The past few weeks have been rough ones. Though I vowed to devote 2015 to working on my broken, difficult, against the ropes blended family hell on earth marriage, it still so often seems overly stressful and tiring and looks and feels like the effort gets us no where. Like it will never get better. Too many things have been said and done that cannot be unsaid or undone. More than ever, to me, our home feels like two single-parent homes that joined up to be roommates. I run my life and my kids and he runs his. We hook back up maybe once a week or on the weekends that his sons are with their mom to touch base about home responsibilities and schedules. Otherwise, we both seem to do better (or be happier) when we aren’t together. Or maybe that’s just me…. I don’t know.
Lately, as I’ve blogged before, I’ve gotten to the point where I embrace the inevitable. Sometimes even living like I’m single (planning to go to the gym, run errands or to girls night out after work instead of going home, volunteering to work late or work weekends, taking that cooking class each week, etc. Just whatever I can do to avoid coming home and facing the reality of my life.)
Yesterday I was texting with my friend Amy in Florida and told her verbatim what the pastor talked about today at church (on May 17 though I wrote May 13 in my journal… yes, I have to write down sermon notes because I seem to forget almost everything that is said to me verbally. So, notes notes and more notes it is!)
Anyway, I told Amy that it feels like it will be this way forever. Like it will never get better. And when my son graduates next year, I want us to reevaluate our life and see if this is really something we want to keep working on. Yes, we both said divorce was not an option when we got married. And on good days, I remember that and stand strong. But on bad days, it just doesn’t seem realistic and divorce seems to be the much better option and certainly offers more hope.
But the encouraging reminder that I so very needed came on the second page of the sermon notes. The story of Lazarus.
It’s so funny that the pastor said this because for the past few weeks I’ve told God that I feel like The Walking Dead. A lifeless person who just goes through the motions of life day in and day out wherever my calendar tells me to go. But inside, I’m dead. Oh how I need a resurrection!
Another thing the pastor said is that “transformation happens in the waiting room of life.” Another eye opening reminder for me. I was a hard core agnostic until my son was miraculously healed while I sat emotionless, numb and spiritually dead in a hospital waiting room for days (day after day unable to eat even losing 10-15 pounds) which is My Testimony. I remember what that waiting room felt like. I remember the hopelessness. It was terrible circumstances. Worse than now by far. Just as God showed up for Lazarus, He showed up for me in that waiting room. It was the best worst day of my life.
Lord, please show up in this current waiting room of life and resurrect my spirit. Not because I deserve it, but because You are a promise keeper. And for today, thank you for the reminders that I so desperately needed.