Losing my submission?

When Ward left one of my greatest fears was that I would lose my submission. I wrote about it in a post right after he left, When Submission Is Hard. I worried than when he was not here that I would lose that focus, that I would become so used to not being led that I would feel resistant to his authority.




It's hard to explain the experience of being submissive. I imagine, like everything else in this life that everything is very individualized, everyone's experience a little different. For me, when he is here, the air is easy in my lungs, I have a level of comfort that is extraordinary, my focus is sharp, all the noise that invades our lives fades away. It's just me, my man, my children, our unit.




I was terrified that when he left I would be swirled up and pulled under. In the post I mentioned above, I said "I feel a bit lost and rudderless...my guide is gone." I have found that, yes, sometimes I am sad and overwhelmed, yes, sometimes I feel that I am drowning. But my guide is not gone. He is in my heart, he is my anchor. While the seas may be rough, and I may be tossed about, I am safe, because he holds me in his heart, and I hold him in mine.

I realized in that post that my service could be expressed by making him proud, by being strong and supportive, and by representing him well. I represent him and his leadership as the head of this family. I know his expectations. I understand his vision and his goals for us and for our family. And even if he is not physically here, I can be what he wishes me to be, I can conduct myself in ways that make myself proud, and make him proud, and further our journey. I can be aware that he is a strong and virtuous man who has provided structure to support us in his absence.

Ward had an unexpected opportunity to call us a few weeks ago. I was sitting here doing school work, and his ringtone came over the phone. I wheeled around and stared at the phone, time seemed to come to a stop. The boys were jumping up and down, "He's calling you! He's calling you!" I answered the phone, head spinning, heart pounding, "Ward?" And a rich, thick, honey-smooth voice said, "Hello, sweetheart."

 And I felt his smile and I felt his warmth, and I felt not one single centimeter of distance. I felt, if possible, closer to this man that I adore. I felt myself fold into him, and it was comfortable. I was home. My fears were unfounded, there is no distance too far, no burden great enough to lessen the love and devotion I feel for him. Losing my submission? Not at all. My desire to please him, and to serve him, and to love him, and to be his soft place to land has not diminished, it has grown exponentially.