Time or No One Wants to Hear it

WEEK ONE

“There is a time for everything,

And a season for every activity under heaven.”  Ecc 3:1 NIV

    I lived through a season of divorce. Its climate was quite variable and unpredictable. Hot angry nights followed cold autopilot days. Then the never-ending tears of days were interspersed with brief moments of sun. There were quite a few grey overcast days but sometimes storms of emotions popped up unexpectedly. Drought and downpours were not uncommon.

    None of the above is pleasant, but it can be survived. God’s word says there is a time for everything. I remember reading this and thinking, “Even divorce?” Time to weep, that scripture made sense to me. Time to mourn definitely fit my situation. But where was time to divorce? It’s time itself that is necessary. It’s the only constant predictable cure that I have found and experienced first hand.

    I know you don’t want to hear this. I didn't either. I wanted it over, done, finished and to move forward. But time was what was needed to heal my heart, the distrust I felt towards everyone, and what allowed the pain to reside.

    Time allowed distance to dull the ache and gain perspective. Time sharpened hindsight. Time allowed and inspired growth, change, and the act of being still. (“Be still and know that I am God,” from Psalms 46:10 became my mantra.) Time allows you to draw near to God and invites God to carry you over those dangerous cracks in your life foundation, while providing soothing words that mend those same cracks.

    I wanted to be well quickly. I wanted to get on with it, start over, stop wasting time--which is how I perceived the last two years of my marriage. I tried desperately to be the wife he wanted, the wife God expected, and a good mom too. I prayed, read the books, and saw two counselors to try and figure out what was wrong with me. I begged God to restore, recreate, renew my marriage, but it was not to be. So, let me be done with this.  I was exhausted. Mentally. Physically. Spiritually. Emotionally. 

    Mentally, I had been to see two counselors.

    Physically, I suffered through humiliating tests to see why my body was having pains and sleeplessness, to be told it was the stress of my marriage. The symptoms were real, but the cause was anxiety.

    Spiritually, I believed God had abandoned me. I believed the rules applied to everyone but me. Either God simply did not love me or the “rules” about being a good wife--good housekeeper, bookkeeper, caregiver, help mate, companion, kind and generous—did not work.

    Emotionally, I felt rejected on all levels. The man who had lived with me for twenty years had walked away. He did not love me. If I was not worthy of his love--the person who should know me best--then would anyone ever love me? I shut down emotionally for a very long time.

    I am happy to report all of the above has changed for the better. Time, sweet time, was the needed cure. Time to heal on all levels with the help of God, sweet Jesus, and dear friends.