I regret to inform you that your services will no longer be required in our relationship. When Tim first recognized you existed we had to thank you immediately for holding us together. Your ability to keep both of us very close was impressive. Each time we had a problem we could always add another rubber-band to make our relationship feel stronger. Thank you for making us feel connected. Becca gained spiritual connection from you and Tim received emotional validation and comfort.
Your rubber-bands had many names: more time together, deep conversations, compromises, unspoken agreements and high expectations. We can see how these seemingly healthy and harmless rubber-bands had us fooled. We believed that your rubber-bands were necessary in order to have a healthy marriage. You sure kept us busy working to maintain the perfect “healthy relationship.” You gave us a feeling of superiority with all those tightly wound bands, to compensate for our insecurities. The dense ball of connections seemed invincible.
Boy, were we surprised with what a little dynamite in the center could do. We know you would have preferred if that bomb never went off. You tried to protect us from it the only way you knew how, by pulling us tighter through your control. Happily, you were unsuccessful.
BOOM! Each band disintegrated and unraveled so quickly when the truth finally came out. Those dirty brown rubber-bands were no longer hidden. Hello guilt trips, shaming, blaming, lying, selfishness, rages, criticisms, control, manipulation, false masks and attempted compensation for the other person’s deficits. All these things certainly were holding us close together. We had seen the ugly rubber-bands faintly before, but remember, we were distracted by your beauty.
We thought you were doing a really good thing for us. And in some ways you did. We really did love to be together, and we really did grow in some cool ways. But, you were an empty, powerless idol. You could only react to situations by snapping us back together.
God let you live for a little while, but His jealousy for our hearts called to us and, you see, we heard Him. Even if we tried to reform you, I’m afraid it will never be the same. We have to give you up. It’s hard because you were there in almost all our most pleasurable moments. We see your form in picture after picture, but you were never real — you were the figment of our imagination, not part of God’s plan. I’m sorry if that is hard for you to hear.
So, that’s who your replacement is, God Himself, the Creator of the whole universe and Redeemer of our souls. When you fell apart under the pressure of circumstances, He was there to start picking up our pieces. Instead of bouncing around believing that we were safe and sound wrapped up with rubber bands, we saw that we would only be safe wrapped up with Him.
We are now welded onto an immovable steel pylon. We say this with all humility, but any weaker structure would be an insult to God’s capabilities.
You just weren’t good enough, rubber-band ball. We thank you for your temporary stability, but God numbered your days. Living in tents, Abraham knew his architect and builder would ultimately be God. Let it be known Tim and Becca are no longer in the construction business. God now has the titles of Architect and Builder of our hearts too.
Rest in Peace,
Tim and Becca