Scraping the Bottom of the Barrel
After watching “The Notebook”, I continued in a semi-catatonic state for several days. I would return to God’s arms as I remembered and as He gently nudged me and that helped tremendously—probably kept me from falling apart completely.
The thing is, God doesn’t promise a life free from pain and even in the midst of my pain I was convinced (and continue to be) that He allows and maybe even BRINGS pain into our lives for His purposes and to shape us into who He needs and wants us to be. I don’t want the pain but I’m willing to walk wherever God leads me and if that means pain, then so be it. A number of friends discussed the possibility of leaving my husband but God used some amazing methods to bring the two of us together more than a quarter of a century ago after being separated for a couple of years and unless God tells me to leave, I really don’t see that as an option.
The movie had been Saturday. Thursday, a breakthrough came. I was at my wits’ end, with no one to share my pain, I finally decided to tell my husband what was going on with me—how I was so near a breakdown of some sort. He listened quietly and then went on to talk about a letter he had just written and was excited about. Hurt that other things seemed more important to him than my crisis, I walked away, and escaped to the bathtub—a favourite place to be alone with God.
He finally came up to where I was and actually sat and listened to me. He wanted to know how he could help so I started by telling him my symptoms and what was happening with me. He wanted to know why this was happening so I started to tell him what the couple at church I had gone to for prayer had concluded the week before—that the stress of my marriage had built to such a point that I couldn’t cope anymore, though I didn’t put it quite like that. I think he was really scared I was going to say I’m leaving and probably his relief that I didn’t, enabled him to give his full attention.
I told him that there are three things I’m most aware that I need from him and he listened, agreed and told me he’s made contact with the counsellor I suggested and also renewed contact with his accountability partner who’s also a trained therapist, so that was good.
I felt a bit more hopeful with his response but being depleted is something that’s going to take a long time to change. I wasn’t just at the bottom of the barrel, I was scraping away the wood of the barrel bottom. I still felt like I was millimeters away from the psych ward but I kept going to God. I knew He was in control. I knew He loves me. I knew He has all sorts of good things in store for me but it didn’t take away the mental/emotional/physical exhaustion that was now two weeks in duration.
The thing is, God doesn’t promise a life free from pain and even in the midst of my pain I was convinced (and continue to be) that He allows and maybe even BRINGS pain into our lives for His purposes and to shape us into who He needs and wants us to be. I don’t want the pain but I’m willing to walk wherever God leads me and if that means pain, then so be it. A number of friends discussed the possibility of leaving my husband but God used some amazing methods to bring the two of us together more than a quarter of a century ago after being separated for a couple of years and unless God tells me to leave, I really don’t see that as an option.
The movie had been Saturday. Thursday, a breakthrough came. I was at my wits’ end, with no one to share my pain, I finally decided to tell my husband what was going on with me—how I was so near a breakdown of some sort. He listened quietly and then went on to talk about a letter he had just written and was excited about. Hurt that other things seemed more important to him than my crisis, I walked away, and escaped to the bathtub—a favourite place to be alone with God.
He finally came up to where I was and actually sat and listened to me. He wanted to know how he could help so I started by telling him my symptoms and what was happening with me. He wanted to know why this was happening so I started to tell him what the couple at church I had gone to for prayer had concluded the week before—that the stress of my marriage had built to such a point that I couldn’t cope anymore, though I didn’t put it quite like that. I think he was really scared I was going to say I’m leaving and probably his relief that I didn’t, enabled him to give his full attention.
I told him that there are three things I’m most aware that I need from him and he listened, agreed and told me he’s made contact with the counsellor I suggested and also renewed contact with his accountability partner who’s also a trained therapist, so that was good.
I felt a bit more hopeful with his response but being depleted is something that’s going to take a long time to change. I wasn’t just at the bottom of the barrel, I was scraping away the wood of the barrel bottom. I still felt like I was millimeters away from the psych ward but I kept going to God. I knew He was in control. I knew He loves me. I knew He has all sorts of good things in store for me but it didn’t take away the mental/emotional/physical exhaustion that was now two weeks in duration.
posted by Magdaleine at 7:48 AM
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