I can’t go through this again, I said, suddenly serious.
Yes, you could, my friend Christian told me, just as serious.
No, it’d kill me. I can’t, I just can’t, I kept repeating.
No, you’d get through it. Just like you get through all of life, he assured me.
And then I told him I’d kill myself, but neither of us really believed it. Because I wouldn’t, but still.
We were talking about me and marriage and whoa. I know that might sound crazy, but it’s me we’re talking about here; and in case you don’t know, I talk about everything. Well, with some people, anyway.
And when I talk about marriage in the case of me, I generally say if while my friends say when. And when I asked Christian how weird–on a scale of one to ten-he thinks my life is, we both decided on twenty (at least) and then started laughing.
Because, seriously. Who would have thought? I still shock people quite regularly by giving them an outline of the recent events of my life. As in: I’m single now. S-I-N-G-L-E. Yes, I know he seemed like he was “really on fire for the Lord,” as one person recently put it, but well, things didn’t work out, anyway.
And the thing is, they don’t even know the half of it.
Just like me. At least, the way it was for a long time.
But now I know the whole of it and I’m grateful to be out of it. And I’d rather feel a little lonely sometimes when I am all by myself, then very lonely when I am with somebody who claims to be a husband.
I like this feeling, lately. I think it might be peace. Isn’t that a beautiful word? And what makes it beautiful is the concept behind it. Because sure, the e and the a sitting so close, making a nice, strong and two-letter-deep sound that neither of them could make very well on their own doesn’t hurt either, but I love the word because of what it stands for.
And you could talk to me about peace for hours and hours; we could even watch a movie chronicling peace that Quentin Tarantino himself made, but if it’s not something that’s in my heart, I guess I’d lose interest or stop believing after a while.
Because eventually it’d be like randomly saying peace to the soldiers marching in Pickett’s Charge in Gettysburgh while all their friends are getting shot down around them. War is obvious in the cadence of their marching, always marching, towards an end that is not necessary; not if this world were the way God dreamt it, I think. But I guess it’s the way we wheel and deal our free will as if we’re peddlers, each of us with an angle, each of us with a gimmick and a jingle to keep them coming back, even if it’s a place that hurts rather than heals. I suppose that is what makes war necessary sometimes. But God, I wish it weren’t.
But if you’re saying peace over and over again in the midst of all that, the word starts to mean nothing.
Which is what the word trust became for me. Nothing. But I kept hearing it; he’d even get upset with me for not holding fast to it, but there I was, watching everything fall down around me. Wondering at the secrecy. At the lack of communication. The lack of care. The lack, the lack, the lack.
And now it all makes a kind of sad sense. But the sadness is trailing behind, I think, in this race for my heart, while the sense of freedom is maybe pulling ahead now. And certain words that had lost their meaning in my life are once again conceptualizing right before my eyes.
Trust.
Peace.
Love.
Forgiveness.
And I find myself loving those words like they are family itself. I gather them close to me, holding them with the kind of urgency that spells out to the world that I’m not afraid for anybody to know how much I need them.
Because God, I need them to mean something and it’s because of God, I think, that once again, they do.
Well, God and people.
Some of the best darn people in the world, I think.
I’m so, so glad that you have those good people around you to speak God-words to you and to repair the meaning of words. I am so grateful for Christian and your parents and your brothers and your sister and your counselor and others that I don’t know that have helped you. such stars.
I am glad for all of these people in my life too. I honestly don’t know where or how I’d be without them.
Jess..beautiful post..i am so happy for peace in your heart..so, so happy. you are a warrior and i am so proud of how you have navigated and are navigating through this time..you are doing a wonderful job and i am honored to be friends with you..truly honored.
Thank you, Sarah. And you know that I am honored to be your friend–I appreciate you so very very much.:)
I’m so pleased with you, Jess. We both know that this could have ended more tragically if you hadn’t turned to God to journey you through this. Yes, I’m grateful for the people, but I’m also grateful for your choices and for a really kind God who cares so much about what you’ve gone through.
BTW, trust is only built through restitution. You can forgive but you can’t do restitution towards yourself. That belongs to another to do.
Well, yeah. I didn’t specify WHO it is that I’m trusting right now. It’s not like I’m handing it out to just anyone like lollipops at the bank…
Here I am innocently reading your post and now, BAM, I want a lollipop. THANKS A LOT!!!
Glad to help!!
And if we’re going with the lollipop=trust metaphor, then I’ve already given you one!!!
I hope your trust has a tootsie roll in the middle.
I hope my trust lasts longer than most tootsie roll pops!
Well, I am glad to hear that the meaning of these words is sweet (like a tootsie roll pop?) to you, Jess. And tootsie roll pops last pretty long…unless you are the owl!
I’m definitely the owl.
Me too. Crunch crunch – Lollipop is gone!
yeah, I don’t have time for all those licks.
And that sounds weird.
ME too!
Sometimes I wonder if trust can even be built through restitution – because after all a classic abusive pattern is Nice Nice Nice Nice HOrribly cruel apologetic nice nice making it up to you nice nice HORRIBLY CRUEL etc (and no I’m not referring to any specific recent event, just wondering how restitution plays into those kind of patterns.)
I was going to write a reply, but it’s just too darn long. I think that I have come to understand the complex relationship between trust, forgiveness, love and restitution, but I can’t get it into a length that anyone is likely to read. :-
Perhaps a post on your blog is in order:)
I agree. Write that blog post and I shall read it.
Yeah, I know trust is definitely different from forgiveness. And with some situations, the trust is so thoroughly broken that it just isn’t worth really trying to rebuild. And restitution is different–i think it’s important for the person who has wronged someone to make restitution. It’s good for them–maybe even more beneficial to them than it is for the one who was wronged.
You’re talking about Pop and the cupcakes again, aren’t you?
Well it IS the worst thing that’s ever happened to me!!!
Maybe restitution serves to rebuild trust like repairs to a bridge serve to strengthen a bridge that’s been damaged. But then there are times when the bridge is totally wiped out (like the one at 7000 acres years ago) and you have to completely start over.
In that case, I think restitution is still in order, but maybe more for the other person’s growth and freedom, than for rebuilding.
Jess, let me just say how excited I was to see my name in the tags for this one. Always a plus
Please feel free to do that anytime!
And I concur with Lynn. You have really been strong throughout this entire process. In honesty, when I talked to you in those first hours, I KNEW that you would come through this. You probably can’t even remember this, but me and your Pop were sitting there reminding you of the strong person you are. Of how your dreams, and your spirit, and your life, would not be destroyed in this. No matter how much you couldn’t see that at the time.
We were right
I do remember that, actually. I remember a lot of what has happened, I think. And I didn’t know how what you were saying could come to pass–I’m glad it wasn’t up to me to know how. I am glad that it is just happening; that God and people have stepped in and done it…