My Heart’s A Traitor Bastard

I cried today. A lot.

Now, if you’ve been following this blog for the last year and some months, you’re probably saying to yourself, so what? This girl has

You moved a girl-chipmunk into our hole, gave her my nuts (and yours), and everyone saw. But these flowers make it all better, baby. Give me a smooch.

You moved a girl-chipmunk into our hole, gave her my nuts (and yours…tsk, tsk), and all our chipmunk friends saw. Now I live in a rundown hole in the ghetto. But these flowers make it all better, baby. Give me a smooch.

been crying for over a year now. But the truth is, I’ve been relatively content the last few months, and tears haven’t been all that common. But in the last few weeks, a lot of stuff has been happening around me, and today, I finally broke down and had a nice, long cry-fest. Sometimes, tears are the only way to cleanse a wounded soul. And mine is sparkling clean right now.

I’m only guessing, but I think every jilted wife in the world has this secret fantasy that their wandering husband will wake up one day, kick the other woman to the curb, and come crawling back, professing their undying love between the heart-felt regrets for what they’d done to us.  It’s a stupid daydream in all it’s simple-ness; by the time the wanderer has wandered, there is a mountain of crap to be shoveled through before reconciliation can even be considered, and mere words don’t even begin to cut it. If , that is, reconciliation is even something these broken wives hope for. I’m betting there is more interest in seeing their husbands having a high-heeled shoe surgically removed from their a$$es than any kind of sorrowful regret / let’s-live-happily-ever-after moments. But I’m actually not one of these normal, broken women. As pathetic as it may sound, deep down in the hidden recesses of my heart, I wanted my husband to come back some day. And for some added humiliation, I’ll go ahead and admit it. I still love Chef. So much for being a secret bad-a$$ ninja woman. I’m a sap.

I’m a person that holds logic in high regard, and it is with no small amount of embarrassment that I admit this to you all. Despite all the betrayal, humiliation, and dashed hopes, I still wanted my husband to come and sweep me off my feet again. And that deep desire has been the bane of my existence for months now. While it’s true that I haven’t felt that excruciating pain like I did in the beginning, and I’ve been able to happily believe at some points that I was over him, I’ve noticed this disturbing trend in myself. The less angry I feel, the more I can still feel that love for him.

Will someone please shoot me?

The Chef and T Love Fest has been going downhill over at the old Homestead for a while now, and even my poor dogs look traumatized by the rather quick run this relationship seemed to have taken, almost from the minute they moved in together. It is a sterling example of the very truth that the old cliché preaches — the grass is never greener on the other side. I won’t pour out the intimate circumstances of the up-and-coming demise of their relationship…It is their story, and I’m only a third-party spectator with limited rights to it, but I will say this. I can’t say with any real honesty that I wasn’t a little happy to see it all fall to crap, and so quickly at that. So much for the next Romeo & Juliet romance.  :-)

I know.

It is a very ungodly attitude, but as I told you all before..I don’t have this Christian thing down yet when it comes to my separation and impending divorce. I still suffer from being a fallen human with a fallen nature. And as T has had to experience, in lesser degrees, some of the emotions I had experienced when she and my husband decided they were in love, I’ve found a lot of that crazy anger melting away. Turns out, revenge loses some of its charm without that anger to fuel it.

I actually dreamed of the time when T and Chef would get a taste of their own medicine, and yet, when it really actually happened, I found myself less gleeful than I had expected, and rather a little more sad for them. None of the major players in this creepy triangle are happy for the most part. Actually, I’m the one who seems to be enjoying my life more consistently. How weird is that?? Satan must be having a blast at the amount of misery he’s been able to spread around in my little circle. What a douche.

Which has led me back to my original thoughts. Would I take him back? I think the answer is maybe. On the one hand, forgiveness isn’t a problem for me. I can forgive him. But trust, on the opposite hand, is a huge problem in my life. And the trust is gone, gone, gone. But, what if he and I were to get counseling? Oh, please. I’ve tried how many counselors for lesser things in my life? And I’ve stuck with none of them. And he’s worse than I am about that kind of stuff. Then, I’ve asked myself if he really loved me, how could he have done all the stuff he did? And here’s where I get stuck. He couldn’t have, could he? His words these days are perfect, as usual, but I’m not a fool enough to believe this man I’ve lived with my entire adult life doesn’t know just what to say to manipulate me. But, where are the actions to back up the words? Until recently, there were none, but he’s starting to do little things that make me wonder.

And I just hate that!

This cartoon sums my life right now perfectly. Chef is chasing Bird...but what will happen if he catches her? Fried chicken?

This cartoon sums my life right now perfectly. Chef is chasing Bird…but what will happen if he catches her? Fried chicken?

Let’s face it. As long as Chef and Bird live in the same city, we’re always going to be connected. We both find it easy at times to slip back into the comfortably worn routines we’d had with one another all these years, and while I can’t say what it does for him, I can say it makes me long for those simpler, happier times I was secure in his love. And anymore, he voices more and more of his regret over all that has happened to our marriage and family, and more importantly (to me), his dissatisfaction with his new relationship. And now that she is setting up her own escape route, I’m faced with the decision…move on without him, or explore the possibility that this marriage might have a tiny chance if we were to work on it.

Today, all the stuff going on in my life, added to Chef’s very early morning visit to my apartment this morning, where he cried for hours over all that has happened, including hurting me, his children, and T, and his one, true humble apology added to his pleading for another chance, all culminated into a good cry this afternoon.

To my chagrin, not once did I even think about kicking him in the butt with my own high-heeled shoe. Instead, I just wanted God to take that lingering love for him out of my heart, or to just make this last year and a half disappear completely. I want a Do-Over.

And incidentally, God is completely blowing off my requests. I guess I’m always going to love Chef. I might never be his wife again, but the love is still there. And whether I like it or not, all of this really did happen. It isn’t just going to go away. Oh, my treacherous heart!!

Anyways, this is more of a mental health post than anything. I’d love to know if there are any other wives that wish they didn’t feel this vulnerable to their exes, like me.

– Bird


One More Rant Before I’m Finished With These People

This week, I had a conversation that left me annoyed and wondering why it is always poor people that threaten to get their lawyers

Yep. He still tries occasionally.

Yep. He still tries occasionally.

right on your butt. Chef’s girlfriend doesn’t seem to be the sharpest knife in the drawer, and now I’m getting an idea where she gets her weird ability to blame HER affair with my husband on ME. You are probably as sick of this subject as I am, but bear with me through one final rant about the insanity that my life was a few months ago. Call this a mental health post, if you will.

T’s mother, B, is just as appalled as I am that her daughter took up with a married man ( who is older than she is), and about once every two weeks, she tries to call me. I never answer her calls because really, what is there to say? I don’t want to chat with my husband’s girlfriend’s mother. Plus, I can never really follow what the woman is trying to say, except that she blames this whole sordid mess on Chef, and gives her daughter every excuse in the book for it not being her fault, including blaming their affair on me. What the h…….?

Here’s the thing. T is 29, as of yesterday. She is a Christian, and knew that what she was doing was wrong. Chef is to blame, but so is she. They’ve had a rather public thing going on since at least February of this year. That was long before I knew about it. That’s all I have to say about the matter. However, I don’t really understand why, but B somehow thinks that some of this crap her daughter has pulled is my fault too, and I just don’t want to hear it. This week, she cleverly restricted her number and called me looking for Chef’s phone number. I use my cell number for work, so I have no choice but to answer numbers during the day that I don’t recognize, and to say I was less than thrilled to hear from her is an understatement. She rattled on, and I hung up.

Later in the week,  she (T’s mom) sent me a text saying she forgives me and my family for everything. What??? I texted her back asking what that meant. Why should she be forgiving me? She told me to go to my husband’s house and try being nice to him from now on, and then he would take me back. She insisted that my problem was that I wasn’t appreciating my family enough. Seriously?

Wow. This is him in a nutshell.

Remind me again…why do I want him back?

Listen. I tried everything when all of this was blowing up. I tried being nice, understanding, and supportive. I tried being mean, angry, and insulting. I tried every emotion in the book, and guess what? Nothing worked because the one thing I wouldn’t do was let him have all my money to use on drugs. And since that is what T is doing now, I have no chance of “winning” him back. He has exactly what is important to him, and it wasn’t important to him who provided him with what he wanted. He isn’t in love with T; he’s said pretty insulting things about her when she got a little perturbed with him about his conduct. He isn’t in love with me, either. He wants his drugs. Period.

Why would I want to reconcile now? He has chosen a course in his life that doesn’t work for me. I don’t want to be an addict, nor do I want to be married to one. I don’t want to always be worrying about where my next fix will come from, or deal with him when he is in the throes of the same worry. I don’t want to have to move from place to place because I don’t pay my bills. I don’t want to take care of someone who won’t work. I don’t want to take care of someone who doesn’t want to get well. So, I haven’t tried to get him back lately,  because if we couldn’t succeed in this relationship when he kind of cared about it, we certainly won’t make it now that he’s obliterated any trust I can ever have in him. The time of Chef and Bird is just over, and I’m making a new life for myself. I would like the people from my old life to stop calling me. Enough. It is over.

To say I feel total forgiveness for T and her family would be a big, fat lie. I’m really humiliated and embarrassed by a woman carrying on behind my back with my husband. I’m embarrassed by the lies he told her about me, and I’m really rather appalled that T thinks that somehow she can write her scriptures and testimony of undying love for the Lord on Facebook while flaunting her adulterous union with my husband to everyone around her. Somehow, she has justified her position in her own head, and I have no choice but to accept that. I struggle less with forgiving Chef…I consider him sick. Plus, I have loved that guy for decades. But to have this person he cheated with send me apology texts that try to justify her position by making me a poor wife is sometimes a bit too hard to take. Having her mom do it for her is enough to make my brain bleed. I will eventually move into complete forgiveness, but these random texts aren’t helping. Leave me alone.

There is always room for improvement in any marriage, and I am no exception. But it is a pure falsehood to say that I deserved my divorcehusband’s infidelity. No where in the Bible does it give a man permission to cheat on his wife, no matter what she is or isn’t doing. Ask Hosea. I’ll have to live the rest of my life with the parts of this I’ve done wrong, but I’m not going to fold up and die, and I’m not going to  make you feel better by accepting that some random adult woman couldn’t help herself from cheating with Chef because I was neglecting his needs. Nope. That isn’t what happened at all. I neglected to feed his drug habit, and she didn’t. She wins in this losing game right now, but I’m winning in the overall battle each day I don’t have to deal with all the pain and worry that comes from living with an addict who can’t shake his addiction. I am sad for Chef, and I want him to get the help he needs, but  I think if I’ve proven one thing in all of this, it is that you can’t help someone who just doesn’t want to be helped. Chef has to want to get clean. He just doesn’t right now. Period. Should he die of his use at this point, I don’t need to feel guilty. The question is, should you? Ignoring a bad habit such as this one is dangerous. How will you feel if he dies? Gets arrested? Goes to prison? These are the questions that would haunt me continually when we were still together, and I unfortunately don’t have the talent of laying my blame on other people. I own my own guilt, and those were the  problems that would haunt me all the time. Even now, I know I would struggle with the “what if’s” should something happen to him, but I also know that I waged one hell of a battle against all of this happening to both of us, and I have that to fall back on. It’s just out of my hands, now.

When I got sick of B’s texts, I finally wrote her a rather chastising one of my own about her daughter being the one who needs to be asking forgiveness, along with some angry referrals to some of her other messages to me (all without profanity, I’d like to note), and I got a call from T’s dad. Of course, I didn’t answer, but his message informed me that I needed to not be texting B or he’d call his lawyer. My first reaction was to be angry. I didn’t open up this dialogue! Then I started chuckling because it seems to me that it is always people who can’t afford a loaf of bread that throw around lawyer threats. Remember, I had to lend this family $500 to pay their rent, but now he’s going to pay a lawyer to make me not reply to texts that his wife sends me? Oh please. I wish I had enough money to afford a phone that blocks phone numbers. Forget lawyers. I have quite a list of numbers I’d like to never hear from again. Still, the threat was ludicrous, and I finally just turned the stupid phone off and enjoyed the rest of my day.

I know the T Family follows my blog, obviously for other reasons than what most people do, so I want them to know that I don’t want to hear from them. What is done is done. If you think this is my fault, suck it up. I don’t agree. I’m not going to help put Chef in prison so your daughter has to come home. I’m not going to apologize for not being nice to him and trying to win him back. The man, and your kid, are your problem now. Stop writing/calling me. And oh, please! Spare me your lawyer threats! I can’t believe you even bothered with that! It would mean so much more if I didn’t have the fourteen messages from B on my phone!!!! Are you kidding me??

Anyways, I’m sick of talking about this crap, so I’ll write another post later about how you meet love connections in the most random of places… :-) I have a date tonight, so I’m outta here! Have a nice Sunday afternoon!

– Bird

Taking Off the Rose Colored Glasses and Getting On With Life

I had a really good day today. 

There are a lot of things I find ironic right now. For one thing, Chef used to sing this song called “Rose Colored Glasses” to me that I just have always loved. Chef can sing really, really well. He has a beautiful voice. And every once in a while he would sing it to me at karaoke nights at a few bars that we would go to. But, for the last few weeks, I starting to really hear the words to that song, and I have to admit, I’ve been clinging on to some Rose Colored memories.

The truth of the matter is that lately I have only gotten phone calls from Chef when he needs something. Even as blinded by love as I’ve been, it is hard to miss that two minutes after I get the “I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life losing you” speech, it is immediately followed by “I have no money. Would you buy me some gas for my bike and a pack of cigarettes?” And after I say no, I’m barraged with condemnations about what kind of Christian I am. Mmmmm…That is enough to make a girl’s brain bleed. I’m not God‘s best, shining example of what His children should look like, but I’m not falling for that manipulative move either.

I have to say that drugs are just the most evil of things. Somehow, this substance has taken so many of the beautiful characteristics I loved in this man and made them disappear like a Vegas Magic Show. Today, I had a really nice conversation with my mother-in-law. She, like I, will always love Chef, and we both miss the man that he once was. It was nice to remember some of the really fun stories we had about this fun-loving man and to reminisce about some of his funnier moments. These days, his spark is all but gone, and the flesh that the devil has been carefully grooming in him has choked out some really outstanding traits he once had. It is the deepest desire of my heart that he will someday reclaim some of those unique characteristics. I believe he will.

God can heal anything Satan can do to us, but only if we want Him to, and right now, Chef still believes that he can manage this descent into hell without help. My heart is sad for him, because I know for a fact; this is just one of the worst roads a person can take. I’ve watched addictions steal people’s souls all throughout my life, and it is always a horrible thing to behold. It is slow, agonizing, and its destruction isn’t limited just to the addict….it tears up everyone around him/her as well. In our case, I have three children who, while young adults, don’t understand at all how they’ve suddenly become fatherless by his choice. As their mother, I’m helpless to explain other than that it is the shame that he is feeling that has made him push away anyone who knows the truth. And when you are desperately trying to hide the truth from even yourself, you certainly aren’t going to want to see that truth in anyone else’s eyes either.

Chef has isolated from himself all the people who can’t be lied to, can’t be blamed, and won’t buy the excuses, and sadly that is his wife, his children, his mother, and some once very, very close friends. At one time, I felt so desperately lonely, but I’m thinking now, he is probably much lonelier than I have been. Satan is very good at what he does.

I’ve set my boundaries in place, and while I sometimes second-guess whether I can maintain this wall I’ve erected around my heart, I’m well on my way to healing. I’ve begun proceedings to divorce him, as I need him to stop seeing me as a back-up plan, a convenient excuse, and an ATM machine, but I can assure you, I hate that it has come to this. I’d toss this case out in a heartbeat if my husband would do a fraction of the work it would take to rebuild, but as of this moment, he is unable and unwilling to even try.

These days, I can see the future without him, and in it, I’m still able to be happy. That is a big step for me.  An agonizing one, but still more positive than the life I’ve been leading for the last year.

Today, Chef must have been going through something that was really freaking him out, because he went all out with his insults and anger, threatening to tear my life up, blaming me for the problems he’s having, and rubbing my face in his affair. He’s been somewhat mean in the past, but today, he took it to a really new level, and it through me off-balance. I’ve not experienced the truly cruel side of him ever…Frankly, I never guessed he even had one. And, yes. It worked for about 30 minutes. For a guy who has some significant skeletons in his closet, he sure was courageous and vindictive.

But, then it occurred to me that none of this was actually about me.  I realized that this anger and hatred spewing from his mouth, while aimed in my direction, wasn’t really about me at all.  My own anger and hurt gave way to just this deep sadness for him. His life has taken a really bad turn, and it is just really heartbreaking to see someone descend into that kind of pain. I’m sad for him. This story is just so cliché. Even sadder is that anyone who is meeting him for the first time lately will never know just what a really cool guy he used to be.

My prayer for Chef now is that God manifest His power to the man, and that when every bridge has been burned, every friend has grown tired of being used, when the luster of false idolatry has worn away, and the truth of what has happened to this man’s life finally can no longer be ignored, that Jesus be right there to lift his face from the pig’s trough and remind him that He has a Father who will kill the fatted calf and throw a party for him when he returns home. I ask that you all pray for Chef. His life looks horrible right now.

As for the motorcycle club, I’m no longer welcome in it, and that is okay too. This club has become an idol for too many people, and while in and of itself, it is not a bad thing, it isn’t something God is going to allow His children to make more important than He is. Nothing on this earth should outrank God, Spouse, Children, or Work. Should anything ever be placed on the thrones of our lives that are not in the priority list God designed for our lives, He will take it away. I don’t feel all that upset about being deserted by this club as it never was on a throne in my life. I loved Chef long before he rode in a motorcycle club, and I was happy for him because he had found this family-like community that seemed to fill some need in himself. But, in the last few years, I’ve watched my husband elevate it to an idol in his life, and that has been hard to watch.

I will miss some of the people, and the camaraderie of it was fun at times. But most of these  people who once proclaimed to be my friends also welcomed my husband’s infidelity and his drug use, and therefore, there is no trust. Trust is important in friendships, and anything that encourages the destruction of a marriage is not something I can nor will embrace. It is said that these people will take a bullet for each other, but unfortunately, I’ve seen my husband become very, very ill, and from my perspective, the only person who loved him enough to do the really, really hard things to save him from himself was me…..no one else. I have watched a lot of people come and go in this thing, and only one thing really sticks out to me….loyalty is fleeting. And isn’t just in this club. It is in every form of social groups. Churches, gangs, motorcycle clubs, even police officers all proclaim a great love and loyalty for one another…until suddenly it is all gone. Some of my favorite people who used to be in our inner circle of friends are gone now, and most of the time, it has been painful to watch because every single one of them seemed to have no other god in their lives but a social club. And when it was suddenly yanked away from them, they floundered, looking to fill that void with something else of equal value, only to find that there is nothing that fills that void but the Lord. Nothing.

I’m not alone anymore. I’ve developed this wonderful set of friends that I can trust and who continue to check up on me, help me, and encourage me. Yes, some of them are in still in the m/c lifestyle, but a good portion of them are not, and I’m watching my new life come together built on a much better, solid foundation. I am happy. Each day, I get a little more peace, hope, and happiness. I laughed my butt off at dinner this evening with my daughter and her boyfriend, and even a snotty text message from Chef couldn’t break through that joy. Sadly, I’m no longer in love with him. I care deeply about what happens to him, but the butterflies in my stomach I used to get are gone. Sad, but true.

On another note, I went to church Sunday for the first time in years. I only went to Sunday School, and I’m going to have to admit, I liked meeting some new people. They are studying The Pilgrim’s Progress, which is just one of my very favorite books ever.

So, thank you, thank you, thank you for every single prayer! Obviously, God is hearing you all and heaping blessings on me left and right. And please keep praying for Chef, too. He’s our brother in the Lord, and he is worth every prayer we send up for him.

Love you all!!

– Bird

Painful Reminder My Husband Is Gone

 

Tonight, my daughters took me out to cheer me up.

 

English: Love Question

English: Love Question (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

I have no luck.

 

We ended up at a bar and my husband’s bike was there. Long story short, I’m holding in my hand a love letter from the woman my husband has been cheating on me with. I know her, and she is a proclaimed Christian woman, in her twenties. The love letter says when she is with him she feels protected, safe, and secure. My heart is just killing me.  My husband hasn’t made me feel any of these things in a long time.

 

She goes on to say that she is truly blessed to be able to be the one in his life. Oh my God. How do you cheat with a married man and then think it is blessed???

 

She says it is an honor that is too good to be true; a love that she had always heard and not seen, but finally gets to see.

 

I would love to know how anyone could do this to his wife? Even up until the day he left, my husband insisted that we’d grow old together. He kept telling me he was just having a midlife crisis and he’d work it out, but that it had nothing to do with me.

 

Oh, God. I am devastated.

 

– Bird

 

A Marriage Is Over

It is always astounding to me how a new perspective in an old situation can change the emotional landscape of one’s existence in that exact moment. Suddenly, though circumstances have not changed at all, you have, and every thing that is happening around you from that moment of clarity on feels different.

As anyone who’s been reading my recent posts probably knows by now, I’ve been engaged in a spiritual battle over my marriage. In a nutshell, my husband Chef is in the throes of a midlife crisis, and I, the ultimate passive aggressive control freak that I am, find myself not only unable to “help” him find his way out of it, but have been clearly instructed by the Lord not to bothering trying. For the back story, you can read any of the plethora of posts under the marriage category or my initial post, I’m A Casualty in my Husband’s War Against Time. For those who just want the cliff notes version, here it is: I’ve not been very obedient to God about staying out of His and Chef’s business. As God is inclined to do, He has used this experience as a refining fire for me, and while He is dealing with His son, Chef, He has also been dealing with His daughter, Bird, as well.

Never in my life have I been able to see my own heart so clearly as I have these last few months, and I have to quote Jeremiah 17:9:

 The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?

Through this experience, I’ve had to come face to face with some demons that have haunted me since I was a child, and I find that this recent upheaval in Chef’s and my marriage, which I had once considered a time of discipline from my Father, has instead turned into a time of Healing. And, for me, it all boiled down to trust.

Do I trust God?

Had anyone asked me that question even a few days ago, I would have answered with a resounding “yes”, and been convinced that I was being truthful. Whenever you ask almost any Christian this question, we will almost unanimously answer that we do, and probably not think twice about it. But I’ve had this sneaking suspicion for the last few months that God was pointing out a rather nasty little flaw in me, and that is my inability to trust anyone, even Him.

Subconsciously, I kind of always assumed that God loves all mankind, and even the sparrows, more than He loved me.

Even at this very  moment, as I’m typing these words, my heart is sad and afraid about opening up myself to being vulnerable to pain and disappointment. But at the same time, I have been given a new perspective from the Lord, and I feel the sense of peace one gets when they finally surrender to Him and trust that He will do what is best for us.

Yesterday, I gave up my battle with Chef, and with God, and admitted defeat. I literally, for the first time since it all started, gave up my own panic, fear, anger, and manipulation, and instead embraced the knowledge that maybe God wasn’t kidding with me…He told me not to try to fix this, even a little bit, and turns out, He is never fooled by me….even when I’m fooling myself.

Because Chef was gone for a few days on a trip, I had a lot of time to think about my next move, and the more scenarios that went through my head, the more frustrated I got, because it all boiled down to one fact…you can’t fix something in another person when that person doesn’t want to be fixed. Period.

Now, I’ve been thinking lately that my motives for wanting Chef to address these areas of his life were good ones, but instead of focusing on him and his motives, I instead had to look at my own, and they were rather sad and disheartening. I just wanted to continue to live in the life I’d carefully set up for myself, and I didn’t want Chef’s crisis to mess that up.

I’m sure a psychologist would have a hay-day with the number of reasons I have for not trusting other people, but it my thought that God isn’t interested in my excuses anymore. Yes, there are valid earthly arguments for me being this way, but He is my maker, and also my Great Physician, and after a lot of years allowing this coping mechanism to go un-addressed, the time had finally come for another step of healing to occur. And frankly, it just wasn’t a healing I had ever wanted or asked for. And I’ve resisted this process every step of the way.

If I am being extremely truthful with myself right at this moment, I’d have to say “No”, I haven’t trusted God all these years. Oh, I’ve prayed, and He’s answered. I have sinned, and asked for forgiveness, and I believe wholeheartedly that He has forgiven me. But always, somewhere in the dark corners of my mind, I’ve always thought that I was just a technicality in His system, not really a beloved child. I knew He wasn’t a liar, so I was saved. But to believe that the Creator of Everything in the Universe, actually cared and loved me as an individual was too hard for me to process, so I just didn’t. I’m exceedingly gifted at ignoring what I don’t want to see.

I’ve taught God’s love and mercy to any number of people, and I can say honestly that I meant every word. I have had no problems believing for all the good things from the Lord for other people, but I just didn’t want to trust God with the things that were really important to me, just in case He might not have my best intentions at heart.

Why should I? Up until only a day or so ago, I’ve almost always been the captain of my own destiny. I’ve been somewhat skilled at setting up my own controllable environments, and holding things that threatened my neatly ordered world away from it. And, for the first time since I was a small child, I actually came to trust Chef completely. I was shocked, surprised, and somewhat horrified when I realized this a few years ago, but I also have to admit, I really liked the feeling, too.

But by creating this structure of trust on a foundation of manipulation and control , all I was really doing was setting up the Perfect Storm for myself when the people in it decided to rebel, and it all fell down like the house of cards that it was. And frankly, I’ve been grieving for my lost environment, and struggling to rebuild on that same shaky foundation.

I would have to say that for the last several years of my marriage, I’d replace Jesus on the throne of my life with my husband, and even a baby Christian knows, God isn’t okay with that. I also have to say that there were only a couple of things that Chef would ever be able to do that would have removed him from that high place of honor in my life, and over the past few months, he did exactly two of the three things.

I want to take a moment to say this…his issues probably aren’t the things everyone thinks they are. He isn’t having an affair, which is definitely one of the three things I’d really, really have problems with. I don’t want to paint a nastier picture than it really is. But he’s struggling with normal midlife crisis stuff; issues that, to a person who thought things like this were only in her long distant past, have opened up a dialogue with myself that I think will prove to be the cornerstone of my new foundation, and it won’t be unstable or easily destroyed. And more importantly, it isn’t built around Chef.

As a teenager, a person once gave me this Word from the Lord, and what had struck me so curious about it was the tone that it had. They had told me that I had dropped my vase, and it had shattered and the water had gone everywhere. And instead of going to my Father and receiving another vase with new water, I was on the ground, trying desperately to fix the broken vase, and reclaim the lost water. I remember thinking it was kind of an odd vision, and I have to admit, I disregarded it completely….until right this moment. Boy, does God know me, or what?!

Yesterday, I spiritually gave up trying to accomplish rebuilding my broken vase, and scooping up the lost water. Instead, I received a new vase with clean, fresh water from God, and I have stopped grieving for the lost house of cards. Instead, I have a new hope, and it isn’t hitched to anything Chef does or doesn’t do. I’ve learned that maybe, just maybe, God isn’t my Father because of a technicality; what if He actually really does love me? Maybe it was no mistake He called me by my own name; and even venturing out a little more, I can say that I can trust God with all my important stuff, and He won’t let me down.

Today, when I woke up, I had a real peace and a sense of calm that I’ve not really experienced much in my life. And when the devil arrived, as usual, to shake, rattle, and roll my world, my brand new foundation stayed firmly in place. In fact, it wasn’t much of a battle at all, and the skirmish was easily won and quickly over.

Trust isn’t something I truly understand when it comes to other people, and I doubt this is my last encounter with my feelings about it, but I do have a firm knowledge that this is what God had in mind for me when all of this crap first started months ago. He gave me a lifetime of proof that I could, indeed, trust Him, and now, I find that I needed that proof, and a lot of it, before He would have been able to address this problem in me. It makes me feel like He patiently sacrificed Himself all over again for years, accepting my somewhat suspicious, distrusting service to Him. And He did that patiently and kindly,  just for me. And, when the time was right, He cared enough to tear down my pathetic dwelling I’d built on the sand, and instead helped me lay down a foundation of stone built on solid ground. A place that would be safe against the hurricanes of life.

How can I not trust a God like that?

It is with complete, heartfelt honesty when I say this: I am truly grateful that all of this has happened, because I’d rather have this peace and stability based on the foundations He lays for me, than have to do all the hard work it takes to keep my shanty-like environment, built on the sands of mistrust, from crumbling all by myself.

I feel like that life didn’t pass His inspection, and the dwelling has been condemned and torn down. Now, building has begun on a new life, and it will be better and far more trustworthy than the one I’d built for myself. My old marriage is over; now, I look forward to my new one.

Maybe it is a good day to ask yourself — Do you really trust God?

– Bird

A Pictorial Guide to Bird’s Latest Crisis