Love Connection

I sat at the Starbucks gripping my green tea lemonade and waiting for my blind date. Well it wasn’t exactly blind as I’d seen a picture but we’d never met and we’d never even talked. It wasn’t exactly, in the strictest sense of things a date, as much as a coffee meeting.  I have to admit that I’d been the one to initiate things.  I felt it was time and there was a lot riding on this.  I knew what I needed to do but this was so uncomfortable.  I double checked my reflection in the window.  My makeup was looking a little tired,my hair was a little flat and I was a little bloated but I sat up straighter and thought about what I’d say. Then the door opened up.

“Hi, oh my gosh you are gorgeous”.  Oh no I did not just say that. I scrambled.   “I’d seen a picture, your wedding picture but it doesn’t do you justice”.  I could not believe I just said that to my ex husband’s new wife. Seriously?  What about “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.  How are you doing? Thanks for having coffee with me.” as opposed to being a complete goober and blurting out the first thing I could think of to this utterly beautiful petite woman who drifted in, long beautiful tresses draped over her adorable outfit.  I knew before she said anything that she was also a lovely person.  I’d heard she was sweet but I needed to lay eyeballs on the woman who was now my son’s stepmother. She confirmed that opinion by just running with the conversation as if it was the most normal thing in the world for her new husband’s ex to comment on her looks and make reference to the wedding.  She earned definite points for graciousness.

After she got her coffee we talked.  My ex and I got our final divorce decree in July 2011. In December 2011 he met this woman, but February he was talking marriage and by August they were married.  None of this sat well with our son.  I’d warned my ex that our son needed time to get to know her and build a relationship but somehow he decided after a couple of encounters to announce their engagement and then asked my son if it was OK, sort of like when someone lights up and asks if you mind.  Unfortunately it wasn’t going well.  The troubling thing was that my son likes everyone.  There were times at school when someone might give him a rough time and I’d be ready to take it to the principal’s office and he’d say no. “Mom if they are acting out it means they are probably upset about something. I don’t want to make their lives worse.”  “Really?  I mean good for you” (even though I was itching to give them a swat).  This was the first time he’d refused to like someone.  He wouldn’t say her name, or talk to her more than was necessary.  I was all kinds of worried about this one.  As a past medical social worker I had a dozen scenarios playing in my head and none of them good.  Here is where love comes in.

The easiest thing in the world would have been to sit back and let things play out.  I had been translating between son and dad all their lives.  Ever since the divorce I’d been trying to keep these two together.  What I knew was that God designed my son to love.  Anything I did to interfere with that was harmful to him.  In loving my son I had to do everything in my power to keep the love flowing between the two of them.  Please know that my feelings have thrown every justification at me for being a righteous jerk, but my son’s heart is more important.

Now I had a new challenge.  I needed to help my son love his new stepmother.  It didn’t take any time to see what a pure spirit this woman had. I saw how she loved my ex and would have his back. I saw her heart as a mom for her own kids.  There was only one thing for me to do.  When I got home my son was still awake.  “Hey sweetheart. I had a great time.” I said. ” No seriously. I really like her.  I want you to know I feel really free.  I think she’s a good woman.”  My son hugged me.  “Love you mom. Thanks.  It’s going to be OK” and I knew it would be.

Does this hurt? Yes.  My heart aches when he is away. She will be easy to love.  I know that God designed his heart big enough to accomodate more people than me. Sometimes love hurts but in Christ it is not an option.  May God help us all to love way beyond what we thought possible. (Update in the “comment” section). D.

Sticks and Stones

Today I lied to myself and I lied to my son.

“Sweetheart mom in not feeling well.  Could you phone auntie Tammy and get her to take you to church?”.  I told myself that the headache I had was possibly becoming a migraine and the stiffness in my hips would make it just too much to get through a church service today.  Slowly the bedroom door closed and it would be one more Sunday without mom. Usually it was because of illness but not today.

I got up and as I started to move around I realized that the headache was only minor and the joints were not as swollen as I’d made them out to be.  I was in pain but the truth was that I was depressed.  I’d felt it growing over the last few weeks and had tried to combat it with getting out and doing some walks, talking daily to friends and making sure I washed my hair, did my face and got on with my life. Slowly I have felt the fatigue shrouding me in a mist that has been pulling me away to where even just the act of getting ready in the morning leaves me exhausted.  I am still able to break through and be grateful for the beauty of something as simple as the apple festival I went to yesterday.  It was a real challenge to make myself go but I know I had to counter balance the urge to cocoon.  It was a gorgeous fall afternoon and the setting on the river bank and all the people and children bustling about was really wonderful.  You felt connected with real life, but it was life you could observe and interact with only as much as you were willing.

This morning, the thought of a room full of worshippers, the singing and all the spiritual, emotional and physical engagement was too much.  I have such a wonderful group of people but I am so afraid of the depression being too close to the surface and the emotions churning around. I knew that lifting my face to God would have me in tears.  I do not want to cry.  I have no reason to cry.  OK we all have reasons but I want to be normal.   After going through a divorce and a couple of years of surgeries and ill health I want, more than anything to find normal.  I don’t want my normal to be sadness.  I want all the sadness gone and a clean slate, new skin, a fresh beginning.

In the back of my head I hear the echo of one divorce care leaders’ statements, “Divorce leaves scars that never go away.”  I was shocked.  I did not want to hear that. I don’t want scars. I don’t want sadness.  I want,…. I don’t know what I want but I know I am tired.

A study came out that the brain cannot tell the difference between physical and emotional pain. I saw that in play when my son was in football. A boy would miss a pass or mess up a tackle and would fall.  He would grab his leg or lie on his back and either wince or not move.  It wasn’t intentional. He felt pain but as the medic explained, the humiliation or upset sometimes translated into the boy thinking he was physically hurt. He wasn’t faking. The old saying about sticks and stones is wrong. Names can hurt you.  Sorrow can ail your bones.

This last month (months, years) has been hectic with good and bad things.  As I go through this season I will label the pain for what it is.  It will pass. It has before and it will again.

My prayers are with all of you as you go through your seasons.

Peripherals

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I know I am a little late with New Years resolutions but this year has already taken me to London, Istanbul and the emergency ward. The good thing about traveling is perspective and an important thing about illness can be enforced silence. All of this brings me to a New Years resolution that started germinating In Divorce Care.

One of the classes was on forgiveness. On the face of it, it would seem that the hardest part of a divorce is forgiving the other party. I had put a check mark besides that one as my goal was to move on with my life and to give as little energy as possible to fighting a battle where the treaty was already signed.

While in Istanbul the weather altered between snow and freezing rain. I’d watch as it would pour down on the narrow streets and what most held my attention was the persistence of the street vendors. There was every item imaginable for daily living. Even in the cold the life of the city, unlike in Canada, is primarily lived  outside in the side streets and alleys. I realized that the life of the heart is also caught up in the small daily purchases and encounters we have in the side streets.

Like so much of Christianity it is easier to deal with the big issues. Would you renounce Christ if a gun were pointed at your head? No, we proclaim. We would be heroes, but our lives aren’t made up of those moments. In forgiveness in my divorce it was one thing to say I forgive him but the truth is that forgiveness is a lot harder when it comes to all the other people who had a hand in the demise of my marriage and involvement during the divorce. By ignoring the side streets I had hidden resentments in the shadows. For a real forgiveness to take place I needed to inventory my feelings about these people and events. The problem was I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to relive the pain, and anger and hurt. Who turned their backs and said hurtful things? Who said nothing at all? etc. I wanted it all to be done. I wanted to make one grand gesture and be done with it. I didn’t want to live in the process of forgiveness.

Honestly I still don’t want to do this as it leaves me tired and sad but to really be free I need to search out the peripherals, the real places I have lived and bled so that I can mourn all the other losses and move forward in truth.

Wishing you all a New Year that is more than cliches and richer in joy than you ever dreamed, Sincerely, D.

re-post: The Danger of Making Your Experiences Fit Reality by Brad Sumner

The Danger of Making Your Experiences Fit Reality

I love the book of Job.  To me, part of the fun in reading it is assessing what part of the various speeches are true and square with God’s picture of reality and what parts are vain or idle words (of which all parties are guilty at points).  That’s why Job 21 is so intriguing to me.  Job’s friends have spent the better part of their speeches to date building a case that the wicked do not proposer and that everything they have will be riped painfully from them as God’s judgement on their behaviour.

But good ol’ Job looks around and notes that this isn’t usually true. He notes that the wicked “spend their days in prosperity, then go down to the grave in peace. And yet they say to God, ‘Go away. We want no part of you and your ways. Who is the Almighty, and why should we obey him? What good will it do us to pray?’” (Job 21:13-15).  Job’s assessment of the situation seems Prosperity-gospel-motivation1fairly realistic and level-headed to me.  People with no regard for God, both then and now, often do fine at business, parenting, finance, marriage and life in general.  The rain falls on the just and the unjust.  The prosperity gospel is alive and well.

But poor Job’s friends can’t resist an opportunity to moralize, so they do something that is all to common then and now: they find selective stories that fit their worldview and they pontificate and over-spiritualize them ad nausea.  What they fail to realize, however, is that their selectivity doesn’t square with the overall data of experience.  Job reminds them “Look, I know what you’re thinking. I know the schemes you plot against me. You will tell me of rich and wicked people whose houses have vanished because of their sins. But ask those who have been around, and they will tell you the truth. Evil people are spared in times of calamity and are allowed to escape disaster. No one criticizes them openly or pays them back for what they have done.” (21:27-31).   His friends have conveniently ignored any examples that don’t fit their worldview or make their point effectively.

So next time you go to tell as story as an illustration of a point you are making, you might want to ask yourself if you have a sneaky habit of finding and sharing only blogs or tweets or experiences that agree with your pre-formed opinions. Or do you genuinely allow the aggregate and long-term data around the issue to speak for itself?  If you don’t you might be making your experiences into a reality that doesn’t exist!

Brad Sumner is the head pastor at Jericho Ridge Community Church in Langley BC. He has an amazing ability to open up the bible and challenge your everyday thinking.  This is a re-post of his latest entry on his blog Leadership Confessions on TypePad.  http://leadershipconfessions.typepad.com/leadership_confessions/

Steve Grissom and Me and Christmas Time

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For anyone who doesn’t know who Steve Grissom is, he is the founder and president of Divorce Care.  He also narrates the video series.  Steve may not realize it but he and I talked all through the series. We have been through all the emotions I can think of. There were times when I was about to really react and he’d disappear and another speaker would intercept my responses and turn my attention to the next step.  At times I’ve wanted to mess up his perfect hair and justify my viewpoint or say amen or sorrow for his experiences.

A week ago we finished our Divorce Care classes and we were told there would be one more on Surviving the Holidays.  I wasn’t too worried as I would have my son with me at my mom’s and then I’d do the trade off on boxing day.  I settled in to see what Steve would say. It started as I expected with a review of potential problems and being prepared. Check. Steve and I were doing fine. We explored ways to prepare for celebrating the holidays. Check.  Then things got into misty-eyed territory for me.

He talked about keeping traditions and how that didn’t necessarily work.  I thought about making the yearly gingerbread house. Each year he (my son not Steve) did that with his dad. I had the pictures of them every year.  After R. left  I’d offered to do that with him but he wouldn’t even consider it. Aah. The traditions had lost their joy.  We would need to create our own new traditions.  O.K. That was something pro-active I could do.  A girlfriend of mine was way ahead on that one. Her daughter suggested they drive into the mountains until they found snow. They’d go and find a tree to decorate and open their gifts under the tree. After a rousing snowball fight they’d head home.  How great is that?  Yes I was ready for the challenge.

Then you threw me a curveball Steve.  You talked about custody arrangements and a shared Christmas. Your next words froze my heart. You said it wasn’t a good idea. What???  You and I just worked through the lesson of Reconciliation. It was even suggested that I call him every six months and see if he’d come home. Seriously?  Steve, what are you saying?  Then one of the ladies said that we should ask ourselves if we had pure motives in wanting a family Christmas for the kids.  The implication was that if we were hoping the occasion would rekindle a longing for home then it wasn’t pure.  Now I was starting to steam.  What could be a purer motive?  Wanting to give a child a mended home and to forgive is at the top of my sainthood chart.  Steve and I had hit a rough patch.  I was upset because though I knew my ex wouldn’t come home I really wanted to keep my son’s life as normal and happy as possible.  I was trying so hard to be gentle and peaceful so that my ex would feel comfortable visiting.  That’s when one of the wingmen came in to back up Steve before he and I had words.

It was explained that for the child to be put in that situation could give them false hope. It could be very disappointing and put them back in that  first place of hurt and loss.  I was silent.  I didn’t want my son to go through the pain again.  That was the worst part of being left, seeing the sorrow on his face when dad disappeared.  I had honestly wanted to give him the life I thought he deserved.  It was another loss to realize I had to let both of us live in the reality of the divorce in order for him to heal.  It was another piece of grieving I hadn’t expected, but I was not going to hurt my son to try and preserve the past.  I realized that Steve was opening my eyes to something I couldn’t see.

For you that have taken Divorce Care but haven’t seen the video Survivng the Holidays it is worth it.  If you haven’t taken Divorce Care it is worth the internal conversation with Steve.

I still want to mess his hair up but I’d more likely shake his hand. On behalf of myself and my son thanks for caring Steve and thanks for the chats. D.

P.S. This blog entry was never meant to be interpreted as being endorsed by Steve Grissom or his hair.

Unguarded Moments

(photo used with permission from “Remember to Play Events)

This weekend was a very rare event for me.  I found myself utterly alone.  My son and the dog went with my ex. for an overnight. I had a busy Saturday planned with a women’s Christmas brunch, cookie baking, gift wrapping and packing for the holidays.  What ended up happening was an all night battle with kidney stones and no sleep irrespective of what pain killers I threw at them.  By morning there was no fatigue or pain relief and I was in no shape to go anywhere and eat, craft, or chat.  Again I felt so betrayed by my body.  I think I may have even been a little resentful towards God.  “Didn’t you want me to get more involved with the ladies at the church?  I was willing to go out and socialize and expand my social network. Could you not pulverize a few minerals and let me get on with my life?”.  I was a step up from depressed because I could feel something, unfortunately it was not positive.

I was completely at a loss but I did notice one thing. Silence.  There were no voices, no footsteps, no TV, no computers humming, and not even any spinning thoughts. I was free to choose a topic to think about or nothing at all.  For a while I lay there in that rare state of clarity and almost held my breath as if it was a deer that might startle if I moved too quickly. Without meaning to I started to process some of the feelings I had about Christmas. Yesterday I talked about the legacy we leave our children but it didn’t mean that sorrow isn’t something that we need to deal with, it just meant that we shouldn’t unduly burden our children with our sorrows. I realized that I had to face what I needed to mourn before I could fully celebrate.  I hadn’t done it before because I needed to be strong, on patrol and holding things together while I was on duty.  I hadn’t been ready.  Suddenly it was there.

It was like packing away certain ornaments that would not be hung again. The three of us would never share those family moments by the fireplace for stockings, hot chocolate, or a special Christmas breakfast. I needed to stop looking at items in the store and thinking, “Oh he’d love that.”  We would no longer have gingerbread house building competitions. My son won’t do it anymore without dad.  Tears started to flow. I had the freedom, in this silence and aloneness, to grieve.  I grieved the future Christmases that would never be and the sharing of times of worship and praise at church to celebrate the center of our faith.  There would be future services but never all together. Never as a family. I grieved for what was gone and for what would never be.  I let the pain wash over me and didn’t try to stop it.  Eventually it began to recede. I was exhausted and flat but some of the pit that I’d carried in my stomach was gone.  It was almost two years since he’d left and I was finally at a place where I could believe that the light at the end of the tunnel was not attached to a train.

The silence had been a gift of sorts.  I can go back to seeing the beauty in the season as it is intermingled with the sadness. All the different filaments are woven into a tapestry made beautiful by the contrasts.  I am grateful for the unguarded moments so that I can carry on.  Wishing you all a season of unexpected blessings, D.

You’ll never guess the butler did it

Sue: ” Hey Megan.  I have a book you have just got to read.  You would never guess that the butler was actually the twins dad. He’d been disfigured in a car accident and blamed the family for stealing his children and was killing them off in vengance.  You will just love it. It is the most suspenseful book I’ve ever read.”

Megan: Cue sound of crickets chirping.

Knowing the ending of a book or a movie disrupts the story telling art.  It is the building up, the guessing and being on a shared voyage with the characters that creates the impact.

When presented with our bibles we are told that it is the living breathing word of God.  It is not like any other book. Most books you read from the beginning as opposed to New and Old divisions.  We read the histories but we have a big problem.  We know the endings.  We know that the ultimate battle will be won my God.  The suspense factor has been taken out.

I think we lose a lot of the meaning and impact of what we are reading because we see an overview of people’s lives and experiences.

Moving forward as someone who is divorced in the church it is easy to feel that we are alienated.  What if we stepped back and re-read some of the stories that we thought we knew from the perspective of the characters who had no idea what was next or what would happen to them?  What could we learn and take strength in?

I think of the story of Esther. We celebrate that she saved the Jews. We know the finished story. We don’t feel the true horror and sorrow that was her life.  To be a young girl without parents  must have been so isolating. To be sent to the palace meant to lose all her hopes and dreams. She would never have a nice Jewish husband and be able to raise their children in their faith. She was being taken out of her community to be put in a place of debauchery, violence and madness. She would be hated by the other women competing for favour and would be targeted for violence by them. She would undergo treatments and training that would be against her upbringing. She would have seen him drunk and out of control and pictured him touching her.  Her wedding night would be without mercy or love or committment. She would have no protection and nowhere to run. He could do anything he liked. She’d be tied to a man who killed his best friends son on a whim. His best friend had already lost one of his two sons in battle. He asked Xerxes if his second son could be spared. Xerxes called his friend to the courtyard and the friend witnessed his second son murdered as a penalty.  This was the man Esther faced.  Can you imagine her fear and hopelessness?  We know the rest of the story but she did not. We don’t know what happened to her afterwards but the dreams of her youth would never be given back to her and the rest of her days would be in this environment.  God put her in a place that was a nightmare and yet she trusted and served him.  It did work but she could not have known that.

Many times we will end up in places and situations that seem impossible for God to redeem.  We might see facets of our lives as nightmares. Re-read the stories as if you didn’t know the endings.  You will find that you are not such an alien after all.   D.

 

The War of Reconciliation

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That was it. I was done.  I put down the phone and once again I was in tears. How was it that I used to negotiate with street kids, bikers and warring families as a career but couldn’t seem to navigate my way through a simple conversation with my ex without his sharpness?  It was almost two years since he’d left the house and I couldn’t believe he could still make me cry.

I’d really believed that God had placed a strong duty on me.  I was to maintain my responsibility to care for my ex, to have his back and to live at peace with him as much as possible.  At the end of our marriage we quarrelled a lot because I had a need to be understood and I thought if we talked long enough we’d find a way to come to a consensus. (Yes I know some of you are shaking your heads.) Unfortunately it often went sideways and the simplest things were met with hostility by him, hurt by me and frustration from both. When he left I finally stopped fighting. I realized he wasn’t coming back and I no longer had to wait for the day it would be my turn and we’d have a partnership.  I thought I was learning to let go.  I thought I was embracing gentleness and working really hard to give my son the best relationship possible with his dad.

I wanted my relationship with him to be independent of his actions.  I wanted to model what a Christian’s response should be to people. I wanted to make theology live. I honestly meant to try to be radically different.  I couldn’t teach my son about forgiveness, loving those that don’t love us and be a complete cow to his dad. I wanted to thoughtfully act rather than just react. I refused to have his choices dictate the sort of person I would become. I still felt the dragon’s tail twitching inside of me, wanting to rant and vent my hurt and my loss, my betrayal and sullenness, but I really felt God holding me back. It was a daily battle. “Hi my name is D. I’ve gone six months without sarcasm, pettiness or spite”,…Most of the time it even worked but there was a problem.

When I hung up the phone I realized I’d spent two years acting like a low level employee on probation. I was not letting go of seeking approval.  I saw that I was hoping that he would suddenly see the years of loyalty and support and caring and finally say that I was a good person.  I wanted him to take back his words and change his heart. I wanted to be liked.I hadn’t let go of needing him to validate me.  Suddenly it all crumbled.  I couldn’t take the rudeness and the clipped tones.  I gave up. I’d done my part and it was a bust.

Our son’s birthday was coming up on the weekend.  I was hosting a party for our son’s friends on the Saturday and my ex would be there. On Sunday he would host a party for his family but I wasn’t allowed to attend.  It had been that way last year as well. I accepted the double standard but I had had enough.  I e-mailed him and asked him not to come. I realized that I was done being the constant peace maker.  I just wanted him to go away and take his negativity and judgement with him. I felt miserable.

On Wednesday I prepared to go to one of the last Divorce Care sessions.  When I opened the book I froze. The title was reconciliation.  No way.  I sat at a table surrounded by similarly frozen people. Some with stories so painful that even the word reconciliation was a slap in the face.  We listened to the video and I felt the humiliation of being rejected all over again.

Really? You want me to call every six months and see if he’ll come home? I should stay single like the woman who waited 12 years in case he changes his mind? Shoot me please.

What none of us expected is that reconciliation didn’t mean having to get back in our marriage with the ex spouse.  We started to breath. Cautiously. We were told that there were different levels including civility, and friendship.  It was like God was telling me not to give up.  I knew I had to relook at some of my expectations, hopes and goals. I needed to carve out boundaries that were healthy and redefine my goal as being a peaceful and healthy relationship so that all three of us could move forward. I needed to let go of needing his approval.

Letting go, just like any grief is not linear. I realize that reconciliation, like an addiction, will be a daily struggle.  We are all potential weapons of mass destruction. We have to choose to harness it, and I know I will revisit old wounds and hurts a few times before I can really defeat them. I wish I could tell you I’m a saint. I wish I didn’t have to struggle with wanting validation but this is my war to fight and with God’s priorities maybe now I have a fighting chance.

Wishing you all a world of peace, D.

 

 

 

 

 

Musings of Blendeddad on wordpress

One of the blogs I really enjoy on wordpress is called blendeddad. It is honest, sometimes gritty, sometimes funny but always insightful.  He mentions that  he’s been told he is  over analytical but it is that process that allows him to share some important insights and I am grateful for this.

I wanted to share his words as we don’t often get to hear a male perspective of being divorced in the church. Please check out his blog for his other posts.

D.

Is the church and other support failing us?.

knuckle cracking smackdown (part three)

So there I was in a room full of divorced Christians looking at the pastor and the pastor was looking at me with only Matthew 5:32 to divide us.  I braced myself.  I realized I was trying not to cry.  What happened next surprised me.  He said, “Well if I was at Alpha I’d say that that was a very good question D.  Does anyone at the table have any ideas?”.  He was being funny!  I laughed.   I didn’t expect that.  What he said next surprised me more.

“We in the church haven’t done a very good job at dealing with divorce.  We came from a place where divorce was wrong and you didn’t want to be seen to condone it. We haven’t bridged the gap  from rejecting it to helping those who are going through it and we end up just being uncomfortable.  I know for you D. that the church kind of let you down.”  I couldn’t move.  What I hadn’t mentioned in my other two posts was that this Divorce Care class was happening at my old church, the place I’d left because I felt unwanted. Inside I shifted. I started to materialize and not feel so condemned to be a ghost. I waited to hear what was next.

He said (paraphrase),”In this part in Matthew Jesus is talking to the Pharisees.  One of the practices of the time was that if your wife so much as burnt your toast you could divorce her and move on to the next one.  Some of these religious leaders had had as many as 15 wives.  These women were put through the mill of having to be married off to yet another man.  Jesus was pointing out the hollowness of these “godly” men.  He was really defending the women and saying that what was being done to them was using them, discarding them and handing them over to be used by someone else and that this was foul in God’s eyes.  They may have technically felt absolved but at the heart of it was sin.”

Lightbulb moment!  I realized it was in line with Matthew 5:21,22

“You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, “Do not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgement. But I tell you that anyone who is angry with his brother will be subject to judgement.”

I knew that I wasn’t one day going to be entering the Heavenly Gates and get a, “Whoa there girl.  It looks like your record here shows your heart wanted to issue 34 smackdowns on knuckle crackers and gum snappers, 213 on loud cell talkers, line budgers, ooh and a definite smiting on people with rude hand signals.  We have us a mass murderer. See you and stay warm.”

I realized that like so much of what Jesus was trying to drum into the thick skulls of the Pharisees (and us)  was the attitude of the heart rather than the letter of the law is what matters. 1 Chronicles 28:9 ” … for the Lord searches every heart and understands every motive behind the thoughts.”

Proverbs 20:27, Romans 8:27, Rev. 2:23.

This made sense. This was the love of Jesus and the heart of my Father.

I know that not everyone will know the context of this verse and so some will make their judgements.  While I don’t like it I can live with being loved and cared for by God.  I was so grateful for the words the pastor shared, personal and scriptural.  I have a peace with Matthew 5:32 and I’m grateful that Jesus stood up for those women and stood up for the truth and I’d like to think that maybe one or two of the men hearing him gave a thought to what they were doing, just as all of us, men and women, need to consider what we do today.

Thanks for letting me share my story.

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