goal. If I were to read any other book as I read the Bible, I would never get through it. I look for a topic, read the verses on that topic, then close the good book. Imagine how uninteresting Mansfield Park or your favorite book would be with that routine? Hmmm. Fannie Price….I have no clue who she is, but it sounds like she made a good joke here. This is how I feel about A LOT of people mentioned in the Bible.

So many verses are known and memorized out of context. Ephesians 5:22-33 was read at our wedding. As I stood at the altar (under a tree) and listened to the verses read aloud, I felt some judging eyes on my back. I knew the look well. I had been a pair of those offended eyes months before. Before our pastor helped me take my hardcore feminist glasses off.

Matt serving up some moisture to my dry lips. Whata good chap.

Submission is a dirty word to most females today. It certainly was to me. I am strong. I never want to be known as meek or worse yet, submissive. But is it not the strong among us who know how to submit? Do we not submit in one way or another everyday? Whether it’s when making a compromise with myself or someone else. The marriage structure is not meant to silence women, but to strengthen the relationship. The dirty ‘S’ word is used for women, and then husbands are then compared to Christ. How is that fair?! offended Annie once thought. Oh, the verse is not saying men are without sin, but their love is to be Christ-like. No matter how self-centered I am, Matt is still expected to be willing to sacrifice everything for me, as Jesus did. That is a lofty love. And one that Matt is willing to give with such grace. Give and take. Submit and Sacrifice. It’s mutual submission.

Premarital counseling was wondrous for me, simply because it helped make Ephesians 5 something I could swallow. I hated the taste of those verses for such a long time, but to properly understand the divine love wrapped up in the metaphor of Christ loving the church was so freeing for me. Becoming Matt’s wife did not transform me into Matt’s bond servant. He toils away in the pool and makes a lot of sacrifices for our little family, and I am constantly searching for ways to help make my husband the best he can be. Matt joyfully serves me and I want to joyfully serve him. We’re far from perfect, but the edification that comes from mutual submission is a sturdy structure and a beautiful way to experience love. Like swimming, you do not feel good about your performance every day in marriage, but when the focus and effort persists, a supernatural love can be felt. All worth it for those blissful days of easy speed 🙂