Who are you? Why are you doing this? To me? To the kids? To your­self?? That is the most baf­fling. I just don’t under­stand it. 

That has been the refrain of my heart since Thurs­day (trig­gered by your mes­sages, and see­ing you). Are you so deceived and tak­en in by your sin, is the sex with her so good, that you’re will­ing to aban­don every­thing and every­one in your life up to this point, for what you think your future holds? Because this path leads to noth­ing but utter destruc­tion, and I’ve got a mil­lion high­light­ed vers­es in Proverbs to attest to that.

My heart has been hurt­ing so much this week, not for myself, but for YOU. How are you so blind to real­i­ty, so deaf to God’s voice? And you’re being just like Miss Kay from Bible study. She said she didn’t tell a sin­gle per­son about her divorce process until it was final, because she knew they would pray and coun­sel her, and she didn’t want any­thing to keep the divorce from actu­al­ly hap­pen­ing. (Now she wish­es she hadn’t gone through with it. DJ and Dar­by also regret not mak­ing their first mar­riages work.) 

I am so frus­trat­ed with you. And yes, angry. I only feel the anger when I imag­ine see­ing you in per­son, and remem­ber who you’re talk­ing to and sleep­ing with. That’s when I want to set my fists to fly­ing all over you. So instead, I focus on the kids, and how won­der­ful they are. And how clue­less they are as to the kind of man the father they adore so much, real­ly is. And I won­der how they will change when they wit­ness your life falling apart, if they even see you at all. Or when they’re old enough to under­stand the answer to the why’s they keep ask­ing me now, and all I can say is “I don’t know.”

And then it hurts, know­ing you prob­a­bly don’t give me a sec­ond thought, while my first thought when I awake is pray­ing for you. All through­out the day, I’m pray­ing for you, or about you, or work­ing through emo­tion­al trig­gers over you, or deal­ing with legal issues because of you. I hate that women don’t com­part­men­tal­ize and just move on, like men do. I don’t want to be the despon­dent, lovesick ex, always in love with “her man,” hold­ing out hope that he comes around and comes back to her one day. When you’ve so clear­ly moved on, and long ago at that.

When­ev­er I start to hurt for you, I should just remem­ber the cal­cu­lat­ed, dis­con­nect­ed, despis­ing voice that spoke of what a lazy, great-at-noth­ing per­son I am, and of get­ting all the mon­ey from me that you can, to start your new life. As though I had meant noth­ing to you for the last 18 years. And I should real­ize yet again the man I thought was my best friend, nev­er existed.

Yet despite all that, I sur­prised myself. That night at our son’s play, the only thing I found myself real­ly want­i­ng to tell you, is that I hope one day to see you be the man of God I believed you to be all along. And I meant it. I guess it only took me 14 days to first get there (12/1 post).

Let’s see if I can hold on to that. It’s a bat­tle, a choice every day – to for­give, to inter­cede. To see your soul as God sees you, more than I see your choic­es against me or feel the hurt and betray­al. Even say­ing hurt and betray­al, an image of Christ on the cross comes to my mind. How can I hold on to my hurt feel­ings, when He so will­ing­ly took on my sin and yours? 

And, oh, how I hate hear­ing peo­ple tell me to let you go and move on. Except for God 🙂 

I hat­ed hear­ing my dad say he and mom are pray­ing for God to send me some­one who will love me the way I deserve, in about three years. I don’t want to think about Boaz. I haven’t got­ten over Jabez. And I real­ly wish Jabez would become the man with the worshipper’s heart of gold I saw all along.

Ugh. There it is again. My ugly, unpop­u­lar, look-at-how-pathet­ic-I-am status. 

I still love him, with all my heart. Not an “in-love,” blind­ed, pheromone/hormonal, lust-dri­ven infat­u­a­tion. (Ha! Not like­ly. We bare­ly had sex. I would prob­a­bly still qual­i­fy as a vir­gin in some circles.)

I love him. His soul. He mat­ters. And my fam­i­ly wants me to sev­er soul ties and walk away. I under­stand. I’m walk­ing away. But I can’t stop pray­ing. How can I, when each time I enter His pres­ence, my heart is laid bare, and match­es my 4 AM clar­i­ty? This is what my heart wants. It want­ed it even the morn­ing of 10/7. And every morn­ing since.

God told me to sur­ren­der. And I felt such peace when He whis­pered that. I can sur­ren­der him to God. That’s the best place for him to be. God loves him so much more than I do. God wants His prodi­gal to return so much more than I do. He is patient toward you, not wish­ing that any should per­ish, but that all should reach repen­tance. And I believe, I have to believe, that God will bring him to his sens­es/Dam­as­cus road him. 

And God will work in my heart, to pre­pare me for what­ev­er the future holds. I know He will. I’d rather keep it vague in my mind, though, instead of rul­ing rec­on­cil­i­a­tion out. What a hard road that would be. May God give me strength for what­ev­er the future holds He holds in my future. 

2 Peter 3:9 (ESV) — The Lord is not slow to ful­fill His promise as some count slow­ness, but is patient toward you, not wish­ing that any should per­ish, but that all should reach repentance.