We-e-e-e-e-e-ll, it seems that only one of us took the talk after Scott’s funeral seriously (Scott Stories). We were going to slam the old book shut and start a new one together. The old one has been slammed, indeed. But instead of writing a new one with me, J decided he’s leaving, for the third and final time. The Lord told me the night before J did that he’d made his choice, and so I’m currently dealing with all the unpleasant decisions that need to be made. I could write thousands of words about the roller coaster of emotions I’m wanting to get off of, about the hindsight that illuminates the truth that I forgave many, many things over the years that were so not okay, but frankly, I don’t want to write about all that. I’m experiencing it as it is, so why give it any more attention than necessary?
Instead, what I want to say is thank you. Friends across the country reached out to me when I broke the news on Facebook, and many of you continue to check on me nearly 2 weeks later. I am humbled and overwhelmed by the amount of support y’all have given me. There’s such healing in just knowing I matter to people.
For most of my life, I have felt completely alone. Well, okay, I’ve always known the Lord is with me, but in terms of people, that’s a different story. There have been so, so many instances where I’ve walked through things that people had no clue about, or they couldn’t relate, so they just backed off uncomfortably. It’s not a good feeling, and after time, it leads to not really trusting anyone, while at the same time, desperately needing someone to come alongside and be supportive. That push-pull is exhausting, and I can’t speak for more extroverted personalities, but it tends to make us introverts draw inward even further. Which further heightens the sense of aloneness and keeps us from reaching out even when we really should.
Initially, I posted about this situation on Facebook because I knew it would get out eventually, and I didn’t relish the idea of having to talk about it over and over when the questions started coming in. But instead of questions, people offered prayers and hugs and shoulders to cry on. They sent private messages telling me about their own, similar situations, asking me if I’d slept or eaten that day, reminding me that I matter. And I began to experience something that many of my fellow humans already know: there’s a cushion of peace and acceptance in hard situations that comes from sharing your brokenness. I guess there’s always the chance of someone being horrible about it, too, but that has not been the case here.
So, my friends, thank you again, even though the words aren’t adequate. Your love has been life-giving to me in a time that I have questioned every good quality I have. The simple act of taking a few moments out of your days to reach out has helped me breathe a little easier and keep moving forward. The sleeping and eating parts, I’m still working on. But it will all balance out eventually, and maybe I’ll get skinny in the process. The Lord has been very, very present with me, and he said, “It may be over with him, but it is far from the end for you.” So I’m hopeful for my future, and I am held afloat by the concern and care from so many good people in my life.
Thank you. ❤