Hindsight

This summer has been so different from last summer. Last summer was so much heavier than many of you probably knew and certainly heavier than any of my blog posts would have led you to believe. I blogged about a lifestyle change and our silly pup, bragged on my husband here and there, but there was a whole lot of fluff in between. And the bragging on my husband? It was just to make me feel better about myself and to cover how everything was really breaking down behind the scenes.

But you never would have known that.

We were unhealthy, so unhealthy, but desperately trying to appear just fine to everyone around us. We fooled some people but those who knew us best, they knew that just under the surface something was very, very wrong. It was exhausting, that veneer, because it wasn't really us. The rest of it, the poor choices, the angry words, the cold shoulders, my selfishness, our unwillingness to be painfully honest- they were just as exhausting as attempting to hold up the veneer.

And so you had two weary, unhealthy people.

Looking back, we each tried to do what we thought might help and what we thought would get us out of that mess. Some of those efforts were good and true and needed. But we still missed each other in those efforts and we missed the point of marriage. In an earnest but woefully misguided way, we thought we were fighting for each other. But we weren't.

Painful circumstances added to our already weary hearts.

On July 6th, I mailed a letter that would cut ties with my father. It was a painful decision but one that I made with a great deal of thought, prayer and counsel. I couldn't repeat the dishonest cycles of intentional pain and deceit that he was directing towards me and the people I loved the most. I chose not to participate in it anymore.

Less than a week later, the man I called my stunt dad would unexpectedly pass away. Two weeks after that, Jason would move back to Texas in order to provide for us financially in a way that Chattanooga had not been able to offer. We wouldn't have called it a separation then, but it was. What would happen as a result of that separation would change our marriage forever.

And for good.

Why am I writing about this now? Perhaps it's because our fourth wedding anniversary is tomorrow. I laid awake last night thinking about it all. When it was all happening I couldn't make sense of it. I remember saying to my mom, "I'm so curious as to what God is up to. What is the point of all this? Why would I lose my dad, Paul and my husband all in the span of a few months? What is He doing?" I wasn't angry at God, I truly was curious. What was He doing? 

I don't believe that I serve a God who orchestrates painful things on purpose. I believe that we live in a fallen world. Death happens, relationships sever, marriages falter and almost fail. I do believe that I serve a God who can use those things {if I am willing} to mold my heart into more of what it should be. A year later, I know that God was pulling me {while I dragged my feet like a stubborn three year old} towards Him and towards a greater trust in Him. I know that He used those painful things to remind me of an inner strength that I had forgotten I possessed. God used those things to refine relationships in my life that were already precious, but now, even more so.

And on the eve of our wedding anniversary, I know that God used it all to craft a marriage that is stronger and healthier {and more fun!} than it ever was to begin with. But I'll save that part of the story for tomorrow...