Author: River

I came to Christ at the tender age of eight.  I had been attending church with my sister, 11 yrs my senior.  She had developed an relationship with Christ, and was the one instrumental in bringing my parents back to God and me to Him for the first time.  We were attending a small country church where the minister ended each service with an  invitation for anyone wanting to be “saved” to come forward.  Even as a child I so wanted to go forward.  My heart would pound and I knew I should go.  I also felt like no one would take me seriously as I was a kid.  This seemed to be an adults only situation.  I did not speak to anyone about it.  I just kept thinking someday I would have the courage to do it.  

Come mid summer there was a revival.  It was the annual three nights of church services aimed at bringing as many as possible to Christ.  We had a special guest speaker and singers.  On the final night, church members were asked to take a pew and invite enough people to fill it.  My family, although attending, were not official members and were asked by another member to attend.  I believe there were some doubts about the status of my dad’s soul, so we counted.  He was only attending church sporadically at that time.  We were assigned to sit on the front row of the church.  Just prior to service starting an older lady had a heart attack and EMS was called.  Service was started after she was taken to the hospital by ambulance.  The invitation at the service end had a large number of responders never seen before in that church.  The entire wooden alter was completely surrounded by people on their knees.  Seeing mortality up close and personal will do that I suppose. What the situation and my front pew location did for me at age 8 was provide an easy access for kneeling at the alter unseen by the adults.  It was just a couple of steps and I was there.  I knelt and told God I wanted to be “saved”.  I immediately felt a hand on my shoulder and my dear 19 yr old sister was there praying for me.  She led me in a prayer admitting my sins and asking for God’s forgiveness.  I asked him to live in my heart and help me live my life for him.  Even at 8 yrs old I knew something wonderful had just happened.  I felt a lightness of spirit and soul alike none before.  It was not emotion of the moment.  It was not the fear of dying.  It was not the singing nor the sermon.  It was God calling me to be his.  I answered yes and He showed up.  Even the poison ivy on my arm was completely healed without my asking.  No rash— no itching.  I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt I had met God.  

I invite you to consider where you are right now.  Do you, reader have a relationship with God?  He so desires one with you.  He so much desires one that He sent His son to die on a cross so that he could have the opportunity to have that relationship.  (John 3:16)  Jesus willingly gave his life in order to have a life with you.  For Jesus did not stay in the grave, but defeated death and the powers of this world in order to guarantee you to a life in Him (Romans 5:10-11).  None of us were good enough to gain that life in Him without the sacrifice Jesus made. (Romans 3:23).  He just asks that you admit your need of him, otherwise known as you have sin that needs forgiven, desire a relationship with him, and accept Jesus as Lord of your life.  (Romans 10: 9-10).  Praying and believing those words will allow God to enter your life, forgive your sin, and begin a relationship with you.  (Romans 5: 1 and 8: 1).  This is a love that nothing can separate you from (Romans 8:38-39).  If you prayed that prayer let me be the first to welcome and congratulate you on the miracle of your new life! You are a child of God for praying those words. You are reconciled with your creator, perfect father, and savior who calls you by name and loves you beyond description!  I encourage you to visit YouVersion.com where you can download a free Bible (The Message version is a very easy reading translation.  On here I use the New Living Translation) There is also an app for some resources to begin reading about your new life in Christ.  I also recommend you connect with a local church to join with other believers who can help you in your new life in Christ.  There is no pastor or lay minister I know that would not be very happy to meet and speak with you about your new life in Christ.  

My childhood experience as real  It started a relationship with God that I still enjoy to this day.  The road has not always been smooth, but God as always been faithful   Now let us fast forward several decades one of these exceptionally rocky times.  As I said, I had lived a life as a Christian.  I had kept my relationship with God close.  I had worked in and for the church in many capacities.  I had grown in my belief and understanding of God.  I had been Spirit filled and led for the majority of my life.  So how does a decades long believer come to a crisis of faith?  For me it was anger and the desire for control.  You see, I had never really been angry at God.  I did not think one could  or even should be angry with God.  He is God right?  He is creator, savior, and a loving Father.  How could I consider being angry with Him?  Well I did.  I became very angry with God. 

You see I had two precious sisters.  My oldest sister, Debbie was 18 years older than I and unfortunately had a much more difficult life than I had.  She was the only child from my mother’s first marriage.  Debbie had the misfortune of being a baby that was to be what held a marriage together and as we know that usually does not work.  Her dad did not want to be married to our mother. He married her because of the pressure of his mother to settle down.  With the lack of desire to be a married family man,  it became apparent he did not want my sister.  It was evident in everything he did for the rest of his life.  I loathed him from the time I new of his existence for hurting my mother and sister.  I should have pitied him. That unfortunate man will never know the wonderful blessing he cast aside.   

Two years later my dad and his family entered my mother and sister’s lives.  He married my mother when my sister was nearly three.  In what should have been a wonderful family situation, Debbie suffered abuse of another kind.   Completely rejected by her dad and abused in a family that should have helped her heal from the rejection, Debbie was set for an emotionally difficult life.  She found God, her loving father, as an adult and lived what she believed.  She married out of high school, but had tumultuous relationship due to her past experiences with men in general.  The culture was one of covering family secrets not dealing with them.  Therapy was not prevalent in that time period, so she never was able to deal with the past hurts and emotional damage the way she needed to.  I am not saying Debbie did not have a good life or good times.  She had people that loved her, a nice house, a good job she like, newer car, friends, a church family, and at first glance an over all good life.  It was just a life where she always seemed to be working for something.  Like she aways expecting to be rejected.  She always felt inferior, not enough, not worthy…..   Growing up I didn’t to know all of her history.  I knew of her dad, but not the complete rejection.  I did not know about the abuse until I was an adult.  I just knew Debbie although appearing strong had a weakness and needed protecting.  

At age 65 my dear sister, who was only ever hospitalized to give birth, was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.  It is a cancer with one of the lowest cure rates.  The difficulty is that is can be present in the body for years without symptoms.  Once the symptoms start, it is often too late for treatment to be successful.  She went in for surgery to remove the cancer, but with some early exploration was found to already have metastatic areas throughout her liver and colon.  The curative surgery turned to a palliative effort to permit her to eat for a while longer.  As  soon as the nurse came out to give the report of the metastatic disease I knew all of my prayers and those our family were not going to be answered the way we wanted.   Unless God chose to do a miraculous healing, my sister had just been given a medical death sentence.  It was one of the very few moments in my life I wished I did not have the medical field background and knowledge I had.  I heard the death bell ring.  This was something I could not protect her from nor cure.  I most certainly had lost control of the entire situation—like I ever had control of any of it to begin with.  I was struggling with Debbie’s diagnosis and my medial knowledge juxtaposed with my faith and desire for a miracle.  My experience that God could do and still does miracles.  the former tended to overshadow the latter.  She chose to attempt to fight the cancer and when able began chemotherapy.  I was the only one that did not want her to do it because I knew it would not be successful  and would result in some terrible side effects.  Despite this I supported her in her desire and choice.   I prayed.  I prayed and prayed.  Every prayer chain that existed in the area had her name on it.  Every praying person I knew was asked to pray.  The chemo did not work.  The miraculous physical healing did not come.  For the next eight months I, along with my family had to watch a physically strong woman wither into near nothingness.  She was in pain.  She was nauseated.  She vomited.  She lost her hair.  She was a shadow of what she had been before. She was suffering.  I was not in control of any of it.  I could not fix any of it.  

I became so angry at God.  If He was not to going to heal her then why leave her here to suffer?  Why not take her in her sleep so that she could have the new body we are promised on the other side.  Why was she suffering so much for so long?   Why were new diagnoses of deep vein blood clots and a broken ankle from a fall being allowed?   Why was she suffering the humiliation of bed bathes and incontinence?  Why was my sister who had suffered so many insults and hurts in her life going through this too?   Why was she living this nightmare when she has tried so hard all her life to live what scripture taught?  These were the questions I asked.  One particular night even Debbie who had such grace during this whole ordeal asked for the first and only time I heard, “Why me?”  I had no answer,  but to cry with her.  Later that night after she was asleep I walked outside to scream at God under the stars.  I was angry and could not see Him there, because the situation was not what I thought was best.  We were supposed to have a miraculous healing.  We were supposed to be able to share with all those praying how God had answered those prayers with a healing that confounded the medical world.  She was not supposed to suffer this way.  The supposed to’s did not happen and I was very angry.  Despite my yelling there was not a lightening strike. I was left standing in the yard with the stars still twinkling.  This is where crisis of faith can happen.  It is where I yell at God from a back yard.  

I read the book “A Ring of Endless Light” by Madeleine L’Engle as a teen.  It was one of the last books she wrote and dealt with death in various fashions.  In it the grandfather tells the main character when she is struggling with a death that God can handle your anger.  I had never been angry with God.  I had never before wanted something so different from what He was doing.  It was difficult to seek him in my anger.  It was difficult to praise him in my anger.  I began pulling away.  Romans 8 talks of nothing being able to separate us from God’s love.  He never stopped loving me regardless of my anger.  He kept on loving me when I yelled.  He kept on loving me when I pulled back.  He kept on loving me when I was so sure I was right.  He kept loving me no matter how angry I was.  Ms. L’Engle was right.   God could handle my anger.  Even after Debbie did have a perfect healing on her way to heaven and she was buried I was angry.  It took time, but I was able to finally talk to God about it and come to terms with God being sovereign.  We live in a spiritual kingdom with the perfect king.  It is not a democracy where I get to vote.  Yes He is my father and wants to give me all I need for an abundant life.  Because He is omniscient He is able to see so much more than I can see.  He makes his choices on knowledge I do not have and most likely cannot comprehend.  I do not have to understand or even like what He chooses to do.  My job is to have faith and trust that He has the ability to see the big picture and know what is coming before I.  I was devastatingly surprised in a hospital waiting room, but God was not.  He had the whole situation in his hands.  I can speculate that maybe we needed the time for goodbyes.  Maybe Debbie needed the time.  Maybe Debbie needed to know how much we loved her as her sisters and daughters took shifts in days to take care of her. Maybe our bed baths, hand holding, cooking, and cleaning spoke volumes to her.  Maybe it made up for the times we did not or could not say words that should have been said before the end.  Maybe her husband needed time to come to terms with losing his wife.  Maybe her daughters needed just a little more time with their mother.  Maybe I needed the time to sit bedside my sister and watch HGTV making the last Valentines she would give her grandkids.  Maybe…… just maybe.   

I do believe God was there.  As I said Debbie faced all of this with such grace.  God had to be there.  She was not bitter.  She was not angry.  She was peaceful.  She amazed me in this.  I think that is how God touched and provided for her on this side.  Her passing was peaceful.  I was not able to be at her side at that moment, but all there said she attempted to sit up smiling at the foot of the bed.  She was assisted back to a lying position and still smiling breathed her last.  I know the God that I had asked to heal my sister did. He healed her completely with a new body and gave her a beautiful world without cancer or pain.  That same God then helped me through my anger and pain to a belief that He is there even when I cannot see him.  He is there when I do not understand.  He never stopped loving me.  Madeleine was right.  God can handle my anger.  

“Two people are better off than one, for they can help each other succeed.  If one person falls the other can reach out and help.  but if someone who falls alone is in real trouble…..A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated, but two can stand back to back and conquer.  Three are even better, for a triple-braided-cord is not easily broken”.  Ecclesiastes 9-12 NLT

“When Jesus woke up, he rebuked the wind and the raging waves.  Suddenly the storm stoped and all was calm.”  Luke 8: 25 NLT

So I found myself divorced. As I’ve said many times in other posts this is not where I had ever thought I would be.  Let me clarify that a bit. It’s not that I ever thought that I was too good to be divorced. It was not that my religion didn’t condone divorce. It was not that I believed every marriage is completely salvageable. The real reason I never thought I would be divorced is because I was committed to marriage. I was committed completely to my marriage. I spoke those vows very seriously. I would not have worked so hard on the relationship if I had not been so committed.  I would have not forgiven the other emotional affairs up to this point, if I had not been so committed. I believed we could be the couple that celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. I was very proud of having been married 26 years. I fully planned on the “until death do us part” thing. 

In my line of work I am blessed to meet so many couples that have been married 50 and 60 plus years.  I had one 80+ year old tell me his wife  of 62 years could not go to sleep “without her kiss goodnight” while she blushed and nodded.  I always thought that was so sweet and romantic.  Although I still believe longevity love and marriage are to be celebrated greatly, I now have a bit of a different view.  I now wonder, what did they have to face together?  What did they work through?  What trial may have almost split them up?  What was the glue that caused them to stay married?  Love, definitely.  Commitment most assuredly.  Determination, you bet.  Humor, most necessary. The answer I believe is work.  Yes, that 4 lettered, most unromantic concept ever suggested is what kept them together.    

I’m not a real fan girl, but I do think one Hollywood mega star was spot on in his Oscar acceptance speech. In thanking is wife, he said that marriage is work. He then told his wife that there was no one else he would rather work with and thanked her for working with him. The media gave him such grief for talking about the work of marriage rather than some flowery ‘thanks for your support’ speech.  I even at that time thought it a bit odd.  Today, I completely understand what he was saying. It is a huge truth our society wants to ignore. I thought it was a wonderful complement to want to work with someone.  Marriage is work. Marriage is not flowers and love sonnets 24/7—that is a wedding.  A marriage takes work by two people to make the becoming “one flesh” thing happen successfully. It takes two people working to be partners, supporters, and teammates, to grow a beautiful oneness spoken of in Genesis 2:24.  

Unfortunately, not all weddings result in a real partnership to achieve that terrific oneness.  Yes, there are some days one will not be able to give the 100% needed.  The other gives the extra those days to make up the difference. Even scripture tells this is the case and to the benefit of both people. (Ecc 4:9)  There are great problems when only one person tries to work.  No one ever is able to constantly give everything it takes to make something work for two. For true success each person must work.  For great success they must work together.   

When the relationship reaches a point when one person has been working the most for the duration it is an imbalance that cannot be sustained.  The worker will become exhausted.  The relationship will suffer without the aid of the second person.  Yes for the last several years of my marriage I was the worker.  I was the one trying to make it work.  I am not saying if only. I cannot go there. It is a soul draining trap that will leave me dry and stuck in the past. I am however realizing that like so many things as complicated as a marriage it is never just one aspect, one event, or one choice that leads to the demise.  There was a process that let up the exhaustion and demise of the marriage. Just as in a perfect storm this require multiple different events to occur at a certain point in time, so does the events that lead to the demise of a marriage. We had a perfect storm. 

Our perfect storm had multiple fronts.  I had become angry with and stepped back from God. My ex husband had stepped very far away from God during the same time. I, after caring for my dying sister, was engulfed in grief and depression. I was dealing with an ill mother and trying to meet her needs as she transitioned to a nursing home permanently.  I was the focus of her anger, which deepened my depression and grief.  He was feeling the empty nest much more acutely than I.  He was believing a huge part of his life was over, not just evolving.  He felt less than successful having never really recovered emotionally nor financially from a severe career hit several years before.  He felt lost to his family of origin due to family dynamics and the passing of his dad.  I had been his sole support system as he had no male friends he confided in.  I was no longer able to fully support him, due to my emotional/mental state. I needed his support, but he was not accustomed to being the supporter.  Given his mental state he was not able to support me either.  Had he supported me, I most likely could have assisted supporting him.  At the core, we had somewhere along the way stopped working together.  We each tried to work through life’s trial and problems on our own.  We were no longer the team.  We were roommates and no longer partners.  We were not standing back to back to support and fight off the multiple areas of attack hitting us  (Ecclesiastes 4:12).  Yes, it was a perfect storm.  A perfect storm that led to the end of our marriage. 

What is most important to realize is Jesus is able to calm any storm—even perfect storms.  Luke 8:22-25 tells us of a physical storm he calmed and amazed his disciples.  He was able with his command to stop the gale winds and waves to bring complete calm.  Had my ex husband and I not allowed our relationships with God to wane so drastically I fully believe our marriage would have been able to survive the storm. We would have turned to the one that calmed storms and asked for his assistance.  Would our marriage have suffered damage?  Most likely. Would it have been repairable? Again most likely.  Would we have been devastation?  I believe not.  You see God makes the two one flesh.  He is the joiner, the molder, the ultimate glue to keep us together.  Without God in the marriage we were susceptible to the storm.

Scripture tells us in the same Ecclesiastes passage that a three cord braid is not easily broken. At our wedding we had forgotten to purchase the large candle for our unity candle lighting.  We chose, rather than try to find one the night before, to use one offered by the church from their supply closet.  It was the Christ candle from the previous Advent Season.   How truly appropriate was that?  At the time we married our unity candle represented that three braid cord with Christ!  When God is at the center of a marriage,  it is a strong three cord braid. Husband and wife work with Him and each other to be strongly supported.  Fast forward 24 years and my ex husband and I had pushed out the third cord in our marriage braid.  We were no longer strong.  Once the perfect storm started hitting we even stopped standing back to back to fight together.  We had allowed our selves to become two singles trying to fight.  Just as scripture states we were easily overcome.  The braid completely unraveled and we were bowled over by the perfect storm.  Separately we each came back to God.  I developed an even closer relationship with Him.  Unfortunately, it was too late to salvage the marriage shattered in the perfect storm.  

So I find myself filing for divorce. This most certainly was never what I had planned on doing. I was 26 years into a marriage that had its share of problems.  It also included some very good times. I do believe we were in love, but unfortunately we completely lost sight of that. It had happened before, but we were able to work our way through the issues to a degree that prevented divorce from being considered. We were able to find a way back to one another and that love. This time was different. This time there was a deeper more prolonged betrayal. The affairs started out as emotional. There was more than one concurrently. They went on for years not weeks.  The irony is he was not able to be true any of the women with whom he had relationships.  His online relationships knew of me, but not each other.  I did not know of them.  I do not know how he met the one chose to live with nor how he decided to take this one further than the others. I never really asked to honest.  I think the multiple and prolonged betrayal is what stung the most during the discovery phase, the searching for answers. It hurt deeply to realize he had been looking for someone on dating sites for nearly 2 years. It also hurt that he had been talking with his chosen one for less than 6 months when I discovered the affair.  He was leaving 26 yrs of marriage for a less than 6 month relationship.  In a way it was what also what made it easier to file for divorce. The betrayal was so lengthy, so deep, separation was only answer.   I admit that shortly after filing, I did question is that really what God wants? Did I jump the gun divorcing instead of just a legal separation?  I believe in my situation divorce was necessary. His moving to live with her was Biblical grounds, if you will, for divorce.  Is it what God really wanted to happen? No. We took vows including until death do us part and lived under the pronouncement let no man put asunder. God respected and was committed to those vows.  I fully committed to those vows and spoke them to God as much as to my ex husband. I think initially my ex husband did too. He just wasn’t able to keep his part of the promise.

Let me say here that if you are in a bad marriage, divorce may not be your answer.  Yes, I believe it was the answer for me in my situation.  If my ex husband had changed his mind before leaving the country, I most likely would have tried to work out our situation.  Great changes would have been necessary on both sides.  It would have required deep soul and spiritual work separate and together.  Counseling would have been paramount.  I do not know if that would have worked for us at that time.  Part of me believes it would not have, given our history and choices my ex has made since the divorce.  I would have at least tried.  In reality, it just did not happen that way.  In reality he made his choices without turning back nor wanting to reconcile.  In my situation I felt God was leading me to this path.  In your situation, you need to pray and do what God is prompting for you.  Reconciliation is not easy.  Divorce is not easy. Either choice will bring an uphill battle and require time for deep healings to be completed.  Trust is difficult to rebuild, but it can be done with God’s help.  The answer to which is right for you is another question.  Which answer is God directing you to choose?  

If you find yourself in a divorce situation I want to prepare you for some things that will occur.  I have a wonderful friend who unfortunately had gone through this and cautioned me on what I am about to tell you.  She was not a Christian when she married, but  she became a Christian before she was divorced. She reminded me that when a wedding happens or a marriage ends, it is not just the legal transaction the papers indicate.  There is a huge spiritual aspect to the joining of two people.  Scripture in Genesis 2:24 tells us that God as he did in the Garden of Eden, will join the man and woman together and the two will become one flesh. This is not just a mere physical aspect, but a spiritual joining. There are wedding vows, solemn promises of faith and fidelity. At a wedding the two are made one with these vows.  The two are to act as one.  Supporting, living, and working together for common goals and purposes.  The vows I took included a warning of sorts—”what God had placed together let no man put asunder”.   Asunder is not a word we use regularly today meaning to separate apart. It is not simply to cut ties (legal contracts), but to place apart from each other.  The one made of the two is pulled in two and placed apart.  My husband and I were put asunder.  We were pulled in two by divorce and placed apart.  I had no husband.  He had no wife.  We no longer lived and worked as one.

The day I signed my divorce papers was beyond difficult.  He had signed them a couple of days earlier—before he boarded a plane headed to another country.  I saw his signatures, while sitting in a conference room by myself after the legal aid gave me the file and instructions,  My heart was so heavy.  I realized I was giving my consent for the union to be put asunder. It was not what I had ever envisioned nor what I ever thought I would do. Even though our past difficulties, I never truly considered this.  I had been committed, yet I found myself sitting at a conference table with the documents containing our names and his signatures.  With tears I worked hard to swallow, I picked up the blue ink pen, signed my name, and officially relinquished my commitment.  It was the needed action at the time.  It was devastating. I called my friend who did all she could to support me.

There was another difficult day about a month later.  The day the judge signed the forms  we had already signed and I received them.  Opening that email and seeing all of the signatures was a complete punch to the solar plexus. I literally bent over as if struck. The tears flowed yet again.  We were now officially put asunder. My other half, although physically removed for many weeks, was now spiritually removed.  I was not completely prepared for that. I was prepared for an emotional reaction, but was not prepared for the spiritual.  I felt literally torn. I was bereft again.  I emailed him copies with the single line, “I did not believe my heart could be broken any more than it was.  I was wrong.”  That was truly how I was feeling.  He did not answer.  I had a new understanding of King David in Psalms singing that tears were his food night and day (Psalm 42:3).  

That time was a very difficult part of the journey for me.  There were no quick resolutions nor easy fixes for my pain and grief.  I learned grief is a process journey.  One I am still on today over 2 years later.  Working through that process and I realized several more truths about God and my marriage.  I believe God was with us and shared in our love and joy at the wedding.  I do believe He put us together and was pleased with our commitment.  He also shared in the heartbreak and grief of the events that let to and the completion of our divorce.  Yes, I think He fully knew of the choices that would be made. He is omniscient and knew where we would end.  God gave us the ability to make choices—good and bad.  It is part of our free will. We make the choices and reap the consequences and rewards of those choices accordingly.  He knew on the wedding day that we would be put asunder.  He also knew we would have the love, laughter, beautiful daughter, good works together, and all the other good things that resulted of our marriage.  I have needed to work on my responses to all that has occurred. I have had to deal with my anger, shame, hurt, betrayal, depression, and other wide assortment of response. I have tried to keep my choices in accordance to what God would have. Ultimately, the rewards we reap are those provided when we choose follow Him. It has not been natural, easy, nor always pleasant. At times I wanted to rage, I had to choose to give. At times I wanted to lash out, I had to choose to let go. It is easier now than it was 18 months ago. It is easier now than it was a year ago. It will be easier 6 months from now. I am still on the journey. I have faith that He does know my future.  I have faith that He holds my future whatever it may contain.  I have faith that He will guide me though that future with rewards as I ask Him to guide my choices.  Time will reveal where He has led me in another 26 years. I am confident He will be with me each step of the way.   

“And because we are his children, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, prompting us to call out, ‘Abba Father.’”  Galatians 4:6

“….He is a beloved brother and faithful helper in the Lord’s work.”  Ephesians 6: 21 NLT

So I find myself divorced, just turning 50, and feeling like I was about to lose my mind.  My ex husband was now returning to the area and contacting me more frequently.  He wanted a possible reconciliation and some assistance.  My daughter quit her job due to having her own mental health concerns related to all that had happened.  I was keeping my head above water financially, but helping my daughter was placing a strain on that.  I was ineffectual at work and was lagging behind in paperwork.  Unseen to most, I was drowning in an invisible emotional quagmire. The divorce and my ex husband were consuming my thoughts.  It was a constant in all I did. Every text alert caused near heart stopping anxiety because it might be him. I would try to carry on conversations, but every story I told somehow was related to the last 27 years of experiences with him. I would break down and cry in my office. I had a few moments each morning just as I woke to be at peace.  Those few moments between sleep and fully waking to sigh and say thank you God. Then BLAM it hit—my husband left.  I am divorced. I am alone in this house. My grief came in like a flood.  I tried to be so strong.  To hold back the deluge of tears and fears each and every day.  It was taking a huge toll on me.  

I did have support.  I do to want to discount those that rallied around me.  My sister, my niece, and my friends were terrifically supportive.  In their support they agreed with me on nearly everything.  They did not challenge me.  Neither could I tell them everything I needed to process.  I needed more.  The church I was attending at the time was not as supportive.  To be fair and honest, I did not really reach out to those at that church. I attended with one of my dear friends and her husband, but it was a 40 minute drive one way to get there from my home.  It was well over an hour from my work site, so I did not become very involved with anything except Sunday morning.   In some ways I liked it that way.  It was the one place I could go and just be me.  I was not the woman going through all the grief and loss of death and divorce.  I could come in praise God, give my tithe, hear a good sermon, speak with a few people and go home.  I had a couple of hours each week that my life did not invade.  It was good, but I needed more.  I chose to seek a private counselor.  

I have never been counselor hunting, shopping, seeking, or whatever it is called.  Being a professional, intelligent person, I looked on the internet.   At least I did not go to Craig’s List! On a psychology website, I found several women counselors that appeared to be what I wanted.  I made a list, but was hesitant to call anyone.  Over the next week or so, I kept looking on the site and one kept popping into my attention.  It was a guy.  Really God a guy?  Really?  I called the women counselors I had found.  None had appointments or had major insurance issues.  None of the other women counselors on the web site seemed to be a fit for me.  I admit, I was going to have difficulty being counseled by a woman 20 yrs my junior. Okay, fine God, a guy.  I called and he was available in a reasonable time frame and would work with my insurance.  Of course he was!—Really God a guy?   Looking back now I see that I had more than ample female support going through this.  Some were even professional counselors.  What I did not have was male support.  I did not have close male friends which had been on purpose while I was married.  God did know what I needed.  I showed up to the first appointment unsure of what to expect.  Of course there are the several pages of information in addition to insurance forms to complete.  The psychologist looked like he did on line.  He  was kind and soft spoken and just suggested I start at the beginning.  If I had the ability to raise one of my eyebrows, I would have.  Which beginning?  The loss of my sister?   The anger at God and crisis of faith?    The empty nest?  The loss of a father in law? The collapse of my marriage?   I unloaded a fairly skimming overview of the previous 3 years in just over an hour.  Here is what I wrote in my journal after that first visit.  

“I started therapy with Dr.___ . You know how some things get worse before they get better?  Well, that may happen with therapy.   I fell apart.  Just to have Dr.___  validate the severity of my stress and say “I don’t know how you are functioning.  You are an extremely strong person” was enough to start my tumble.  My friends and family had said as much, but I always felt as if they were supposed to say that.  He did not know me.  He was a professional. Yet he sits echoing what others have said.  I was relieved that I did not have to be so strong anymore.  I did have too much to manage……”

Validation. Affirmation.  Recognition.  I had absolutely no idea how freeing those could be.  For someone to come along side and say “Sit down a while and tell me…..”  To be able to not just unload, but unpack.   Unpack I did after an initial unloading.  I unpacked one item at at time over the next 2 1/2 years.  Yes it took quite a while. I took the time to consider what each item was. (Was my view distorted or thinking faulty?)   Consider if it was really mine (Was it put upon me by someone/something else or was it my own internal struggle/unrealistic expectations?). To review where it came from (my Dad, my Mom, my insecurity, other traumas, my ex husband, etc).  To re-evaluate if I needed or even wanted to keep it in my life.  Some things needed to be let go and others cleaned up to be seen as they really were.  Still others just need tossed out completely.  Some things required repeat reviews with a magnifier to get to roots.  Then came the big lessons—to learn how to deal with my emotional response and possible attachment to it.  Only after doing this could I finally put it were it needed be placed—Back in the suitcase to go with me, returned to the person it belonged to, or sometimes watch it dissolve as the misconception/falsehood it was.   How healing to be able to do this with the careful, impartial observations and assistance from someone who although  cared and wanted the best for me was not emotionally attached to me.  As weird as that sounds it is true.  That is the heart of a therapeutic relationship.  Dr. ___ did care and worked with me to help me overcome obstacles and grief, but he was not nor would he ever be my best friend. I know very little about him as it should be for the relationship to work. Sessions were pretty standard. I pick the topic—most of the time I prayed for God to guide the session on what He wanted me to work on.  It may have be something I have mulled  over since the last session.  Perhaps it was a memory or conversation that kept coming to mind over the days prior to the appointment. Sometimes it would be something quite unexpected that I did not realize was an issue.  In the beginning  it was usually something that happened with my ex husband that week— Often my attempts to try to understand him and his behaviors.  Sometimes the grief of losing my sister or mother and dealing with changes in family dynamics both brought.  Hopes, dreams, fears, sorrow, grief, family, friends, worries, anger, frustrations, were all discussed.  At the end of each session Dr. ___ prayed with me and summarized my current situation so well before our God.  Dr. ___ ’s assistance was and still is so very valuable to me.  I still had that wonderful family and terrific friends to support me, but this was so needed. 

The work between counseling sessions was left to me.  I do admit I really did want to be healed.  To be well.  To not be bitter. Part of work of healing was what I did between the counseling sessions.  I prayed, cried, yelled, beat up a few pillows, talked with my friends and family, and read scriptures and books on divorce, loss, and healing.   I cried out to God more times than I can count after discovering the betrayal.  I firmly believe God speaks to us.  I believe he answers us when we seek him.  He uses different methods at times depending on the relationship and what we need.  He desires a real relationship with his children, which does require two way communication.  I believe God spoke to me daily going through this healing season.  It was a song on the radio, as scripture in a devotional, a sermon/teaching I had not heard before, the sweet words and phone call from my sister or a friend……and the list goes on.  Often it is a that gentle whisper voice  deep in my heart that Elijah described (1Kings 19:12).  That is not to say God cannot and most certainly does not use counselors. I heard a story about a little girl that was afraid of a storm during the night.   She kept running from her bed to her dad.  He would reassure her and take her back to bed telling her God was with her.  The final time she ran to her dad,  he, quite tired and frustrated, asked, “Didn’t I tell you God was with you?”   The little girl said “Yes, you did.  I know he is, but I would like someone with skin on them!”  Counselors are professionals with “skin on them”.   They come along with skills to listen and guide.  If you are in a grief situation that you just cannot get through, I truly encourage you to seek a reputable Christian counselor.  They can be that “faithful helper in the Lord’s work” in your life.  

“If you forgive those who sin against you, your heavenly Father will forgive you.  but if you refuse to forgive others, your Father will not forgive your sins.” Matt 6:4-15 NLT

“But when you are praying, first forgiven anyone you are holding a grudge against, so that your Father in heaven will forgive your sins too.”  Mark 11:25 NLTi

“ Get rid of all bitterness, rage, anger, harsh words, and lander, as well as all typed of evil behavior.  Instead be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another just as God through Christ has forgiven you.”  Ephesians 4: 31-32

“….Watch out that no poisonous root of bitterness grows up to trouble you, corrupting many.”  Hebrews 12: 15

Forgiveness.  Not something found among all of the emotions rolling inside me after I discovered the affair.  It did not come to mind as we wrote the divorce agreement.  It was not a consideration as we liquidated shared assets, collected over 27 years.  It was not something I could even begin to muster in my thoughts of my ex husband as he flew to another country to be with another woman.  I was furiously angry. I was deeply hurt. I was alternating numb and raw.   I was so many things. Forgiving was not one of them.  I knew the above scriptures.  I had heard the sermons. I had even taught the lessons.  I was not able to consider forgiveness.  The pain was too great.  The insult to massive.  The rejection too complete.  Forgiveness was not possible for me. 

When we went through the first emotional affairs, in counseling, I learned a new definition of forgiveness.  I learned that when I chose to forgive someone, I am not giving a stamp of approval on their actions.  I am not saying I am “okay” with what they did nor how it occurred. Forgiving is not a sugar coating to be spread over foul smelling debris.  Forgiving is a choice.  It is choosing to let go of the desire for revenge.  It is choosing to not seek vigilante justice.  It is choosing to no longer let that person have control over you.  It is choosing to no longer have to replay events and conversations in your head day and night.  It is choosing to let peace replace anger.  It is choosing to let healing begin in the hurt places.  It is choosing to let God determine the outcome for the offending person.  

I heard one woman who had been hurt and abused more than I can begin to imagine describe the process of forgiveness  as pleading your case before the judge.  The difference is this judge is the perfect judge—The judge that meets out the absolutely best judgement.  As the plaintiffs we are only responsible to plead our case.  We can cry out, telling this judge every sordid detail of every hurtful event knowing he will listen without judging us. After pleading our case, we are to walk out of the courtroom, leaving the verdict details and sentencing process to the judge.  It becomes his offense to manage and correct. We no longer in our unforgiving, powerless status need to continue vainly to convict, sentence, nor impose judgement on the person who hurt us. We walk away free. We are free of the burden of unforgiveness. With that new found freedom comes a new duty. We are not to accuse the person again in any court—be that the hair salon, church social, or family reunion.  We are not to attempt to meet out judgement in any other forms be it verbal maligning or intentional actions against that person.  We have left those decisions in the courtroom to our perfect judge.  We walk away free of the burden of carrying the heavy load of unforgiveness.  We walk into the lightness of living in forgiveness.

What I learned during this hurtful situation is what forgiveness does not have to include. It is not an automatic reconciliation.  Remember as a child when Johnny hit Susie or Susie pulled Johnny’s hair? I was taught to “say you’re sorry”, hug, and go play again. We tell kids to forgive and then go play together. I had the distinct impression that forgiveness equated reconciliation. Sometimes the relationship, like mine, may be so broken it is not possible to reconcile.  It may not even healthy to restore that relationship if the person is not willing to change or even see his/her errors.  The other person does not have to accept the forgiveness. This may be the situation if the offender does not see what he/she did that was so hurtful.  This is also true if the offender is no longer alive. We are not responsible for his/her reaction or further actions.  We are responsible to forgive.  Period.  Once we do our part we are leaving  the rest to God to determine what happens with the other person.  Nope, it is not easy.  This is certainly not the first instinctual reaction to offense.  I assuredly did not find it easy to forgive and continue walking in forgiveness.  I definitely did not react that way initially.  This is learned, practiced, and sometimes renewed daily.

Why is forgiveness such an imperative? Why was it so important that God even associates our forgiving with His forgiving us?  I believe the answer to that is the root of bitterness spoken of in Hebrews.  Unforgiveness is a heavy burden. A pressure we were never intended to endure.  The constant reliving events and feeling those same hurts over and over again causes excess wear on our souls.  In the body anytime there is pressure or wear a tissue thickening or callus can form.  A hardening if you will of the tissues that can cause a rock like formation that produces additional discomfort.    Once a callus reaches this point it is so much more difficult to remedy.  In the foot, it produces  pain with walking and actually changes the way we walk.  This can influence balance, alignment of the knee and hip joints and the pelvis, producing wear and long term damage.  Hard calluses can definitely influence our mood and how we relate to others due to the pain.  It can make walking so difficult we do not want to do it. The hard callus requires deeper mechanical removal and takes longer to heal.  If not dealt with properly, these can even return and the cycle begins again.  My dear father-in-law had such terrible foot calluses he would be a complete grump and walk at a near hobble for short distances before his next appointment with the podiatrist. The treatment was often painful with callus whittling and hard center removal. After a few days of healing Pop would be back to his usual jovial self ready to go and work. Only a few weeks later he would be in the same impaired mobility status with a definite mood swing. It was an unending cycle that would have been so much different had he taken care of the callus situation decades ago when it was new. If he had taken the appropriate measures to correct his foot problems when they started the cycle he ended his life with would have never started.

Carrying unforgiveness causes  a callus on our souls.  If that pressure is not relieved when it is new, it can produce the hard center of bitterness within our souls. Once our souls become callused it effects our relationships with others—spouses, children, coworkers, and even God.  The bitterness can overshadow all we do and become.  It can keep us from moving forward emotionally and in the plans God has for us.  How many Hallmark movies are based cranky, bitter, old people and the havoc that bitterness has wreaked on their and others’ lives?  Even “A Christmas Carole” by Dickens was based on a man that once was hurt and allowed such a callus to harden his soul that he nearly lost out on life completely.   His bitterness negatively impacted everyone around him to the point of being left completely alone. The harsh sting of his bitterness was felt by all those he foreclosed upon, his employee, and his family. Bitterness is an invasive root that when planted will grow at exponential proportions.  There will not be a choice nor action that it does not influence if left untreated.  

The scriptures in Matthew and Mark gospels are not saying that God does not want to forgive us.  No, God does want to forgiven and gave his Son to make that possible. What God does not want, is for us to even begin to allow this root of bitterness build up,n separating us from him and all the wonderful possibilities he has for us.  By forgiving we eliminate the risk of that soul hardening.  By forgiving we stay soft allowing  God to heal our hurts and damages.  We give up holding on to a burden too heavy and costly to carry.  Forgiveness does not have nearly as much to do with the person we are forgiving as it does with us.  It is not for the offender’s benefit. Forgivenesss is for our benefit.  

As weeks became months, I prayed fervently.  I knew my ex husband and I were not destine to reunite.  Too much had happened for me to ever be able to trust him without a great deal of change on his part.  I prayed for healing for us all.  I prayed for his return to Christ in a real way.  I prayed to be able to carry on in this new path I was traveling.  In September I received an email from him saying how very sorry he was for all he had done to me and our daughter.  He realized he had made great mistakes and believed lies about his middle aged life.  He informed me had not had any peace since he left.  He apologized for all he had done and asked for my forgiveness.   I was shocked.  Is this not what I had wanted and in a way prayed for? Being the mature Christian I was, I told him I could not forgive him.  I was not ready to let his guilty verdict and sentencing to go to the judge.  I still wanted the revenge.  I wanted to hold the hangman’s noose.  I just did not realize that noose was around my neck and not my ex-husbands. 

A few more weeks passed and I was the one without peace.  Fortunately, God would not leave me alone about the forgiveness.  It seemed every sermon, scripture, and radio song I heard had something to do with forgiveness.  I knew I needed to forgive.  As I said I had taught the lessons.  I just did not WANT to let go.  I still wanted to meet out the punishment that I was powerless to wield. I wanted to hold on to something that was absolutely futile. It does not make much sense when stated like that does it? I began to think about the bitterness.  I have seen so many bitter people in my line of work and personal life.  I knew I had to forgive if I did not want to become engulfed in a bitter life.  A life that would affect my daughter and all those around me.   I also wanted to be free of my ex-husband. I wanted to be free of thinking of what he was doing or if he was happy. The unforgiveness kept him in the forefront of my mind. I was constantly considering where he was and doing and comparing it to where I was and doing. I was vainly hoping he was unhappy and miserable. My thoughts had absolutely no influence on him. They did have every influence on me. I was unhappy and miserable.

If forgiveness is a choice, why could I not choose it?  Why could I not let go and let my perfect judge make the rulings according to His perfect plans?  All I had to do was say the words.  Tired of suffering the misery that I wanted for him, I began to change my course. I prayed and asked God to forgive me for my harboring the unforgiveness. I then put my forgiveness into action–  I emailed my ex husband and told him I forgave him.  I told him I no longer held him responsible for the effect his actions had upon me.  I wish I could say it was some mystical experience and I had some holy amnesia regarding all the events and hurts of the previous months and even years of our marriage.   Hardly.  I still could remember it all. What did happen was the beginning of a process that I am still working on over two years later.  Forgiveness and healing. Yes, I had to deal with my emotions and process those through positive methods and multiple counseling sessions. Yes, there are a still times thoughts come to mind, conversations try to replay, and anger will flair. I have to remind myself I am not dwelling there.  I can visit and deal with my emotional response, but I do not own that real estate any longer.  I am not staying. I left that title and deed in the court room with the perfect Judge. Yes I have been back to the Judge several times when dealing with arising hurts.  There have been a few new hurts along the way as I found out more.  There has also been some hurts too large to heal at once.  The process has taken time, prayer, trusting God, and therapy sessions.  I have had people say they are amazed I am not bitter with this whole unjust situation.  I tell them it was too high a price to pay, so  I chose not to pay.  

“Then King David went in and sat before the Lord and prayed, ‘Who am I , O Sovereign Lord, and what is my family, that you have brought me this far?'” 1Chronicles 17:16 NLT

“Then Peter called to him ‘Lord, if it’s really you, tell me to come to you, walking on the water’. ‘Yes, Come.’ Jesus said. Matthew 14:28-29 NLT

“‘For I know the plans I have for you’, says the Lord. ‘They are plans for good not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.'” Jeremiah 29:11 NLT

Who am I?  I remember who I was before.  Who I was before the pain….Before the loss…..Before all of the changes large and small.  I was a young woman seeking to be a difference maker.  I was student ready to study and learn  to teach others.  I was a God seeking Christian for all areas of my life.  I was a daughter hoping to make her parents proud.  I was a sister who loved her sisters so very much.  I was the crazy, fun aunt who played in the floor.   I was a wife who loved her husband and wanted to be a partner.  I was a mother with a beautiful child to love and raise.  I was a professional on the rise in my career.  I was….Was is past tense. Was is previous.  Was is behind me.  

They say the only constant is change.  I have see so much change in the last few years.  Gone is the young woman who became a mature woman with the scars that accompany living.  Gone are the proud parents to their eternal rewards.  Gone is a sister who fought a battle with cancer with more grace than I could imagine.   Gone are the playtimes on the floor, outgrown in time and distance.  Gone is the husband who chose a very different path.  Gone is the beautiful child, as she  transformed into a lovely adult woman I am so proud of raising.  Gone is the luster of a career that once was my pride, leaving me less fulfilled.  All of these were huge parts of my life and how I identified myself.  All changed and some even removed from what and where they were in my life and plan.  All unstable anchors I held so dear.   All changed at the whims of circumstance called death, divorce, and time.   

It leaves me asking who am I now? For the first time in my life I do not have a definite answer. My career is no longer who I am, but what I do. I am a mother, but the role is now more of a friend and counselor to a lovely woman. I am a sister to a loving sister, but she does not need taken care of like my mother and father in law did. Where is my real identity? Who am I? That is a big question in three little words. I never thought I would have an identity crisis…. Yet here it is. This has been quite difficult to work through in the last two years. It seems I have always had a title that defined who I am. I have always had a role to fulfill, with constructs defining me. I find myself without definitions. This is new and makes me feel afloat without a definite direction.

Perhaps I have been taking distorted view. Letting the past define may future. Perhaps instead of looking to who I was and the roles that ended, I need to I begin considering who do I want to be? Who do I want to become? Ironically, I am not fully sure of that either. It is easier to say who I do not want to be. I do not want to be the bitter old woman. I do not want to be the crazy cat lady, living alone with a dozen cats. (I do like cats and have one.) I do not want to live my life solely for others’ approvals. I do not want to be my career. I do not want the last few years to be my final definition.

I am finding there are some things I do want. I do still want to be a difference maker, small or large. I do still want some adventure. I do still want to create and enjoy the process. I do still want to be in some sort of ministry. I do still want to learn and then to teach. I am beginning to realize this could be a very exciting time in my life. A time when without a label I can choose some new paths. I can make some changes. As exciting as that sounds it is also scary. New ventures and adventures often are scary. The unknown is scary. I can relate to Peter stepping out of the boat. It took faith and a lot of trust to put those feet on the water. I am sure it was scary on the water with the waves.

Like Peter I have to believe God will be there when I step into the path. He has been my stronghold in all of the changes and transitions in recent years.  God, He is the one constant in my past, present, and future.  Even when I was not sure He was there, He had me in His hands.  Even when I was so angry at Him for letting these things happen, He did not leave.  Even when the pain was so great I could not see Him, He was holding me. Even when I was sure I wanted everything to just stop, He was providing strength for one more day.  He is here still.  He will be where ever the path leads.  He is Alpha and Omega.  He is my beginning and my end.  He is the one with the best plan. Yes, the best. I can make plans, but His will bring the best results for me. He is the one providing my hope and my future. He is my protector.  He is my healer.  He is my restorer.  He is my supplier.  He is my strength.  He is my peace.  He is my King. He is my Savior.  He is …..  Because He is I believe I can be.  I can be who He has created and called me to be even if I do not see it all mapped out right now. My life can become all that He has planned even if there are waves. In His perfect timing I can walk on those waves like Peter.   I have to trust him and take those scary steps to get out of the boat. I must keep my eyes on Him be it dirt path or sea waves. I believe He does have a plan. I may not see it all right now.  I may not even fully believe it all right now.  I don’t have to yet, because I believe in the One that made the heavens and the earth.  I believe  He can bring more to pass than I could ever imagine or even hope to be true.  I believe He can.  I believe He will.  I believe I am His child–  That is who I am.  

They say hindsight is always 20/20. I found the view is often seen more accurately with the camera.   Cameras are awesome little technological marvels. They allow you to capture a moment. Capture a memory.  Freeze the good and the bad for reviewing, remembering later.  With the surge of the smart phone, photos capture everything from the dinner plate last night to the absolutely cute kids.  Those photos are so personal.  They provide insight to the person.  What occurred in our lives that was worthy of a photo?  What moments did we chosen to capture? What silly antics were we participating in?  What sight inspired us?  What did we find beautiful or rediculous? All can be answered by our photos. They tell who we love; what is important to us. The photos we collect paint a very intimate picture of our lives.  Do not believe it?  How often to you get a little nervous when someone scrolls in your phone photos?  Yeah, me too.  

After the divorce I was left with so many photos.  I was cleaning out our mutual home and found more than I ever imagined.  We were click happy well before the digital age made it so easy.  There were tons of negatives and printed photos in every drawer and closet door I opened.  I boxed most up as it was too painful after losing my sister and my marriage to look at photos of them.  It took a while after I moved to have the courage to do that.  I finally was tired of the excess boxes and needed to organize.  I spent a couple of weekends going through each and every photo.  Going through those memories was quite difficult.  It was my life, my marriage in frozen moments.  Interspersed in the weekends were moments of laughter ….recalling the fun….the trips….the happy times.  There was a flood of tears… some happy and some full of grief.  It was a good experience.  Seeing that we did have good.  There was fun.  There was love.  It got messed up along the way, but it was there at one time.  

I moved on from the printed photos to those that were on my phone.  They were the most telling.  I had purchased a new phone just prior to my sister getting sick. I was able to review hundreds of frozen moments from the time period my marriage was falling apart.  In those photos was a story I had not really read before.  It was a story of separation.  It hit me hardest as I realized that my  ex-husband was not in most of the photos. I had not realized how many times I took pictures and he was not in them.  I began to wonder why.  It wasn’t because he wasn’t important to me. It wasn’t because I didn’t want him in them.  Recalling the events, I began to understand  he chose to not participate in the events where the photos were taken.  He was simply absent.  He was in the photos of the big holidays and events. He was in the photos of the obligatory family holiday dinners. The niece and nephew birthday parties. The anniversary dinners. It was in all of the day to day, catch the moment times, that he was absent.  I had no idea how very absent he had became from such a huge portion of my life.  

It was truly that he was not present.  He did not participate.  If he did participate he would drive separately and leave early.  If we hosted he sat in a corner playing games on his phone.  I am ashamed to say I didn’t realize how far he was withdrawing from my life.  He was often disgruntled to downright angry at the events and it was so much easier to let him leave, or not attend at all.  It was easier to make excuses to nieces and nephews why he skipped their birthdays than it was to put up with his attitude and rantings at the function or on the way home.   His withdrawal progressed to where he even missed the big events—A favorite nephew’s high school graduation…. a birthday celebration for my mother…. Things he would have never missed before.  He chose to not be part of our lives anymore.  What I did not realize is that he could not wait to get home or for me to leave. Once alone he could engage in his on line activities. That is what became important to him.  It is what consumed him.

One may ask how I could not know what he was doing.  I admit to having a bit of a Scarlet O’Hara attitude here….I chose to think about it later.  I was still devastated from the death of my sister.  I was wrapped up in caring for my elderly, ill mother and father in law.  I was planning high school graduations parties and funerals.  I was trying to keep it together at work while shopping for dorm room furniture.  There was just so much change and grief going on in our lives.  I do recall looking on his computer finding a couple of red flags.  A new email account and history of scrolling through a personal ad site showed up.  Each was explained away with excess spam on the old email and curiosity at the personals.  I chose to let those red flags go.  I did not have the energy to confront his resurgence of online activities.  I knew what it would take, and I just did not have it in me at the time.  As I said in other posts, we had been on this road before.  There were other instances of his online “friendships” and other activities.  I had been the one to uncover the activities and deceit.  I was the one to push us to confront the issues while seeking help.  I was the strong one before.  I was not strong this time.  

Does this Scarlet O’Hara attitude make me responsible?  Perhaps in a way.  I am responsible for my actions and lack of action, but not his.  I am responsible for my believing there would be time once everything else settled.  I am responsible for wanting him to independently make the right choices.  I am responsible for wanting a partner—a partner who could be strong when I was not.  I am responsible for wanting him to choose me this time.  Unfortunately, I ran out of time and he did not do nor become any of the things that I wanted.  Ultimately, he chose someone else.  

My photo’s became reality.  He became absent from my life.  

Working in the medical field I have worked with more wounds than I can count.  Surgical wounds and accidental lacerations,  sewn, stapled, and glued up in nice tight lines that heal well and leave linear scarring.  I have seen pressure wounds so deep it is amazing that they ever heal. The ones I encountered that are the worst are the burns.  The larger and deeper the burn the worse it is to manage and heal.  They are the ones that completely remove just enough tissue to leave all of the nerve endings exposed and damaged.  Raw.  The word even sounds like a growl of pain.  That pain is excruciating.   Pain meds are nearly useless for those types of extensive injuries.  With the wound comes new potential problems. Protection and normal defenses  are gone with the lost skin.  The wound is prime for entry of any infective microbe.  Infections complicate and delay the healing process. Some infections and their outcomes are far worse than others. The wounds need antibacterial barriers  and cover dressings placed  to restore protection and promote healing.   They require dressing change, after painful dressing change to continue infection prevent.  Each dressing change exposes the raw wound to the elements causing more pain.  Yes,  these are the most painful wounds I have encountered.   

Raw—That is what I was after discovering my ex-husbands duplicitous life style. Everything that I believed in and about him and even us was suddenly stripped off.   My life as I thought it existed melted away.   My heart was left raw with every nerve pulsing in pain.  I literally felt flayed.   

There is a tiny window in a severe wound case where the nerve damage is so great the brain and nerves become for a lack of a better term confused and decides to shut down the acknowledgement of the pain.  Add to that some hefty doses of adrenaline and the excruciating pain does not register for just a very short period of time.   A sort of numbness allows the body to continue to function in a flight or fight response. 

I was severely injured and  hit that gracious numb window of time.  It was during that brief interval I knew I had to protect myself kicking in my fight/flight responses.  I discovered  there was only  $100 in each checking and savings account.  I called in at work and my supervisor was very sympathetic and gave me time off.  I went through bank statements trying to make sense of the finances and actually visited the banks.  The checking account was such a mess I didn’t want to touch it. I found myself in a pawn shop selling a couple of jewelry pieces for gas and grocery money to get through the week.  (Ironically, even here I discovered some of what I thought was “real” from my husband was imitation.)  I was able to go open a bank account in my name only with the $50 minimum requirement. I moved all of his things out of the ensuite master bedroom and into the guest bedroom/bath.  (Yes, he refused to leave the house for two weeks after the affair discovery. )  Then the gracious deep numb period was over.  I was left back in my emotional state wracked with pain.  I needed the bandages and medicine.  

I do not know what I would have done without the love and support of my friends and family. There were constant calls and text messages to provide love and support.  I spent a lot of time with my daughter, sister, niece and friends.  All were balms and soothing salves for my raw heart.   At the same time I was dealing with more anger than I ever felt in my life.  This was new as I am not typically an angry person. I was angry at my ex husband for ALL  he had done.  The cheating, the lying, the financial irresponsibility, the hurting of our daughter……the list went on as I discovered additional duplicity.  I wanted nothing more than to strike out and hurt him the way he had hurt me. I wanted to rail against him and emotionally cut him as he had cut me.   Living in the same house and having so much of the finance and  business of marriage in existence, we did have to interact.  I took my verbal pound of flesh as often as I could.  He deserved every bit of it did he not?  I planned on making the divorce as painful for him as possible. 

God really began to deal  with me at that time.  He kept telling me not to fight. The scripture kept coming to my mind out of Paul’s teaching.  1Corinthians 5:4-5   “…in the name of the Lord Jesus you must call a meeting of the church.  I will be present with you in the spirit and so will the power of our Lord Jesus.  Then you must throw this man out and hand him over to Satan, so that his sinful nature will be destroyed and he himself will be saved on the day the Lord returns.”   (NLT) Pauls was writing to a church facing and permitting a situation where a member was behaving beyond immorally. Paul instructed the church to let that person go.  It was not to be done in anger, but in “the power of our Lord Jesus” so that ultimately the person’s soul could be redeemed.   I fully believe the Lord was letting me know that I needed to let my husband go.  I was to do what Paul instructed the people of Corinth to do.  I was let my husband go to his sin and let God manage him, not me.  I would not be able to save my husband from his activities as I had tried to before.  This time God was going to have to do a greater work that was not going to directly involve me.  My marriage was truly over.  Divorce was going to happen.  I was to let my husband go. I was not supposed to fight him.  I was supposed to let him go.  Whew…. that was so not what I wanted to hear and nothing near what I wanted to do.   I was fine with the “throw him out” part, but the no fighting and letting God work parts were not on my to do list. 

This was another pivotal moment in my life.  God was asking me to trust Him yet again.  Trust Him with my anger. Trust Him with my pain. Trust him to deal with my soon to be ex husband.  That is a lot of trust.  That was not as easy as I want to say it was.  I had already told God I would given my husband up for Him. (See “Final Answer”) I never imagined this situation. Once again I had to reach way down in my core where I know who is God and who is not.  I had to decide who I was going to follow;  My hurt and anger joined by the bitterness that would infect me or the God who had loved and led me since childhood?  Which would it be? I had seen too many bitter people in my life to want the bitterness take hold.  I had seen God do so much in my life, but could I  really trust Him with and for this?   Looking over past moves of God in my life, I knew who would always have my best even when it appeared in complete opposition of what I wanted.  I knew who I trusted even with this situation.  It still was not easy.  It still hurt. It was what was right.  When I agreed to what God asked I had a sudden surge of peace.  That “peace that passes all understanding” is real.  I also came to realize if I wanted my husband to  live in God’s salvation I was going to have to let him go.  I had to face the fact that beneath all the anger and hurt,  I still had a love for him.  I did want him to live in salvation even without me.  

As soon as I told God I would let my husband go, thoughts starting surging  and formulated a  divorce settlement in my head.  I sat down and wrote out everything. I contacted my ex husband and scheduled to meet to discuss the divorce process.  A couple of days prior, I had met with an attorney and started the process of separation, but not the settlement.  I was amazed when my husband  came to meet me and agreed to absolutely everything in the settlement agreement I proposed.  I was fair. I did not try to take him for anything. Given the financial mess that existed, there was not a great deal to divide. He announced that he had made arrangements that day to move out by the weekend and give me some peace in the house.  God was already working.  I contacted my attorney and continued the proceedings for the divorce.  It was all so agreeable my husband did not hire a separate attorney.   There was no fighting.  It was not magical.  It was not easy.  I was still raw. I just was not infected by bitterness.  My wounds had bandages made of trusting God and love as protection against that bitterness infection.  God had provided peace to get me through.   That does not mean I did not still want to lash out in my pain and occasionally gave in to that.  I  am not Super Christian who does not given into my desires at times.  I certainly do not travel with angel choruses or a glowing halo.  The peace allowed me to make it through the sales and business of divorce. It allowed me to sleep at night. It allowed me to hold my hurtful words back way more than they slipped out.

My pain was not instantly relieved nor was I miraculously healed emotionally.   It would have been great if I had, but God is sovereign here. Once again I trust he is working it to my benefit. I do believe my obedience to just letting go did keep my pain from being worse.  If I had fought and bitterness set in, I would have experienced so much more pain.  So much more damage would have been done to me, my daughter,  and even my ex-husband.  The healing would have been delayed. The obedience was the first dressing change.  The most difficult and painful dressing change. There would be more dressing changes.  There would be more tears. There would be more pain as there is any any healing process.   This was also the beginnings of healing taking root just a matter of weeks after the devastation.  Healing that would eventually be completed in God’s perfect time.  

Routine day.  Nothing special.  Just trying to get home from another grocery store trip.  Cool early spring day with few buds poking through and the grass hinting at green again.  Singing with the CD as I enter my subdivision: 

“So take it away

My life!

My pride!

My heart!

It’s all yours now

Take it away

My fame!

My feet!

My family, my career

Take it away

Take it away

It’s all yours now

So take it away

Take it away

It’s you I wanna live for”

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Brandon Heath / Chris Stevens / Toby Mckeehan

Steal My Show lyrics © Essential Music Publishing, Capitol Christian Music Group

I had heard this song and sang along so many times.  This time the lyrics hit me hard.  Am I willing to give up all those things for God?  Whoa…That is really strong stuff…hard core…serious.  Could I give up all of those things if asked?  I like to think so,……but….. but…  Then I hear the question. The voice I know above all others speaking.  My Shepherd.   “Would you give up [your husband]?”   Wow, you were in on this thought session God?  I was sure it was just me and Toby wrestling with that thought.  I knew the question was real.  I knew I had to answer.  I had to reach way deep down.  Down to where roots grow.  Down to where I am basic.  Down to where I know Who is God and who isn’t.  I said “Yes, God if you asked me to I would give up [my husband].  I would not want to.  I hope you don’t ever ask that, but for you God, Yes I would”.   No thunder claps.  No lightening strikes.  No chorus of angels.  Yet this was a moment of monumental proportions in my life.  I arrived at home and started unloading groceries.  Back to the mundane of daily life. 

Looking back I am awed and humbled that God asked me. He asked me if I would given up the man I had loved for nearly 30 years.  God did not take the question nor my answer lightly either.  I thought of the conversation again in the next couple of weeks.  I admit to fearing something bad would happen to my husband.  Cancer, car wreck, crazy work accident—you know the thoughts.  I shoved them all out and convinced myself it was a test of my faith—yeah you know an Abraham moment without the hike and alter building.  The faith test was yet to come.  It happened two months later.  

A bit of back ground first….My husband and I had fallen into a coexistence.  Neither of us was making much effort to connect with the other.  It was as if we were roommates that slept back to back each night.  I knew we were in a bad relationship place, but just couldn’t seem to move;  to try to fix it as I had when we hit difficult patches before.  We had been hit with multiple tragedies and changes in a three year period ranging from the deaths of a sibling and father to becoming empty nesters, and  placing my mother in a nursing home after prolonged illness and recurrent hospitalizations.  We were both emotionally wounded and depleted.  Instead of coming together as we had in the past difficult times, we seemed to have drifted apart.  I didn’t understand why.  I knew I was tired.  In the past, I was always the strong one that held it together.  The one that prayed for God to lead and work us through the tough time.  The one that confronted problems and tried to find solutions. I was so emotionally exhausted this time.  I was barely hanging on myself and had no to strength to hold up another.   I did not believe my husband was attempting to fix us.  I was sure he was drifting along until I made the move.    I thought he was in the same emotional and depressed situation as I.  Unfortunately, I had no inkling as to how he was trying to fix the problem for himself.  I found out on Mother’s Day 2017.   

As our usual pattern on this holiday, we took my mother to her church from the nursing home.  My sister, her daughter, my husband, our daughter, Mother, and I filled a pew.  My husband was in a terrible mood.  He had been for weeks and it was worse with anything that had to do with me.  He obviously did not want to be with us that morning.  Looking back, I am not sure exactly why he went.  He didn’t even try to hide his mood from my sister and niece as he usually would.  We went to lunch and had the usual extraordinary wait for a table on the day no mother should have to cook.  It was late in the afternoon when we finished and my husband’s mood had deteriorated.  My daughter said she needed to run to the mall to pick up something to complete my gift and my husband was quick to choose to ride with her.  Mother wanted to return to the nursing home for her nap.  My sister, niece, and I took mother back, tucked her in, said our good byes, and I headed for home.  

I was the first to arrive and a bit later my husband walked in without our daughter. I could hear in his voice something was wrong—He was utterly dejected.  I inquired about where our daughter was and he said she “needed to go for a drive”.  He spoke to me from the kitchen, and was hesitant to come to where I was in the living room.  I kept asking what was wrong, and he finally came in to the living room.  He sat on the edge of his usual recliner.  He said “I need to tell you something and I don’t know how”.  I replied “It is usually best to just say it”.  He said the last thing I ever expected to hear “I want out.”  I couldn’t comprehend “You want out?”  He said “Yes, I can’t live like this anymore.”  Shock doesn’t begin to describe my response.  I knew our situation was bad and began to apologize for it being such.  I asked if he wanted to work on us as we had needed to in the past.  He said he didn’t want to.  When asked he admitted to having met someone online and wanted to be with her.  I found out later that he had made a huge mistake while texting the other woman and our daughter at the same time.  He had sent a text intended for the other woman to our daughter.  The text was quite obviously not intended for our daughter.  He then begged our daughter to not tell me.  She told him either he could tell me or she would.  He came into the house upset that he was discovered.    

Over the next few days I found, from his old abandoned computer, that my husband had been planning to just walk away.  He had purchased his plane ticket a month earlier and was making some prep to leave to go be with the other woman who lived across continents from us.  Wow, was this what God had been preparing me to receive?  God knew of the online affairs (yes, more than one I discovered) that had been going for over a year.  I am guessing some definite spiritual line had been crossed in March when God asked me if I would give my husband up.  There was no other way to save my husband and ultimately me without this severance.  Over two years later, I am able to see this.  At the time I only knew my world as I knew it had fallen apart.  

Although it hurt incredibly, I know now that the finding out like I did was God moving to protect me.  Had my husband completed his stealthy exit plans, I would have had no idea he was leaving nor where he was going.  I had a few weeks to discover the full truth and prepare before he left.  I would have been left with a terrible financial mess that I had no clue existed.  I would have had to try to complete a divorce across two countries which would have been complicated and taken a much longer amount of time.  We agreed upon a settlement and he was able to sign all he needed to prior to leaving.  I was able to liquidate some assets that gave me some financial breathing room.  

Was any of this easy?  A resounding NO!  It hurt beyond any emotional pain I have experienced to this date.  Was God there?  A resounding YES!  He was there through it all.  God asked me if I would given [my husband] up to and for Him.  When I said I would, for Him alone, I fully believe God honored my commitment to Him.  I do not have all the answers though over two years have passed, but I do believe God is at work and will continue to work. I have complete faith in Deut 31:6 that God will “never leave you nor forsake you.” and Matt 28:20 “I am with you always, to the end of the age.”  I believe Isaiah 43:2 “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers they will not sweep over you.  When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.”  The waters and the fire did not disappear because I believe in and am committed to God.  The waters did not sweep me away and the fire did not set me ablaze because God was with me.  I didn’t always see Him at the time.  Looking back I can. Hindsight is usually 20/20 …..even for seeing God.  I can see His preparing me by asking me a question.  I can see His providing for me financially.  I can see Him comforting me.  I can see him giving me strength to complete the tasks I needed.  I see him giving me wisdom for writing a fair divorce settlement.  I see Him working to make my now ex-husband agree to the settlement without a blink of an eye.  I see Him in the hugs, love, and support of my friends and family that gathered around me.  I see Him working with my ex husband to bring a prodigal son to a right relationship with Himself. I see Him so many places.   

The question now is, knowing all of this would happen, would I, could I answer the question God asked the same way I did over two years ago?   Yes, I would. Final Answer.  

“The kingdom of heaven is like a farmer who planted good seed in his field.  But that night as the workers slept, his enemy came and planted weeds among the wheat, then slipped away.  When the crop began to grow and produce grain the weeds also grew.  The farmer’s workers went to him and said ‘Sir the field where you planted that good seed is is full of weeds! Where did they come from?” Matthew 13:24-27   NLT

“Run from sexual sin!……..” 1 Corinthians 6: 18 NLT

This post is lengthy, but necessary for you to understand some of my experience.  So, how does a 26 year marriage dissolve in to a divorce?  Slowly.  None of this happened overnight.  Mistakes were made on both sides, but at the core was the choice to  invest in some one or something else while divesting us.   A house divided nor relationship divested can stand.  

It was summer 2014.  We had just returned from a vacation to the Gulf of Mexico.  We had taken our daughter and her lifelong partner in crime—my grand nephew— on probably the last trip we would be taking as a quad.  It was the summer between the kids’ junior and senior years of high school.  College and jobs loomed ahead on the horizon.  During our time away, my brother in law was hospitalized having required spinal surgery.  He did not do well with anesthesia and required my sister to be with him 24/7.  I arrived at the hospital finding my sister looking like she needed to be in the hospital bed beside her husband.  I had never seen her look so run down and worn out.  I  took her spot as caregiver/guard and sent her to my mother’s where she slept for nearly 14 hours straight.  It was the first inkling of how very ill my sister was.  Within a dozen weeks we had a diagnosis we had never heard in our family—pancreatic cancer.   Working in the medical field I knew that was one of the cancers with limited treatment success due to the advanced stages it reaches before producing symptoms.  I hoped, I prayed fervently this was not the case for my dear sister.   I will discuss what occurred with her in more depth later.  Suffice it to say she was very ill and needed a great deal of help.  My brother in law was not able to provide as much help needed due to his own medical situation.  

What is important to this discussion is that I was with my sister a great deal during the next nine months.  I worked, I followed my daughter in her marching band competitions and school events, and I took care of my sister.  I was home to sleep, do laundry, cook via crock pot,  and say hello and goodbye to my husband.  It was a survival mode of existence.  He was supportive and understanding of my need/desire to help my sister.  He encouraged me to what was necessary.  He initially did some household chores and even my daughter kicked in more.  As I think now, he visited my sister about four times in that 9 month period.  He never came with me for my weekend shift.  He and I  would  reconnect when I was home, but were often traveling with our daughter’s competitions.  We talked and texted multiple times a day.   Looking back now most of that was what was communicated was updates on my sister.  Discussions of what needed to be done at home and reviewing our daughter’s schedule were at the top of the list.  Scheduling time together was not part of the plans made.  There was little significant us time.  I was stressed and in a crisis of faith due to the events surrounding my sister’s illness.  I was not home most Sundays, so I was not attending church. He did not attend if I was not home.  If I was home I was exhausted.  All of this plus some self esteem issues my husband was having over his job, produces a perfect fertile ground for a spiritual dandelion.  Little did I know that my husband had let an old habit, I thought long banished, to come back into his life.  He had began to visit internet porn sites quite regularly.   We had been here before at least four other times in our relationship and marriage.  The first few times he confessed and asked forgiveness before I knew what he was doing.  The fourth time, he was caught via my resetting the internet history on the family PC.   Each time we had worked together and with counseling to repair the damage, secured our marriage. This time I had no idea, had never considered it as a possibility again.  

I truly believe pornography is a spiritual dandelion.  Porn initially appears harmless.  A bit of fluff like the dandelion seeds swirling in the wind.  It hurts no one and with the internet in our homes it can slip in unseen.  The weed seed seeks fertile ground to sprout and grow.  Before the user can begin to understand, it will run a root so deep it is nearly impossible to remove.  The brain chemistry changes of an addiction set in.  Have you ever tried to dig up a mature dandelion?  Those things have a root that grows so deep it nearly impossible to dig the entire thing out.  If you do not dig deep and work the soil around the plant, the root will break off giving up the visible parts, but leaving a partial root unexposed a few inches down in the soil.  That root will immediately begin to grow until it peeks it’s head back though the soil to bring another fully grown plant into fruition.  More fluff is produced and begins plantings of other weeds.   As marriage partners we each need to guard our garden.  The workers slept and the enemy came to spread the seed.     We need to guard against the weed seeds.  Filters to screen out porn type sites need to be applied to all internet capable screens.  Not out of the lack of trust, but to keep accountability to one another.   Internet access needs to be in the open where others are around and can see what the person is watching or doing.  Books, magazines, and other reading materials need to be free of sexual content.  The unrealistic and sexualized romance novel is porn in the female mind. TV and cable shows need to be scrubbed by filtering programs or turned off.   We do not need to let those scenes into our homes–even if the kids are asleep. We must guard against those dandelion seeds for our spouses and children.  Sexual sin is the only sin the scriptures tell us to run from. It tells us to stay away from others, but no running involved. This is one with such deep running roots we are to flee it before it has any opportunity for the seed to even settle. We must guard against it. We must be accountable to our partners to stay away from it completely. It is not old fashioned. It is not “religious”. It is life and death in a marriage and family.

My husband had began to seek a way to meet his emotional needs too.  Porn can feed a physical desire, but leaves the user empty with the lack of genuine emotional connection.  I was not always at home to talk, so instead of calling me, he chose to start chats with those he met on line.  He had not kept any close male friends since college. When his college friends married he cut the ties to those relationships claiming the marriage changed the friend. He used his computer to make new friends. I found this on his old computer cookie list. He left it behind and it provided a timeline record of all of his internet activities.  All the contacts were women and all interactions were quite innocent at first.  Questions regarding antiques, crystal  glasses, and such on sales websites he ordered from, became frequent emails and sharing personal information. The bloomed into assisting a new friend with listening during a difficult time in her life.  It became an intimate  friendship where he too shared difficulties with his wife.  Another similar site produced another female friendship.   This were not casual interactions. He shared the hopes and dreams with them that he had once shared with me.   He talked to them more about his day than he shared with me.  They shared inside jokes and the problems they were facing.   These relationships crossed a line. These were emotional affairs.  He was having his emotional needs met by these women instead of his wife.  He was investing in these relationships exceedingly more than he was investing in us.  Reading some of the unprotected emails, I actually had pity on the one woman and more anger at my husband, as it was clear she was in love with him. I pitied her because she had no idea of the life he was actually leading. I had more anger at him for hurting yet another woman.

These affairs were supplemented with a growing assortment of porn to meet increasing physical desires.  Remember the addiction brain chemistry changes I mentioned? They are very real with porn use. Science has seen very similar reactions much like with drugs, with porn users. The porn use, like drugs require more and more to achieve the desired effects. He continued these practices for over 18 months without my knowledge.   Nearly the entire time I was caring for my sister and for the year that followed.   He fell further into the downward spiral with  visiting actual dating sites.  He had profiles looking for partners.   He had social media accounts under alias names. He  joined dating sites for European countries and even looked into a mail order bride from the pacific islands (yes, that does exist). He continued looking until he finally met someone across the ocean.  Someone that did not care that he was married.  Someone that seemed more exciting and fresh than the depressed wife he had.  Someone he could run away with and leave all the old behind.  That is what he began planning to do.  

I suffered a great depression after my sister’s illness and was at a crisis in my faith with the anger I had over her suffering.  Shortly after this my burden was increased due to my mother suffering a fractured hip and the multitude of complications that followed.  She was hospitalized or in rehab for months and we nearly lost her twice. I was the caregiver again with less help than I had with my sister’s care.  I was barely functioning in any other capacity.  Meanwhile my husband was at home on his computer. Despite seeing the depths of my depression–the days I could barely get out of bed…..the days I binge watched TV in pajamas because I could not muster the drive to dress or face the world–he chose to not attempt to help his wife of 26 years. He chose to continue as he had been doing.  It was easier to invest in the new rather than to try reinvesting in our relationship and helping me.  It a nutshell: He took the easy way out.  

It takes two people to marry and two people to divorce.  I have heard people say each person in the marriage must give 50%.  I am here to say each person must be prepared to give 110% every day.  Marriage is work.  Marriage is a partnership.  If one partner is not able to give the other must pick up the slack.  I was not able to give and unfortunately for a prolonged time.  Most of that was due to my anger with God, a self imposed estrangement from Him,  and the ensuing depression.  My husband was willing to give some, but not the 110%.  I knew my husband had previously let porn and even a couple of emotional affairs occur a few years ago, when I was not around as much during a second undergrad degree and then grad school.   I honestly thought we were passed all of that given our  previous counseling, maturity,  and length of time we had been married. I thought we had invested so much in one another we were solid.   I knew I was depressed, but did not fully see what was occurring around me.  I sought some medical treatment, but not seriously nor steadily.  I started some grief therapy, but did not find a counselor that clicked with me.  I stopped going once Mother was ill and did not return.  I didn’t seek God as I so desperately needed to.  I chose poorly and tried to bury my feelings and frustrations.   I was emotionally exhausted and spiritually depleted.  I did nothing to attempt to take care of nor restore my own emotional and spiritual health.   I recall one time my husband suggested I go back to counseling.  I told him I didn’t know where to go.  That was the end of the conversation.

Looking back well over 2 years after the divorce, I realize changing any of this would not have changed the trajectory the marriage was traveling.  I may have been in a better place mentally had I gone to therapy, but it would not have stopped my husband from what he chose.  It was not my depression that ended my marriage.  It was my husband’s choices that ended the marriage.  My diverted attention and later depression may have made of his initial choices easier to make, but he made the choices. He chose to abandon the garden. It was that choice which let the dandelion take root, multiply, and take over the garden.  We fell asleep and the dandelions grew. The dandelions completely choked out the good seed we had planted, watered, and guarded.