The Gifts That Come

Though I grieve its passing, I cannot deny the gifts that came with it.*

That’s a hard thing to say coming out of an abusive marriage.

Grieve its passing?
I don’t grieve what my marriage was, I grieve what it should have been. Don’t confuse the two; many women return to their abuser thinking their pain is about missing him or the relationship. Don’t do that. Recognize and grieve what should have been, not what was.

Gifts that came with it?
I suffered much in my marriage; still suffer in the lingering wounds and realities it has laid down in my life. I don’t consider that a gift. Rather, I consider how I’ve grown through it, how I’ve come to understand and better myself, how I’ve come to fully know and be known by the God who promises His presence and healing.

How then should I live?
Living in the truth of my situation requires I open my eyes to see what is real and then learning how to move forward in that reality.*

I choose.
Because I choose to hold on to the truth of God in the midst of my life; because I choose to learn and grow in strength, purpose, and dignity no matter the reality; because I know how more alive I am today than yesterday, I choose to embrace the grief for what it is and the gifts that come with it.

There is another kind of Love,
One that gives you the courage to be better than you are,
not less than you are.

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*Excerpts from the book, Revelations of a Single Woman: Loving the Life I Didn’t Expect by Connally Gilliam.

The Room

I was in a room. It was comprised of cement walls, one door, no windows. Blood was everywhere… my blood.

I was in the middle of the room, crouched low to the floor, covering my head, waiting for the next blow, but it wasn’t coming. I could see his feet back and off to my side. He had stopped. Everything had stopped.

Someone else was in the room. Other feet, beneath a white robe, were right in front of me. I had never noticed them before. I glanced up at a hand outstretched to me and heard the words, “Come with Me.”

I put my hand in His and stood up; it was Christ’s hand that held mine. I turned, I needed to see where my assailant—my husband—was. I feared him, I feared the next blow that was surely to come. He was still off to the side behind me, but frozen in position. His arm was up in a fist ready to strike, but it wouldn’t move—an other force held him back.

We began to walk toward the door, the door that my husband would block. I heard him shuffle behind us. You could tell from the sounds he was making that it was a great deal to do that much; he was desperately trying to stop us.

This room, this torture chamber of pain, was not of my husband’s making. Adults in his childhood had fashioned and built it for him. But instead of seeking deliverance from it, he had trapped me in it—where he could take out all the anger, rage, and pain he was feeling—directly onto me in an attempt to diffuse it. He became my assailant, and I his victim.

As we stepped over the threshold and out into the fresh air I heard him scream. A long, torturous, threatening scream. He was losing me, and he didn’t like it one bit.

He came to the doorway in an attempt to stop us, but could go no further. I was concerned he would come after us, but something still held him back. It was no longer Christ that stopped and held him there, it was the anger and rage that he refused to let go of that held him—by his own choice.

As we continued on, getting further and further from the room, I began to notice the bruises, cuts, and scars were healing. My clothes were no longer torn, but clean and new. I could walk without pain, and my steps became light.

I couldn’t help but wonder why it had taken so long for Christ to come get me and deliver me from that place. He sadly explained that He had always been there, offering the same hand of deliverance to my husband. As the husband is the spiritual head and leader of the home, it was His desire that in leading him out my husband would in turn take my hand and lead me out.

But it was not to be, not when deliverance is refused.

In what I can only give over as to His timing, He eventually, directly, turned to me.

I glanced back one last time before we went out of sight of the room. My husband was no longer trying to come after us. In fact, he had cleaned up and painted the room, putting on an extra fresh coat to the outside to make it presentable to the world. He was standing just outside the door in his best clothes and manner, enticing another woman to enter.

Since then, I have heard he’s tried to get several women to enter that door — into relationship with him. Some have asked me why I haven’t warned them. To do so would require I go back, require I hang around that door in order to give warning. I don’t want to live my life that way. That, I leave to Christ.

I choose to continue my walk with Christ, of deliverance, and to what He beckons me.

Out of Egypt

Is it possible, when God called the children of Israel out of Egypt,
some refused to leave?

This was the opening question to a conversation I had with God right after I kicked my husband out on reasons of abuse. Where I had tried for years to draw the boundary lines in our home, his escalating rage and abusive behavior now forced me to draw them outside of it.

The abusive mind projects its own guilt on to others, never on itself. The “other” is the problem, the reason for the abuse. Typical line of reasoning: if only she would be more… then I wouldn’t have to get so angry and hit her.

After years of counseling and a multitude of counselors, my husband was not turning from the abuse. I began to realize he wasn’t going to change; I certainly couldn’t change him. However, I was changing! With the help of those counselors, I began getting healthier and more stable in my thoughts and emotions.

Typically, when this happens, one of two things will occur. The abuser will see those changes and be drawn to them, eventually getting help and healthier themselves. Or, they will feel threatened by those changes, as if the other is abandoning them, so they often escalate their mis-behavior in an attempt to get the other to back down and return to the “norm.”

Our last counselor warned me of this, predicting that within the year I would be forced into a decision. He was right, my husband’s escalating rage eventually reached a critical point, especially when the verbal abuse turned physical with the kids. He could no longer remain in the home. I filed for a separation and partial restraining order.

I gave him a choice. He could return, but only when he got help and made significant changes (and a counselor said it was safe for him to do so). Unfortunately, he refused, even to the point of threatening to turn the separation into a divorce (which he eventually did). Depths of rage and abuse followed, the likes of which I’d never seen before.

In the conversation below (I had with God), He was preparing me for what was ahead (physically and spiritually), and establishing direction and ground rules, necessary for me and my children to make it out of the Egypt that had held us captive for so long.

You could call these conversations visions. Having an outright conversation with God can be hard for some to grasp, especially when visions are included. I think of them more as simple truths illustrated through the Biblical account of Egypt applicable to my life. Whatever they were, they made all the difference.

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In this vision, I was standing with God, just outside the gates of Egypt, looking at the children of Israel as they were leaving.

God: Ever wonder if some refused to leave?

“Me: Who in their right mind would refuse to leave?!?”

Many refuse to heed My call out of their bondages.

And then I saw him… my husband sitting in the middle of the Egyptian road, ripping his clothes and throwing dust and ashes over his head; refusing to leave and incensed that I was going

I am calling you both out of the bondages that have held you, will you obey even if he doesn’t?

I turned and began walking. At that point my husband began threatening, yelling, and raving all the more.

Do not look back, nor heed his call.
Your focus is forward, to what I am calling you.

I knew if I looked back, even to answer his rantings, I would end up right back there with him, back under bondage, right back where he wanted me; under his control and the abuse that vented his anger and rage. It was hard, but I knew there was no other choice… leave him there.

Always hope, forever pray that some day you will hear his voice
imploring you to wait, as having left Egypt he now longs to join you.
Then, and only then, can you heed his call.

When he began to realize I was going, that the wailing and ash throwing (manipulations, threats, intimidations) wasn’t having the effect on me he had hoped, he began making up lies and telling anyone who would listen how I had wronged him. Some listened, some even sat down and commiserated with him. Others came after me, trying to get me to “repent” and go back. A few knew what was really going on and tried to get him help. To no avail. He would rather sit in the middle of that road, that bondage, than to come after deliverance—the very deliverance that God was calling us both to!!!

I kept going. Even when his shouts of lies, slander, and cursing pursued my ears, I did not answer, did not defend, did not turn back. Oh how I would have rather heard his voice, coming up behind me, entreating me to wait until he could catch up. I sensed that was God’s desire as well.

As it would turn out later, he did get up and come after me, just not as I had hoped. Like Pharoah, he came for revenge, in an attempt to destroy me. But that’s another blog…

Long story short, I kept going. He tried everything he could to get back at me; revenge was his operative word. He slandered and lied about me to anyone who would listen in an attempt to alienate my children, friends, and immediate family. In what my lawyer referred to as Court Abuse, he filed useless and repetitive petitions, often doing so the day immediately after being struck down. Going to great financial lengths in those attempts, he felt the assets accumulated throughout our marriage were all his, that I deserved nothing “but a Walmart job and a Walmart life.”

Thankfully, that’s not what God was about. Remember deliverance? God was the wall of fire that blocked him on every turn, and eventually lead me to a place of deliverance, wholeness, and well-being.

Today I find it ironic; after 20 years of marriage, some criticize me for taking so long in kicking him out, other’s say I didn’t give it enough chance.

I know this… I gave it every chance possible until I had no other choice.

God is always calling us out of Egypt/the bondages that hold us captive.

Some refuse to heed His call…

What about you?

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Malachi 4:2 But for you who revere my name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings. And you will go out and leap like calves released from the stall.

The Bucket

Imagine if you will that your life is a bucket full of water. There’s a spigot at the top of the bucket wherein water can flow into it (IN). There is also a spigot on the side of the bucket (near the top – about 1/3 of the way down) wherein water can flow out of the bucket (OUT).

You have control of the spigots. You alone determine how much water flows in and how much water flows out. All you have to do is turn the handles to increase or decrease the flow.

So in a sense you have control of the water level in the bucket, depending on how you control the spigots.

But not exactly. Remember, this is life, so there are other variables to the level of water. Imagine if you will someone with a gun taking shots at your bucket. Putting holes in it. Some holes are huge, others small, depending on the gun used. But holes none-the-less. And water is pouring out of them. In essence, your bucket is wounded and it is bleeding. The water level is going down.

Sound familiar?

Thankfully we have Someone Else equally concerned about the level of water in our bucket. It’s His job to plug the holes (or heal them if you prefer).

But it’s our job to maintain the level of water through the use of the spigots. The spigot IN is obvious. More than water, it’s whatever fills us and lifts us up. It can be any number of things from friends, church, bible reading, pastors, counselors, support groups, encouraging words… to laughter, fun, vacations, etc. It simply is what fills you. If you don’t keep the plus side of life flowing in, your level will show it.

The spigot OUT is also obvious. It’s how we give; to others, friends, church, ministry, family, etc.

Take the spigots, add the holes, and what do you have? Life!

There was a time when the enemy had shot my bucket full of holes. Here I was, desperately in the bottom of my bucket trying to splash water up to the OUT spigot. Trying to help when I was low on resources. It didn’t work. You may think that’s obviously a silly thing to do. But I bet you’ve done it. Instead of turning up the ON spigot, we try to run on empty. Drained, we keep going. Never realizing God may want us to stop altogether, turn off the OUT spigot and turn up the IN.

When I went through the battle of my divorce, the enemy was bent on my destruction. Thankfully, I remembered the bucket, and turned on the IN spigot full blast.

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I want to thank a great friend who shared this illustration with me years ago, never realizing it would be a huge reference and life-saver for me throughout the trials of my divorce. For his article, and more about maintaining your bucket, go to Tank Maintenance 101.