Come Out in the Open
Written by Erin Richer
My husband asked me the other day, “What are you thinking about?” I responded as I often do.
“Nothing.”
He continued to pursue as he often does. “I can tell you’re deep in thought, what’s going on over there?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s nothing new, it’s the same stuff I’ve been thinking about for a week now.”
His next words seem simple, but the tone seems desperate. “I want to know what’s going on in there. Even if you don’t like your thoughts, even if they’re disorganized and messed up, and even illogical, I just want to be with you in it. I want to be where you are.”
The moment he said those words, I knew there was something there, but it wasn’t until days later that it all started to make sense. And it happened in an unusual way. Often my human relationships are what draw pictures and help me understand my relationship with God. But in this case, as I was learning about my relationship with God, it was teaching me about my marriage.
While doing the Bible Reading Plan, I came upon some verses that, while from separate books and chapters, all worked together to teach me something about God.
In Numbers, I learned that God cares about the details and demands holiness. He is just and every detail is accounted for.
In Psalms I read, “…in His largeness nothing gets lost; not a man, not a mouse slips through the cracks” (Psalm 36:6, MSG), but also that when we keep our “stuff” all bottled up it turns into day-long groans and the pressure we feel inside never lets up. But when we let it all out our guilt is dissolved and our sin disappears.
Also from Psalms, God calls us out into the open: “Open up before God, keep nothing back; he’ll do whatever needs to be done: He’ll validate your life in the clear light of day and stamp you with approval at high noon” (Psalm 37:5-6 MSG).
God calls me out into the open with Him. He’s teaching me to run to Him with my nasty thoughts and ugly sin. Not that He doesn't see every sin and all of my guilt already, but that in my vulnerability with Him and in Christ, it’s wiped clean. He desperately loves me and desires to be with me… in my complete vulnerability and nakedness before Him.
Finally, in Song of Songs, the same message comes through in chapter 2: “Come, my shy and modest dove—leave your seclusion, come out in the open. Let me see your face, let me hear your voice. For your voice is soothing and your face is ravishing” (Song of Songs 2:14 MSG).
His love is not a modest love, its a fierce love that obliterated the boundary of His holiness to draw us into Him in Christ. To let Him see us in our imperfect states, to hear our voices and their imperfect thoughts, to share our feelings in their imperfect forms is the only appropriate response to this kind of love pursuit. It’s surrender.
We surrender so that He can lavish us with His love, remind us we are forgiven, wash us white as snow.
It was this realization that God wants to be with me in all of it, that simply letting Him have access to all of the depths of me somehow results in fully falling into Him limp but full of life, and suddenly my lungs open and the universe reveals wide open spaces to breathe.
These are the verses, these are the truths that have illustrated the kind of love my husband wants to offer when he says, “I want to be where you are.” What he’s actually saying is, “Don’t hide from me. I want to see your face and hear your voice.” He doesn’t want my perfectly formed thoughts or my emotions filtered through—let’s be honest—self-righteousness. He wants to be with me in my naked, vulnerable, imperfect thoughts. My tear streaked face and swollen pink cheeks that will inevitably follow the outpouring of the reality of what’s in my heart, a reality that sometimes is really nasty, are somehow beautiful to him. I can’t imagine how, but, much like I trust God, I will trust my husband at his word that they are.
It’s funny though—he rarely has anything extraordinarily helpful to say in response. And it makes sense as I write this, because it’s not usually advice that I need. It’s the healing that happens when all of that pent up ugliness and emotion dissolves when I let it all out before him and I realize he still deeply, madly, astonishingly loves me.
It’s a strange place to be practicing entering into love like this both in my marriage and with God, but they feed off of one another and the growth is happening so drastically and so quickly that I can actually see the difference. I’m learning to come out of hiding in both my marriage and my soul, and it’s an incredibly beautiful thing.
