Healing

He was my idol. In 1975, I was a pre-teen. Every month, I anxiously awaited for the latest issue of Tiger Beat Teen Idol magazine to hit the grocery store magazine rack. Once I held it in my hands, I couldn’t wait to get home so I could pour over its pages and all the teen idols that were photographed in it. In my day, David Cassidy, Donny Osmond and Andy Gibb were the most popular with girls on the verge of becoming teenagers. I read the magazine from cover to cover then carefully tore out the portraits and taped them on my bedroom wall. These guys were perfect in my estimation and became my crushes. However, deep down, I knew I’d never meet them, let alone any one of them ever becoming my Prince Charming. But it was nice to dream about one of them coming for me on a white horse then carry me away to a far away land to live happily ever after. He was my idol. For fifteen seasons, American Idol was a popular show on TV. People from all over the country would travel for miles to stand in line for hours to perhaps get a shot at becoming the next pop sensation. Sadly, a lot of those people went home with their dreams crushed. The chances of actually being chosen were slim and yet, there were thousands who reached for that moment of fame. The chance to be someone. The chance to be the next “American Idol”. He was my idol. The Old Testament is becoming alive to me. There was a time when I didn’t completely understand it but recently, God has been using the stories contained within its pages to teach me some valuable lessons about life. One such book is Hosea. In the first chapter of this Old Testament book, God tells His prophet, Hosea, to take for his wife a prostitute named Gomer. Although it might seem a little strange for God to tell Hosea to marry this woman of harlotry, He had a specific reason for doing so. The purpose of Hosea’s union with a prostitute was to demonstrate how God’s people were being unfaithful to Him by abandoning Him and worshipping other gods. The Northern Kingdom of Israel had turned their backs on God and were worshipping idols. Hosea warned them time and again of their impending attack and enslavement by the Assyrians if they didn’t repent, turn from their idols, and come back to Jehovah God. The chances of Gomer staying faithful to Hosea were pretty slim. She did eventually go back to her old ways, even though she and Hosea had a life together that included three children. This hurt Hosea very deeply because he loved Gomer. God told Hosea to demonstrate love and grace toward Gomer and buy her back from the man she was with. He was obedient and did as God instructed him to do. Hosea loved Gomer and gave her a second chance as God had instructed him to do. He was my idol. So, what exactly is an idol? Webster defines it this way. “A representation or symbol of an object of worship; a false god; a false conception” Simply put, an idol is anything that takes God’s place in our life. Period. Six Years, Nine Months, and Twenty-Nine Days Later The words above were originally written on November 6, 2015. It’s an excerpt from a writing named Idol Excuses posted on my previous website. For the better part of my marriage, my ex was the be all end all of my existence. It’s something I’m certainly not proud of. Not in the least. I always told myself I would never knowingly put anyone or anything before God and yet, my former spouse took precedence over everyone and everything in my life. For quite some time, I have been hard-pressed to write about this facet of my previous life. I’ve struggled greatly with the direction it needed to go and the purpose for which it would serve. It’s not an easy topic to broach. Reflecting on this particular part of the past brings with it a lot of pain, heartache, and quite honestly, it’s absolutely exhausting. However, as with every past writing, I know sharing my experience will also bring healing and restoration, not only to myself but perhaps to others as well. I always pray my experiences and subsequent lessons learned, will touch others and bring along with them hope and healing. In May of 2015, I learned my ex had been exchanging emails with some women in Japan. At first, he laughed it off and told me they were just some friends he worked with while we were stationed there. I told him he had no business emailing other women, even if they were “just friends”. He agreed with me and said he wouldn’t do it anymore but from that point on, I was always suspicious of his email activity. He had lied about many things in the past so my radar was definitely engaged. Shortly after that conversation, he became very guarded with his tablet and phone. He was definitely hiding something. I could sense it. However, I didn’t have any evidence to prove it so I started observing him a little more closely. It wasn’t long after that initial discovery, he made another trip to Japan for his employer. His trips had become more frequent and were a bit longer every time he went. Late one evening, I was sitting in bed scrolling through Facebook when I suddenly felt compelled to check his email. I had only felt this sense of urgency a few times before and I knew exactly Who it had come from. I only remembered one password for his email account, he’d given me years before, and I thought surely if he were hiding something, he’d change it. But he hadn’t. Somehow I believe that even if he had changed it, God

Balance. What was the first thought that came to mind when you read that word? Did you think of a scale with equal weight on each side? Mental or emotional steadiness? Stability? A checkbook? A gymnast? Justice? When my kids were little, we enjoyed going to the circus. My favorite part was the high wire acts. To see the performers walk along that wire as if it were four feet wide absolutely astounded me. In reality, the high-wire they walk on is only half an inch wide. Their incredible balance is nothing short of amazing. I know many hours of practice have been spent perfecting such a walk and I’m sure there were just as many hours spent falling as well. I can’t help but think how rewarding it must’ve been the first time a performer stepped out on the half inch high-wire and made it to the other side. I’m sure the adrenaline rush made them feel incredible, along with a great sense of accomplishment. However, just because they make it to the other side one time doesn’t mean they stop practicing the art of balance. They must walk the wire daily to ensure they don’t lose the skill. Before my divorce, there were many times it felt as if my entire life was a balancing act. Imagine, waking up each morning, hoping and praying that “today will be different” yet knowing deep in your heart, it wouldn’t. Imagine, attempting to keep someone else happy, when the rules of the game kept changing, without being made privy to such changes. It is completely impossible and equally as exhausting. Imagine, looking forward to him coming home after work yet, dreading the mood he’d be in, all at the same time. Back in those days, daily life for me was one performance after another; one balancing act after another. It was a daily practice for me so I became quite efficient at it. Do I smile and pretend everything is okay? Do I dare ask him where he’s been and why he’s so late? Do I admit how miserable I am? I kept a lot of things to myself because, somehow I knew, once I broached the subject of what or how I was feeling, it would be the beginning of the end. My entire existence was one of denial. Sometimes, I don’t even know how I lived day to day in such an unstable environment. It was only by God’s grace. He sustained me. Now, each and every morning I wake up, I am beyond thankful for all God has done for me, what He’s blessed me with, and what He’s doing in the lives of my children and grandchildren. But along with the thanksgiving filling my heart, there is great sadness. For the past few weeks, I’ve been feeling out of sorts. Everything external is still very much the same. It’s what’s happening on the inside that’s giving me pause. I know God is at work because I feel it. I just don’t know what He’s working on. And that is okay because I trust Him completely. Perhaps it’s just more purging and healing. While I no longer feel my life is a balancing act of going through the motions or putting on a performance, there is another sort of balancing act I’ve been struggling with. When I got married and started down the path of having my own family, all I knew was “til death do us part”. My grandparents had been married for over 50 years and I know my parents would’ve achieved that milestone as well had my daddy not been called home in 2002. My family has a long history of staying married until death do you part so I had no other thought than I’d achieve that as well. When I did not, my entire life was thrown off balance. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. This is what I’m trying to balance. This is what my heart is grieving for. Not for the narcissistic, controlling man who did not love me. Not for the marriage that was doomed before it even began. But rather, for what could’ve been had he not made the life choices he did. I didn’t know I would grieve for something that never took place. How does that even work? How do you grieve over nothing? How does my past, present, and future ever find balance? In her book, Made Like Martha, Katie M. Reid shared the story of a man named Alex Tizon whose parents owned a modern-day slave, named Lola. She was never paid and was ill-treated and abused for decades. After his parents died, Lola went to live with Alex and his family. She was no longer a slave but because she had lived as one for many years, she had a difficult time making the transition to freedom in his home. Alex assured Lola over and over that she was no longer a slave but was considered one of his family. She was free to do as she wanted as a member of his household yet she continued to do all the things required of her as if she were still a slave. It’s what she knew. She reverted to those slave-like tendencies and thought as a slave because they were familiar. She was in unknown territory and struggled with adjusting to her new way of life. This story resonated within me. I could relate to Lola’s feelings because I’ve felt them myself. I was in my marriage relationship just shy of 35 years. I was controlled and manipulated from day one. Even though it was very subtle at first, after three-plus decades, it’s deeply ingrained. I struggled to balance all the things I was responsible for (ie: full-time job, the house, the laundry, the bills, etc) as well as a man who wanted me to drop everything and run to his side the moment he called, no matter what I was otherwise