Roll to the Middle

The other night I was feeling crabby at Mark.

The details aren't important, but when he pulled back the covers on his side of the bed, I was upset and he knew it.  (He had walked in a few minutes earlier and asked if I was mad at him.  I'd said no but my eyes and body language said otherwise.)  As he settled into bed beside me, I was turned away from him and was spending my time silently musing over all the reasons I was justified in feeling hurt by his actions.

I half-expected him to reach out to me, cautiously settling his hand on my waist-- because he usually does, but I also knew if he did that I would shrug his hand off.  (He probably guessed that would be my reaction, too, which is maybe why he didn't.) 

Minutes passed, and as I lay there I thought of some lines from the song by Sara Groves called Roll to the Middle.  I'll include the lyrics here if you're not familiar with the song:

We just had a World War III here in our kitchen
We both thought the meanest things
And then we both said them
We shot at each other till we lost ammunition

This is how I know our love
This is when I feel it’s power
Here in the absence of it
This is my darkest hour
When both of us are hunkered down
And waiting for the truce

All the complicated wars
They end pretty simple
Here when the lights go down
We roll to the middle

No matter how my pride resists
No matter how this wall feels true
No matter how I can’t be sure
That you’re gonna roll in too
No matter what, no matter what
I’m going to reach for you

And I had the thought, "One of us should roll to the middle; relent, reach out to the other right about now."  (But I didn't want it to be me, of course, so I remained seething on my side of the bed.) 

And then it occurred to me: Mark was already "rolled to the middle"; he was facing me, available for conversation, it was me with the walls up.  So I bit back my pride and rolled over and reached out to him and we began talking.  And all became well again.

I love that last verse of the song: No matter how my pride resists, no matter how this wall feels true, .... no matter what, no matter what, I'm going to reach for you. 

I'm so thankful to be married to this man who is always sure to have rolled to the middle first, who is quick to reach out to me.  He is so good to me, and is a constant reminder to me of God's tender love and mercy toward me, who is so undeserving of it.