Filed under: Beauty from Ashes
I haven’t been here for a while. I’ve been in the center of a storm – and not the calm center but the devastating vortex of a tornado.
I learned three months ago that my husband had done the unthinkable. And I responded, immediately, decisively, knowing that anything I did was going to mean the end of my life as I knew, the end of my future and my husband’s.
I did it right – everything I was supposed to do. I even went so far as to provide some of the evidence that will put my beloved in prison for a very, very long time.
Yet, the response to me has been indescribable. I have been threatened, rejected, humiliated, accused. My daughter, for whom I sacrificed my life, has moved out and is saying things that I can’t even believe. I’ve been rejected by my church, and told I am unstable and an unfit parent.
When the events that come up in life defy all logic and reason, when the insanity around you becomes absolutely absurd, you have to wonder what’s at work behind it all.
But, God…He has been faithful to bring a few precious people along side me. People who know me, who see me day after day, and see the truth; prayer warriors who lift me up constantly. I am so grateful. He has given me a wonderful companion in my new puppy, Shep. Very adorable little guy – who really isn’t so little at 4 months old. And He is providing for me gently, graciously, generously.
So here I am. Alone. Facing a future at mid-life that is unlike anything I ever imagined, even in my most horrific nightmares. All the love and sacrifice and devotion I have poured into my family for so many years seems to have been for naught. I hope I am wrong. Time will tell.
I wonder if I should hold a funeral service for the death of my life. Bury my dreams and hopes and all the possibilities that I’ve held onto for so many years. Build a monument, scatter some ashes, plant a tree. There’s something to that idea.
Although everything about the life that I loved is gone, I’m still here. There is a song that I was introduced to recently by Jill Phillips. This is the chorus:
I feel the pain but it still doesn’t change who You are
Nothing I feel is outside of the reach of Your arms
My whole world has crumbled and all of the pieces remain
In Your hands they are waiting to put them together again.
I’m too close to the rubble of my life to see beyond the edge of this impact crater. But the slate is empty. And I wonder how He will fill it up.
I saw kite-surfers the other day soaring over the waves on the mighty Pacific. Perhaps I’ll start by learning to fly.
