Avoidance=Losing

​by Matt Krieg
Like water, I seem to choose the path of least resistance. The easiest thing to do is what I am naturally inclined to do. 

This came to the surface a few days ago when talking with Laurie. I am not the most introspective person, but Laurie has a way of inviting me to talk deeply.

This particular conversation started with a simple statement of fact from her: “I don’t know why I don’t feel close to you right now.”

It isn’t totally abnormal or bad for us to feel this way. We have our seasons of closer or further connectedness. I was ready to chalk it up to our mutual need for solitude when Laurie offered another thought: “You are always very attentive to Winnie [our one-year-old], but it feels like you are avoiding me.” She looked away. I could tell this conversation was uncomfortable for her, too.

She wasn’t wrong. I was subconsciously avoiding her. Not physically—there was no running from the room when she entered—but I was distancing myself emotionally from her in conversations.  I engaged her at a surface level, but I did not pursue her as an active conversation participant. I was acting like the teenager who gets home from school and responds to every inquiry with a non-committal, “Sure…” 

I don’t know how long this had been going on. The exact length of time doesn’t really matter; what is important is why I felt the need to avoid.  

Before my confession this spring about my secret struggle with pornography, I most often fled emotionally because I carried a blanket of guilt and shame. But I have not engaged in that since my confession. I was not feeling guilt and shame, so why was I retreating from her this weekend?

The truth is that I wasn’t really running from Laurie.

I was running from our ministry—or rather, the tiredness I was feeling from ministry. 
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We live in our office, and I am married to my only other co-worker (outside of our board). We both like what we are doing, so our “normal,” family conversations easily shift to dreaming, problem solving, and talking how we can grow the ministry together. 

But I was tired. We were both tired. I wanted more conversations about Winnie’s cuteness, sports, or dreaming of a vacation we might have someday. I wanted to rest my tired brain and emotions from ministry talk.

I needed this for my own health, but our marriage needed it too. I needed to see Laurie not as a co-worker or even as a co-parent, but as my best friend, God-appointed helpmate, and partner in life. I needed to see her as the fun, thoughtful, beautiful woman I fell in love with eight years ago. 

But rather than doing the courageous thing and saying directly to Laurie, “I love you, but I really just need some time with you as my wife and best friend,” I took the path of least resistance and avoided her.

I escaped into my world of puzzle books and Winnie’s silly antics.

Winnie finishes breakfast while I play with her and do a puzzle book.

There is nothing wrong with me doing logic puzzles and enjoying my daughter, but when it gets in the way of courageously conveying to Laurie what I need, I am displaying a deeper issue of avoiding problems when life gets hard.

God didn’t make me for that.  Joshua 1:9 says,  “This is my command--be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.”

God was exhorting Joshua for a time of battle, but isn’t the pursuit of oneness in marriage, family, and the church a battle as well? Doesn’t unity in the spirit do damage to the enemy who wants to corner us, make us feel alone, and then more easily tempt us to make poor choices?

Battle may not look like a bloody, loud, flag-waving mess. It can look like simple, direct, sometimes painful conversations that lead to greater oneness.