There IS Hope

Not long after having posted below, and having accepted the reality that He wasn't coming home, I focused on all the things I had to do. Sorting out the bills, the insurance, I focused on throwing myself into work and "getting on with my life."

I started seeing someone else. And for a time, things were OK.

But God brought me to where I needed to be. He made me realize that what I was doing was adultery. Not because we were only separated, but because I had pledged my life to my husband 'til death before the Lord, and that no decision my husband, or any courtroom made would ever negate the covenant I entered into with my husband before God.

Looking back, I can see the seeds that were planted, and how He brought them to bud in a way only He can, so that when I sought counselling my heart was ready to hear that there was hope for my seemingly dead marriage. Thank you Lord for how far you have brought me.

I soon plugged into Rejoice Marriage Ministries at rejoiceministries.org where I found hope in the story of a restored marriage after far worse struggles than what we had gone through.

Today marks one year that he's been gone. The silence was the worst. Not knowing where he was, or if he was OK. The truth that the world doesn't tell you is that when you marry, that covenant is meant to last a lifetime, and that you aren't meant to be apart. It really is true that you become one flesh, and so the dull ache of missing him is always there. But after a year of growing in the Lord, and learning to trust Him to meet my needs, learning to believe in and trust that His promises are true, the intensity is gone. It's been replaced by a calm assurance that my Lord will to what He says He'll do. Isaiah 54 is the promise the Lord gave me shortly after he left. It shocked me that the Bible had anything like that in it, since it was almost exactly my story.

My husband is almost home. My Lord is speaking to him daily. We are now in contact at least weekly, and are now able to have pleasant visits a few times a month. God is so good. I spent months on  my knees, crying out to Him. There were (and are) days that the pain is so bad I feel it might crush me. (Going out on a limb here and quoting Scrubs.) Days I needed A BOX OF KITTENS! STAT!!

It's been one hell of a year. But I refuse to mildly hand my marriage over to the enemy to destroy. I refuse. I will stand on the promises of my Lord and I will honour Him and my husband just as I promised. 'Til death.

“Do not be afraid; you will not suffer shame. Do not fear disgrace; you will not be humiliated. You will forget the shame of your youth and remember no more the reproach of your widowhood. For your Maker is your husband – the Lord Almighty is his name – the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer; he is called the God of all the earth. The Lord will call you back as if you were a wife deserted and distressed in spirit – a wife who married young, only to be rejected,” says your God. “For a brief moment I abandoned you, but with deep compassion I will bring you back.”  Isaiah 54:4-7

No longer will they call you Deserted, or name your land Desolate. But you will be called Hephzibah, and your land Beulah; for the Lord will take delight in you, and your land will be married.  Isaiah 62:4

If you're feeling that kind of pain right now and are searching for an answer, seek the Lord, read His word, plug into RMM's devotions. My prayer for you is simple. And it's scripture, which being the Word of God has far more power than anything I could ever say.

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him that you may overflow with hope through the power of the Holy Spirit." Rom 15:13 

What to do when your husband leaves you.

Ladies and Gentlemen,

It is with greatest pride and deepest pleasure that we welcome you tonight.
Welcome to my return to the world of online venting.
I fully anticipate an onslaught of incoherent postings outlining the changes that come with any great loss.
The beautiful thing about these sites is the anonymity; your ability to be completely honest and incite discussion with those few of you reading this regarding how in the hell to deal with the things throw at us every now and then in life.

Life as a separated Christian woman isn't easy.

He and I

I really thought that we would be the ones to be together forever. I love him with everything I am. He was away for several months with the armed forces. I never thought he would come home from this to inform me, without any ado, that he was leaving me. He didn't want to be married anymore. He didn't want me anymore.

What you need to know about me is that when I was 6, my mom committed suicide. You want an inferiority complex and abandonment issues, the belief that you are worthless and not worth loving; that's the way to go about it.

Death is one thing. When it's tragic and sudden. And sweeps us away in a wave of disbelief that life can ever go on. I remember thinking, "How dare life go on." after Peter (a very close father figure) died. It felt wrong that everything could just continue to move forward, that time passed, that there were people out there just living their everyday lives while I was sitting there in complete anguish that this life had been taken. How could life go on without him?

But when someone who is supposed to be there to love and support you chooses to leave you behind.
That their life has so little meaning, significance and worth that you are not even worth choosing to stay alive for... That leaves scars that without God's grace will never really heal. Trust me. After years of prayer, contemplation and revelation, I still feel the effects of that decision in the way I see myself, the way I act and who I am every day. And that's crazy. That one simple decision made by one woman I barely remember 17 years ago could possibly have such long-term impacts is just insane.

But this... this is something else entirely.
Separation for me has felt the same as a death, it's this huge loss, this huge hole left behind in a place you thought was secure. In this person on whom you thought you could depend. The life you've spent years building is now thrown under the bus. The plans, the pointless fights over money, the dreams, the stupid cruise vacation plans, the months spent searching for jobs after multiple seasonal job layoffs, the time spent supporting each other while we finished school to be able to move forward and do the things we'd dreamed of. Missions have always been very important to me. As a nurse, I'm a sucker for a lost cause, or a lost kitten, a bleeding heart as they say. It's the reason I became a nurse. To go out there and be able to bring something more to the world than "I'm going to work and live as a mindless consumer" I want my life to mean more than that. That's still who I am, but we had made plans to do it together.

How can he even do this? He knows how much it will wreck me. I don't understand any of this.
I don't want him to go. I keep expecting him to walk in, say, "This is stupid, can we start over? I want to come home." But he's got it into his head that there's something out there he's missing out on.

We married young. And that's part of the problem I think. We both wanted it. But he had never lived out there on his own. And now, two years into our life together, after his experience living independently with the military, he wonders what else there is to life.

I imagine that a few months from now, he'll have lived a few things. Have had to straighten out his reckless spending, have "lived a little" and he'll drop onto my doorstep having realized that this is what he wants after all.

It's been two weeks since he informed me in no uncertain terms that he no longer had any desire to be married.

I'm a wreck. Thankfully, we only have fur babies. Toast, our pug-beagle is having an especially hard time coping to life without his daddy. Thankfully, I'll be sending Toast to live with him, I just spent all summer with the dog and have come to rely on him quite a bit for emotional support and company at night making sleeping in an empty bed a little less lonely. But the truth is that I need to get used to being alone. That the dog shouldn't be my crutch.

Let's be honest here. We're both used to his being away. But the reality that he will never be coming home hasn't quite sunk in just yet.