Tonight, I have been looking back through my posts.
Like photos in an album, each marking a specific moment or season, the blog posts transport me back to the frame of mind and the condition of heart that I was experiencing as I typed them out word by word. They are digital time capsules, snapshots of my ups and downs. They are both joyful and painful to read.
Some of them, in particular, are difficult to look at. My post from last May – Why I Still Love My Wife – is a prime example. The words are powerful and wrought in truth and dedication. They are also not quite accurate now. It’s a hard thing to think about and harder, still, to admit…but my feelings for my wife have changed over the course of this journey. I’m not proud of it, but it’s probably largely unavoidable.
Months of being assured and reassured by the woman I gave my heart and name to that she no longer loves me and has no desire to ever return have finally taken their toll. I have come to a place where the sadness and pain of consistent rejection have outweighed the hopefulness I had that restoration was possible. My confidence in God’s miraculous power is not diminished in any way, but I have grown to suspect that He has chosen to not move in this situation as I had so desperately prayed He would. I’ve held on for months longer than good sense indicated I should…and now I am working on the process of letting go.
Letting go of my dreams. Letting go of long-shot, eleventh hour happy endings. Letting go of the hand I’ve tried so hard to hold on to.
I’m feeling peace at the moment. I know that God’s sovereignty has not been shaken one bit by my circumstances or my disappointment. A broken heart is no match for the enduring love and infinite power of the Creator. My joy must come from Him regardless of my situation.
My goal now is to model forgiveness and grace to my children…to trust in God more and more every day…to find a new, different love/regard for Hope that doesn’t expect what it once did…to prepare myself for what awaits. Maybe, one day, my heart will find a new connection that has been lovingly shaped by God’s mercy.
I am not abandoned. I am not forgotten. I am not rejected. I am not unloved.
I – like you – am the object of the Savior’s devotion. I – like you – am sustained by grace and empowered by mercy. I – like you and like Hope – am human and desperately in need of forgiveness and refining and courage.
Looking back is bittersweet, but important.
Looking ahead is a fresh chance to trust in the love of a Father who knows me better than I know myself.