It's been three weeks since my heart was shattered.
It's my story and it isn't, and so I share only in part. But I will ask of you what I've asked of others: Pray for my marriage. Pray for me, for my husband, for healing, for strength. Pray for us.
* * *
I chose forgiveness, but forgiveness does not erase pain. It's here and it's real and acceptance, surrender, it's the only way I know to pass through to the other side. There aren't any shortcuts or sidesteps, no bandages or pretending it away that will do the real work of healing. I hurt. I simply do, and right now is a time of sitting with that pain, acknowledging it and experience it but not clinging to it. Likewise with anger: I acknowledge and accept its presence, while not clinging tightly to it either.
But a third emotion has also risen up, threatening to bloom so out of control as to drown out the intensity of the other two: fear.
I am terrified that this isn't really the end. I am terrified that it will happen again. I am terrified that my husband, despite having witnessed the depth of my pain these past weeks, will choose this path again. I am terrified that it will become something that will threaten to end our marriage. These are fears that I have never lived with before. I have never wondered, never worried, never suspected, never distrusted. And now I am afraid.
But I recognize that while the hurt and the anger have their rightful place in my heart right now, that fear doesn't. If I allow fear to take root, it could threaten my marriage all on its own, whatever my husband's future actions may or may not be. This fear is not healthy, not healing, and not to be trusted.
I love my husband. I love our marriage, our shameless flirtations, our 18-year-long love story. I love our inside jokes and shared history. I don't want to spend my life in fear, but right here, now, enjoying the life we have together. Isn't pain the risk we all take when we choose to commit to another person in marriage? I'd just never given it much thought before. Not him. Not us. Anger I could imagine, those daily frustrations that arise when living with another imperfect soul. But deep pain and utter heartbreak? I'd never imagined that.
* * *
Christ came that we may have life and have it abundantly (John 10:10). Abundantly.
He abundantly comforts (2 Corinthians 1:5), abundantly loves (Psalm 5:7), abundantly pardons (Isaiah 55:7), and offers abundant grace (Romans 5:17). He is able to do abundantly more than we can ask or even imagine (Ephesians 3:20), and in Him we have an abundance of joy (2 Corinthians 8:2).
I want to live abundantly.
* * *
Every minute spent in fear of the future is another minute not spent living in the present.
Every minute spent in fear of what my husband may or may not do in the future is another minute not spent enjoying our marriage and friendship today.
Every minute spent trying to live in the future is another minute not spent living abundantly in the life God has blessed me with here and now.
Those fears arise. They will continue to arise. And I will continue to take each one captive to the obedience of Christ, which leaves no room for fear. God is love and perfect love casts out all fear. All fear.
My peace and security are in Christ, and that will remain whatever may come.