Morning reflections

If you've spoken to me in the last few days, it's likely that our conversation was tear-filled and desperate. I'm not sure what has happened, but I've been slammed with all sorts of emotions that I was really hoping would never resurface again. Support groups are winding down; summer "routine" is not really a routine; church isn't really even much of a routine because of the mass amount of guest speakers we have. I've had to do a few things for the first time without my husband, and, frankly, it sucked.

My cries out to God have been Psalm-like. The grief I'm experiencing is dark, raw, and endless. The pleas for relief I have sobbed have gone unanswered. God knows. He knows this is a part of the process. Just like he knew the process when Jesus was crucified. He cries with us - holds us and reminds us that he will never turn his back no matter what we do, but without this time of grief and pain, there is no transformation. We just have to feel it and use the pain.

This morning He finally answered me - told me some things I'd missed in my self-reflection. I'd been waiting to hear from Him, and it's always a relief when I do hear. These are a few things that he spoke to me.

• I have loved. Unconditionally. To the point where I've suffocated people - including my husband. Killed him. Squeezed the life out of him. Caused them him pain. In that process I've allowed him to take advantage of me. To crush my spirit. To hurt me with words and behaviors. I want to continue to love him, but that kind of love causes him to turn and walk away. He is finished being hurt by me. And I am finished being hurt also. As I heard somebody say yesterday, "That which you allow will continue." 
• I can't chase him or anybody else who walks away from me.
• I love him, but I do not love his behaviors. Even now after we have both begun the healing process I do not love his behaviors.
• I cannot pray for a change in him. I spent a counseling session a month ago sobbing so uncontrollably that I thought they were going to have to come in and cart me off to Mercy. I wept because I had discovered that I wanted to be able to love my husband  like I had loved him when we were teenagers, but I also wanted him to change to be a certain way now. That is a no-can-do in God's book. He gives us all free-will. Unless my husband sees that change is necessary, why would he want to change? Change in him may be necessary for me, but his way is working just fine for him at the moment.
• If I don't give this stuff up to the Lord soon, I will be crushed under the weight of it all. My call to service requires me to be here and in one piece. If I allow this burden to crush me I will perish. I MUST LAY IT DOWN.

On three occasions in the last month, I've had experiences with people dealing with family members who struggle with addictions. This is a physical reminder that you can love a person and pray for that person, but loving him and praying for him may be all you can do. 

My favorite time of the day is early morning. My head is clearer. It's quiet. Today it's even raining. Everything is peaceful, and I get to sit out on my porch and spend some time with God. It is at these times where most of my discoveries happen, and I'm so grateful that I was able to hear God speak this morning. My job today is to process all that he has told me and to begin to lay things down at his feet.

I was told that divorce is a roller coaster - that I'd feel good for a few weeks and crash and then feel good again and then crash. I have to say that the highs are higher, but the lows feel lower because of that. The time between them seems to be increasing, which is also good. God is working in me. He is carrying me through, but he refuses to remove me from the process. He knows. He knows that the woman I will be on the other side will be stunning and lively and happy. But most of all, he knows she is now a woman of Him.