Oriental Poppies (again)

Oriental Poppies by Georgia O’Keefe, 1927

I’m showing this strikingly beautiful painting again because I think Ms. O’Keefe did the opposite of what I tried to do in my last post. She didn’t try to escape anything or remove herself from her problem. She examined her subject until what she saw was its essentials. Not the prettiness, not the traditional view, but the heart.

And the heart of my problem is that I’m confused and just skirting around my confusion instead of facing it. Just when I think I’m looking at my marriage in a healthier way, noting the toxicity of it, finding problem areas, I realize that I am still reacting badly. I’m not strong, and I’m not living from my CORE. The problems are slow problems, very slow, years slow, and I don’t like admitting that getting over these problems is going to take just as long. After dinner my husband read loudly and with passion from Revelation, and then he prayed that people be patient with each other. I just don’t know. How patient can I be? What I do know is that my silent patience has often ended up in vain because he forgets the thing I wanted him to do. What I do know is that the farm eats him up, more and more, and it’s like quicksand: if he tries to work harder to free himself some time, the farm doubles back with extra work. Am I called to feel sorry for him, or to be patient with him? I don’t want him to think that it’s all okay with me. He would start singing my praises again, and telling people what a great wife he has. Whatever. I’m not great, and I don’t want flattery. I want reform.

So, Oriental Poppies. There’s good in my life somewhere, but right now that good is sitting out in the elements somewhere, covered up, like my van, which I got stuck in the snowy driveway. Maybe I’ll find the beauty years later, looking back, realizing the places God took me, and the blessings those places eventually brought me. I doubt it though. The only beautiful thing about right now is the fact that I’ll maybe forget it someday. But right now… I don’t know. I’m confused.

After rereading this, I start to wonder if the point is that I’m powerless. What’s going on might be between my husband and God. I have my own strengthening to do with God, but the problems… I don’t know. That doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, either.


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