Sometimes, when I begin to write on this blog, I worry about hurting God‘s reputation. I love my God; I love every single thing about Him, even the stuff that hurts me. I never want to give His name a black eye. So, lately, I haven’t been writing much because I’m sad, angry, hurt, and scared. All the things that a child of God probably shouldn’t feel if they really, honestly trust Him. But I’m flawed to a spectacular degree, and right now, I would just do anything to know Chef might come home again someday. But, on the other side of that, I know he probably won’t. Free will just sucks, wouldn’t you say?
But honesty is a virtue, especially in this lying, broken world we live in, and since I can feel Him pushing me towards this blog, I’ll write.
God, I love my husband. I have all of these good memories of him over the past two decades, and the fact that he is gone is just so painful, sometimes I think I’m just going to drown in the sadness. I keep thinking that tomorrow will be better, and in a way, it is. I don’t break down and cry as much, but I’m really freaked out because I can’t pay my bills, my kids are really sad, my son also has an addiction he can’t shake, and I can’t fix any of it. What a time for God to manifest His power, right?
I hate living here now, because I’m haunted by the fact that I could possibly run into Chef with his new girlfriend(s), and I will have to see what my lack of courage has wrought. A year ago, I should have kicked him out and made him hit rock bottom, but I didn’t because I loved him so much. I didn’t want him to experience any pain, and by protecting him, I only destroyed what I loved so much. I will mourn this forever.
Today, I’m trying not to get evicted from my home. I’m trying to find a rehab for the poverty-stricken for my poor son, who isn’t handling his father splitting all that well. I’m trying to pretend to be optimistic for Cait, who is on leave from the Air Force, all the while, saddling Rebekkah with half of the bills. I am lost. I feel shoved aside because I am no longer young, needy because I need help, and I have no pride in anything anymore.
So, there you have it. Bird is broken. Make of it what you will.