What’s Wrong with Your Face?

I crack up every time I read that someone has gotten control of their tongue, but that their face is another matter. Or that they know to hold their tongue, but they haven’t figured out how to keep their face from betraying them. They may not say what’s on their mind, but everyone knows what they’re thinking… all because of their face.

I laugh because I can relate. Almost a decade ago, my hubby and I had gotten into a bit of a fight. We were still figuring out the whole disagreement in marriage thing, he was (and still is) a very calm and peaceful person, and I tended to try to cut others with my words since I was feeling insecure. After I tried inflicting as much damage as I felt I could get away with during this argument, I went silent – silent because my hubby was still calm and seemingly unaffected – and that made me oh so very mad.

I suppose you might see it as a temporary truce when it’s time to sit down for dinner and our lack of communication skills are getting us nowhere. We all – three kiddos, my father-in-law, and the happily married couple – sat down at the table, said a prayer, and started dishing up food. Our three-year-old was studying me pretty closely and finally asked – Mommy, are you mad?

Naturally, because it’s wrong to unload on a toddler, I told her that nothing was wrong, and I wasn’t mad. I suppose I could have been struck down by lightning right then and there, but instead I had something else coming. A split second went by before she asked her final question on the matter – Then what’s wrong with your face?

Yes, I was put in my place not by lightning, but by a three-year-old. Everyone else at the table burst out laughing so uncontrollably that I couldn’t help but crack a smile. The metaphorical bomb was diffused and was eventually neutralized. While I’m not proud of this moment in my life, it is one of my favorite stories because it helps me remember to not take myself so seriously… and that I still have plenty to work on to improve myself.

I don’t believe that it’s okay to hold onto anger even when it’s justified, but what is a good way to sort the rage? I also don’t just want to accept that it’s normal to have the wide range of emotions – I want to know what to do with those emotions that will steer me in a healthy direction. Giving my husband the silent treatment is not healthy and isn’t teaching our kiddos healthy communication skills.

How I am with others – the highs and the lows – is going to be how I am with God. That realization has caused me to approach situations differently.

I’ve struggled in the past with the book of Psalms because I didn’t understand the roller coaster of emotions that David brought to God. Wasn’t he supposed to be a man after God’s own heart? In one moment, he was over-joyed and the next he was mostly disrespectful. He goes from expressing confidence in God as his provider, his refuge and fortress, an ever-present help in time of need – to begging God to not cast him away (I imagine ugly tears being a part of it). If his words were so clear in expression, I wonder how his face looked.

I made the decision to reread the book. I once read that if you want to know how to pray, read the book of Psalms. From all of the ups and downs – the highs and lows – we can see pretty clearly that no matter the emotions, we are safe to bring it to God. David was free to express all of himself to his Creator. No holding back. Even the times he was angry at God. Even the times that the words wouldn’t come. I wonder if David ever cried out, Why, God, why? (Psalm 22 comes pretty close).

As I’ve been reading, I’ve noticed that David turned to God for everything and with every emotion. Maybe not right away – David did kind of throw a three-month-long temper tantrum when his friend, Uzzah, was killed (irreverently touched the Ark of the Covenant and was struck down – II Samuel 6:6-11). David knew that he was chosen by God to be the next king of Israel, but he still went through times of depression and doubt.

David regularly expressed himself pretty thoroughly in all the ranges of emotions, and I find it important to note that they weren’t always peppy. He was expressive – angry, confused, tormented, and a host of other not-so-happy-with-God emotions – but he always returned to the truth of who he knew God really was. He always came back to focusing on God’s heart to offer grace before grace was ever justified.

While I’m not at all proud of the moments when I shook my fist at God, I do know that God was not surprised by them, and they didn’t cause Him to love me less. One of the hardest times that I still think of on a regular basis is when we lost three babies in two pregnancies over the course of four months. May sound crazy, but the desire to have twins was there and still is. We had hoped and prayed for them. To say that I was experiencing a bit of anger, confusion, and a lot more than a host of not-so-happy-with-God emotions when we lost them is an understatement. I went silent, and there was something wrong that even my face couldn’t express.

While I have grieved all of my miscarriages, losing the twins has been the hardest. I wish I had known the freedom then that I know now. The freedom to cry out to my Father and allow Him to hold me. Instead, back then, I opted to shut down and offer the silent treatment with the occasional snarky comments meant to draw blood. That’s how I treated my husband, so of course, that’s how I would treat God.

Do you have times when people are wondering what’s wrong with your face? Perhaps the book of Psalms is right for you, too. Read it over and over again… and again. Read it till you start to feel the freedom of being able to express yourself to God. It will cause a massive breakthrough in your relationship with Him. You’ll find that there’s safety in His presence, the warmth of love is found there no matter how you’re feeling.

As you start talking with Him about all of it – the highs and the lows – on a regular basis, you’ll find that you want to spend more time talking with Him. And you’ll start to approach situations differently – in a much more productive way than the silent treatment that I once chose.

Unless the Lord had given me help, I would soon have dwelt in the silence of death. When I said, “My foot is slipping,” your unfailing love, Lord, supported me. When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy. Psalm 94:17-19 NASB