Yesterday I was attempting to explain to an NT friend how lying affected me. I was telling her that I could not stand lying, that it is an offense that I have a very difficult time getting over. But she kept saying, “Well, that is just like anyone. Most people don’t like lying.”
I could not explain to her the show stopping, devastating, tortuous effect that lying has on me. I could not explain to her how, when someone lies to me it seems as if all of the air is sucked out of the room, how I can’t breathe, how my brain locks up, how my world feels as if it will never be the same, how I know what is done cannot be undone and that moment is marred because of a lie. I could not explain how one lie, or even a poorly chosen word, can change everything and turn my structured, orderly world upside down.
But my husband stepped in and told her that I don’t understand or process communication as they do, as NTs do. He said that when someone lies to me it upsets the order in my world, what I know to be true suddenly is not. I am not able to discern honesty and sincerely from sarcasm or lies (they are actually very similar to me because neither is true but now that I better understand sarcasm I no longer view it as a lie). He told her, essentially, that because I do not easily speak the language of NTs (it is not my native language) I rely implicitly on every word that is spoken – and I take each word at face value because the tones and inflections and facial expressions mean nothing to me.
Lying causes my universe to be out of order.
This explanation in and of itself was extraordinary, but what struck me even more was the fact that this man whom I have only known for roughly three and a half years (and only lived as his wife for one and a half) knows me better than people who have known me my entire life. He even knows me (in certain ways) better than I know myself.
That can only be God-orchestrated. There are no other answers to a relationship so personal, so knowing. God has given him a very special insight that allows him to probe dark corners of my mind, my neurology, my physiology and explain what “makes me tick.” He is the other side of this team, this ministry. He listens; he observes. He understands how to reach those parts of me that I can’t face and explain them to people when I can’t find words.
God loves me so much that he sent this man to me, this guardian, this companion, this teacher, this interpreter, the first real friend I have ever had.
Of course, I did not have this revelation immediately. It was roughly 15 hours later as I was waiting for the Metro. And when it hit me, I almost cried. But it was a happy cry.
My husband has been telling me for a long time that I need a revelation of just how much God loves me. Looks like I got it.
And to think, it has been right in front of me the whole time.