On my Facebook wall today are two photos with me and my dog, Molly, my Great Pyrenees we got in 2008 as a puppy and raised to a 70-lb adult, gentle giant.
It’s almost been four years now since the collapse of my marriage with K., expedited largely by external corruption and dishonesty, but also coupled with my own faults and those of my ex, who has lost access to all her minor children through the alleged use of meth and other drugs. (Molly was sent away before I ever got a chance to say goodbye to her–largely out of meanness.)
Two Sundays ago in church, preacher Gordon Dabbs talked about putting one’s past behind so that growth could once again happen. And I have to say that after nearly four years now, the melancholy of divorce isn’t nearly as painful as it was when it was so very raw on my emotions, but there still are triggers that pop up unexpectedly, like today’s photos of Molly, that make me sick inside like I was when my world was collapsing around me. Worse still are two refrigerator magnets of the youngest child; one I raised as though she were my own, who now supposedly is with her biological father, whom she’d never met until well after she’d been removed from her mother’s lack of care. Holidays and birthdays still are painful.
They say “time heals all wounds,” and yes, I am largely recovered emotionally from the trauma of the early part of this decade, but its impact will endure probably till my end.
I think the only way the ending of that marriage could have been thwarted was never to have begun it at all. But I also look back on good times, travels, and the difference my time made with a couple of the kids and when I think of it in those terms, I have no regrets.
I miss Molly, A. and L. J, too. I know my three girls feel the same. Life is hard. Some people have it out to make it even harder on others. And then there are just those variables in life one cannot explain.
Today is a new day. I could not be where I am today but for the hardships of the past, many of them that still have a claw in me. But more and more each day I continue to look forward, eager for new opportunities and new growth–more growth than what I’ve been able to accomplish in the new quiet of the past four years.
There were times when I wondered where God had gone in all the Hell I was enduring. I know now with greater resolve that he was right there next to me the whole time, knowing he’d not put more on me than I could handle, even with the heart attack two years ago, and wanting me to grow in life experiences and pains in new ways so I could greater fulfill the purpose he has for me in this life. That’s not easy to see when one is in the middle of the tornado of divorce and wondering why all of what was is suddenly getting sucked out of one’s life and thrown miles and miles away, possibly never to be seen or experienced ever again.
But God, I have found, has this way of taking us out of our comfort zones when it’s time for us to do something in his plan, not necessarily in ours. Sadly, today, it seems divorce becomes a vehicle for making transitions in life happen. And the result is usually something far better than what we had before. Amen. (That isn’t saying I condone or encourage divorce. But I do believe that in the end, good can come from such bad.)
If you’re suffering from an active divorce, either of your own making, a spouse, or one involving your children or parents, I pray for you constantly. It’s one of the worst experiences in life and it causes so much lasting pain. People shun you. People get mad at you. People form their own judgments of you, right or wrong, and there are times when you feel so very small and hurt inside.
Anger and pain are part of it, but so is answering God’s calling and voice to find good in the bad and make something positive come from it.
That’s not easy, I know. But it’s the only way to make things better, not to mention God has something bigger and better in mind for us all in the end….
Sophy And Fizz
I plan on getting two Great Pyrenees pups again as soon as I am able. I’m going to name one Sophie, and the other, Fizz. When I was a kid in Northern Michigan, one of my best base housing friends was Robbie Webb and he lived a Where The Red Fern Grows life with two black labs he had of the same name. He’d call them by name or he’d call them “Doggers!”
Eventually I will be returning to the woods of Northern Michigan to ply my book and eLearning trade from the beauty of those many and magical woods.
You see? A plan. And moving on from the pains of yesterday. Progress.