This blog is really two blogs in one. I write about the timeline of a certain event in my past. I also write about how I’m healing and coping with that event in my present. The common thread, I hope, is God’s amazing grace. So, what happens when the two parts of this blog meet up? I write about it…that’s what happens. I’ve struggled with how to tell the story of the past few days. I’ve struggled with whether I should write about it at all. I’ve struggled with what “angle” to take if I did, in fact, choose to write about it. I’ve prayed about it, talked about it, lost sleep over it, and here is what jumped out at me: I must be honest. I pride myself in the honesty of my story. In being able to say “out loud” that I am unashamed of my story. In being unafraid to tell the whole truth of my story. Because if not, what’s the point of it all?

I’ve written about scars. I’ve written about wounds. But I haven’t written about what happens when those parts of you that you are trying to heal get re-opened. When life unexpectedly throws you a sucker punch. When you have to make the decision, once again, to move forward. I think we can all agree that there are upsides and downsides to Facebook. When I scroll through and see pictures of my friend’s kids dressed up for Halloween I think it is the best invention in the world. But, there are those moments (and we’ve all had them), when I think Facebook is the devil. Two days ago, I received a message from a woman outlining her sexual relationship with my ex-husband. Yes, this took place while we were still married. No, I didn’t know who she was. Sucker punch received. 

I could go into more detail about what the message said, but then I’d have to re-read it and that might make me throw up. Gross. But I think you get the jest. What was interesting about reading this new piece of information was that, in many ways, it wasn’t new information. Let’s be clear, I’ve been divorced for almost two years. I’ve known for over three years that my ex-husband was unfaithful. This woman isn’t telling me anything I don’t already know. But, because we’re keeping it honest, you wouldn’t have known that by my reaction. The tears started streaming down my face immediately. I felt suffocated, like I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move or speak or think. My insides started to hurt, just like that day over three years ago when I found out for the first time. I could feel my heart aching. The wind had been knocked out of me. I couldn’t stop staring at her face. Her name. Now I know her name. Another name. 

I was at work, doing what I love. The rest of the show was a blur. I was embarrassed. Who wants to cry at work? How unprofessional! At the end of the night I walked to my car and had to pause in the grass, because I felt like I was going to throw up. I wanted to throw up. I wanted to get it all out of me. Then I got in my car and I sobbed. I didn’t just sob, I ugly cried. I cried out hurt and pain and loss. I cried for the erosion of what I held sacred. I cried because once again, I was reminded how completely unwanted I was in my marriage. I cried because I knew I’d never be able to un-see her face. To un-know her name. Just add one more to the pile. 

Now it’s two days later and the big question on my mind is: Why does this still affect me so much? Why couldn’t I just roll with it? Why couldn’t I make a hilarious joke and keep my cool? What’s wrong with me? My friend Jake says it’s because I wear my heart on my sleeve. And he’s right (don’t tell him I said that). I’m a ridiculously emotional gal. I wish to the heavens I didn’t live my life that way, because I know it would save me so much heartache. But it’s just a part of who I am. I feel things super deeply. It’s annoying. Here we are, two days later, and I still can’t shake the whole feeling of being abandoned. Abandoned all over again. Make it stop! 

So, a wound got reopened. I fell down again. It wasn’t pretty. But I got back up. I’m able to see the silver linings. In reality, this is just one more affirmation that I made the right decision in getting divorced. An affirmation that God wants more for me than to be constantly disrespected. An affirmation that when I get knocked down in the future (because it may happen) it will be easier to get back up. Most importantly, it’s a reminder that God is in control. God. Is. In. Control. He’s got this. He held me three years ago and he is still holding me. He knows the path he has planned for me isn’t always going to be easy, but he will be in control every step of the way. And no matter how many times the devil tries to throw a sucker punch at my faith; I want to be able to get up, shake off the dust, and say “Here I am, Lord.” 

1 Chronicles 29:11 “Yours, Lord, is the greatness and the power and the glory and the majesty and the splendor, for everything in heaven and earth is yours. Yours, Lord, is the kingdom; you are exalted as head over all.”