29 March 2016
I'm on my fourth cup of tea today, the kids started their morning with peeps and chocolate kisses, while watching the Magic School Bus and Wild Kratts, and that's pretty much going to be our day. (For the record, I did make strawberry banana pancakes for breakfast with Candian bacon.)
Because sometimes life just bowls you over, and it feels as if there is no other recourse.
Of course, some other recourse probably exists, but when you're exhausted from being woken up around midnight by a little one, and it took three and a half (or more) hours to fall back asleep, it just doesn't seem like it.
I wrote, back on New Year's Day, that my goal for this year has been to thrive, not just survive, and I can tell you that there has been no thriving going on this house since Mike left. We have totally been in survival mode, holed up in our heavy routine of school, therapy, and activities, and honestly, I just don't have the energy to look outward and see more.
I knew that this year apart would be hard, but honestly, I have been completely taken by surprise at how hard it has been. You see, I thought it would be better for the kids and I have to have a break from Mike, with his focus on career and school (and resultant lack of time spent outside of the office and garage), his anger, and his isolation. Only it hasn't worked out that way.
Turns out God knew exactly what He was doing when He created the family unit, and even though those attitudes exist, the kids need their Dad. They need him on a deep, emotional and spiritual level that I don't think realized quite existed. To me, this only highlights the tragedy of families without a Dad - because of death, divorce or abandonment - and underscores the important of the father figure in the home. Their little emotional cores are off kilter, and the result has been a plethora of a disobedience, regression, anger, and sadness. Which is, of course, mostly directed at me, simply because I am present. It has been a slow process to get back to where we were before Mike left.
Also blind-siding has been the realization of the depth of my need for Mike. Not in an emotional, lovey-dovey, kind of way. But in a more practical sense - the other half of the parental team, the other adult in the house, the head of the house hold, whether he wants that role or not. And the deeper implication in the spiritual sense - the other half of the one-flesh, the leader in the home.
That "two flesh shall become one" is no light thing. The repercussions that pervade all areas of life, good and bad, after the union of two people is far greater than I knew or realized. No matter how I feel about Mike, and he about me, we remain joined together, soul and spirit - indeed we have become enmeshed. It's supposed to be like this, of course, in the Biblical sense. Why it has to be so tortuous I cannot fathom.
Mike and I have been through some hard times in our marriage. Some really hard times. We have seen friend's marriages fall apart and end in divorce when going through similar situations, but we have also seen friend's marriages survive and go on to thrive. We have done neither; we have simply continued to exist as a couple, carried by the momentum of life, struggling to stay afloat, riding out the monster of hard feelings of unforgiveness and hard-heartedness that rise from the dark deep to surface on occasion. For the record, we are both guilty of those things.
And now he is out of the picture, physically. Unfortunately, for me, I cannot kill the need to be loved by my husband, and thus I find myself on the end of a yo-yo, being strung along by the occasional reaching out in love, and then waiting expectantly, and hopefully, for more, which does not come, until at last I find myself ready to say goodbye, give up, and turn my back on the whole relationship, and then another letter comes, or a loving prayer written down, or a tidbit of encouragement, and that terrible bright hope rises up inside of me, hope I cannot suppress, cannot squelch, cannot kill, and it all begins again. And I feel I live upon the precipice of emotional turmoil, and my soul lives in constant juxtaposition of hoping for love and trying not to love, indeed even to hate at times, the man to which I find myself married.
I am at a loss as to what to do, except to reach out to the Lord, to let Him be my husband, to love me and cherish me and fill the gap that my husband leaves behind, unwittingly.
In the wake of all these feelings, I have found myself face-to-face with the weight of my own sin - unforgiveness, anger, envy, hate, pride, disrespect and more. The Bible tells Christians to put off all of these things, and through study, prayer, and fellowship I have been trying to peel off the layers of sin and keep them off. For every layer removed, another surfaces, although it seems to be fractionally smaller. Hopefully anyway.
I see the hand of the Lord in all this pain and turmoil, and I know He is working on me. The only thing that gets in the way is myself - my own feelings when I put my focus on Mike, wanting to do things my way, wanting to run away, failing to seek the Lord on a daily, or hourly, basis. My lack of self-control is rather appalling, but when a person lets things go wild for so long, what can one expect?
When the Lord begins to move His words from an intellectual knowledge to a heart knowledge, those ten inches can seen insurmountable. I think of verses I have had memorized for so long, like Proverbs 3:5-6 "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, lean not on your own understanding, but in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your path."
In all ways. In the pain of marriage. The bitterness of regret. The complete dismantling of any and all expectations for every aspect of life - learning to lean on Him in everything, even when you can't see around the next bend. Hard to live by, so hard. But you know, Jesus is right there to walk with me every step of the way. To comfort me when tears are streaming down my face as I beg and cry out to be released from the situation. To plant that minuscule seed of hope inside my soul that grows and insists on making its' presence known, no matter how dark things get. To learn, that no matter what, I am a child of God's, and He's got this situation, and He will use it for His greater glory one day. To lean into Him and learn that His love will be enough and that I can live without a man's love and be joyful. Not that I'm learning these things lightly, I speak partly of what I know will come . .. eventually.
For now, I will leave you these verses, which I have been trying to meditate on lately: