Either shit or get off the pot...

Forever burned in my memory, is the morning before the beginning of the end. It was cold and rainy outside, my husband and I cuddled under warm blankets. I remember how his arm rested across my pregnant belly...how he kissed me softly. I remember feeling content and that if I could just stay this way forever, I would be happy. It was a moment of pure crystalised happiness - 24 hours later he would call my cellphone and I would dismiss him, because I was to busy to talk to him, 25 hours later he would befriend a work colleague on facebook and a week later, I would be crying and he would be begging to stay - 2 months later he would be living with his dad...a year later, my son is in my arms, my husband is back in our bed and I am forever changed.

This weekend almost felt like it used to be. Rainy and miserable outside, we cuddled under blankets -  with our 9 month old son in between. My husband kissed me softly over our sons head and I thought about the stranger who came on to me, the women my husband betrayed me with...I thought about the man my husband used be and wondered if he could be that man again.

For the last year, I have qualified every and any statement about our future with "if we don't get divorced". Unwilling to committ to anything,beyond the next second or minute. I refused to committ to a future and more recently started using "divorce" as a blackmail weapon. If I was feeling particularly hurt or angry, I would bring up an amazing idea of what our future could hold i.e. more children or travel- I would lay it before him, painting a glorious picture of what our future could be like and then I would slide in the throw comment - "if we don't get divorced, that is"... I silently derived satisfaction from the swift look of sadness in his eyes. I would know that I really hit the mark, when he started cleaning the house (my husband has been trying to prove his worth, by doing everything in our home).

Bitter and mad at my husband, I stood in the pew of our church and tried to connect. There a particular sentence in one of the hymns that caught my eye - "He forgave, so that we can forgive"... I had thought I had forgiven, but had I really, when my jibes came out of a place of revenge instead of authentic sadness and anger? I felt convicted that I have deliberately stoked the flame of his shame for my own enjoyment. There is so much that I should be ashamed of and God has forgiven me - there is much that I wish I could take back, but I can't and in God I have found peace. Who am I, not to withold forgiveness? God has been so good to me...

All at once, I felt sooo tired. Tired of being hurt and tired of hurting. I have held onto my unforgiveness and used it as a shield to protect my broken heart...and to wound his. Standing there, I just knew that it was time...time to either committ or leave. Within my heart I knew what my choice was.

Certainty that accompanied my doubts about him, now accompanied the realisation that I would stay. Yes, I allowed him back home - but I had never allowed him back in my heart. So, I will stay and stop using him as a whipping post for my grief, because I enjoy watching him squirm. I will stop emotionally bullying him and instead I would try to be less defensive and less vicious. I will start calling him "love" again and perhaps I would permit myself to run my fingers through his hair, every now and then.

I told him, that instead of being a step away from getting divorced - we are now perhaps two or three steps away. He looked relieved... We have teetered on the brink for so long, that even having our feet planted on solid ground no matter how close to the edge is a big deal.

So heres' to trying again...

"The glory of this latter house shall be greater than of the former, saith the LORD of hosts: and in this place will I give peace."

Haggai 2 vs9