..........I broke..........

I knew it was coming. A girl can only be so strong for so long. I wasn't allowing myself to cry because my daughter hates to see me cry and well, we're rarely apart! 

Last week, I broke a long held silence, meaning I wrote a smidgen of my story, knowing full well that it was going to be read. Usually when I write my blog, I tell myself nobody reads it. It helps me to be more open. So anyway, I shared with the intent to have it read by human eyes - freaked me out! I was so upset once I'd hit the "enter" button, but there it was on its way through cyber space and there was no getting it back. Later that evening I heard the song that played that really bad day and to this day sends me into panic! So it was rough to say the least and I had some serious decisions to make. HARD, serious decisions.....

After a few days of plummeting freely into a downward spiral of self pity and borderline depression, I threw up my hands and refused to fall any further! I didn't come to this decision easily so please don't over think the "you're so inspirational" part of this, I fell long and far before I decided to fight gravity! 

I made a decision based upon the sheer terror of being alone forever. After years and years of running away from church, I decided to run toward one. Only finding *the* church where I felt comfortable, at home, welcomed, was a bit more challenging than I'd imagined. Somehow I had imagined that I could ignore the hurt and the memories and the traumas and just ease back in and be part of a church family again.

Church 1 wasn't it, church 2 wasn't it, church 3 wasn't it, I kept searching. I didn't want to give up. My daughter was at the church she'd gone to before the move. I had an extra hour, still no church. It was time for service, still hadn't found a church. My hopes dropped and my courage faded. The layers I'd worked so hard to build since I'd received that email on December 16th, crumbled and all that was left was the raw, deep down pain! 

I cried and I cried, hysterically one might say. For one who rarely lets tears get in the way of what needs to be done, it wasn't cleansing at all. I felt like my heart was being ripped apart. I drove all through church times, dropped my daughter off at home and continued to search. Many times I started to just give up, write off ever having a church family again, saying "screw it all! who needs 'em?!" ............I need 'em. I don't want to go through this all alone...

After visiting and walking out of two more churches that were of the few that still had an evening service, I was in my turn lane to go home. I don't know how God does it! Truly I do not. He always uses the music. My daughter misplaced my mp3 and I can't listen to Peter Furler's CD because two of the songs give me mini seizures so when "Matter of Faith" started to play on the radio, and I was already tearing up, I pulled out of the turn lane and decided to drive "just a little further". 


From my turn lane, to the end of the song, I found a church. I was so broken by that point that post traumatic stress wasn't kicking in. I was exhausted and just wanted to be among PEOPLE. I found some seemingly very nice people and though I opted NOT to talk to the "p", I was not afraid by being inside the church or among people. It just felt meant to be. 


The open conversation touched on a subject that I know all too well- honoring and obeying parents - no matter what. As I listened to the discussion and I remembered how I held no regrets because I did all I could to honor my parents, even in their final days, I began to think about my stbx. Oh and by stbx, I mean really soon. He told me Saturday that everything should be final by the first - he's thrilled to be rid of us. Sigh.....Anyway, when I said my vows to him, I vaguely recall the word "honor" being in there somewhere.  I know it's not exactly the same  as in a commandment, but in my heart of hearts, I honored my husband to the best of my ability. 


So why now that he isn't my husband, should I not show him honor? I know, I know, ex wives everywhere think I'm losing it! I'm not though. I am seeing more clearly than I have in a long time. I don't condone him throwing his child away or suddenly deciding to betray his vows to me, but, as a believer, I have to continue to have faith and believe that he will one day see the light again. He's living in a whole lot of darkness. I've decided to not bad mouth him anymore or say that I hate him and I promise to try really, really hard not to call him the "jerk" - though I'm only human...That might take a while. 


I'd like for my readers to say a prayer for David. 


I'm happy that I'm a single mom because he chose. Otherwise it would mean that he left me a widow and I would forever wonder where his eternity would be. As long as he's breathing, whether he's being nice or even descent, it doesn't matter, because as long as he's breathing - there is hope. Not a hope that we'll be together again, that isn't the desire of my heart, I only want for him what I wanted for my parents. I want him to find the peace and forgiveness that only God can give, just as mom and dad did. 


Sometimes I wish that I wasn't so stubborn! It takes me a long, long time to break. Now that I'm finally broken down, I can rest knowing that He can build me up. Just like in my book "Taking Time to Breathe" - yeah shameless plug - see home page for ordering info. 


Thanks for the prayers ~ they reached.