Mission accomplished
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| This girl may need to see a doctor, as it appears she has measles. |
As I write this, I feel the majority of the work has (perhaps implausibly) been done. So, it's time to recognize this feeling. I've built the bridge. I've made it to the other side. I am a single, divorced man who feels somewhat comfortable with that status. Hurrah!
Let's face it. I never thought I'd be married. I certainly never thought I'd be divorced. But, here I am. Strangely enough, I've had quite a few moments in the last few weeks when I felt — gasp — happy. It seems odd, especially considering all I've been through, but there it is — happiness — at least occasionally. And don't I deserve some happiness? Hasn't my life been a study in sadness and frustration? Isn't it time to feel something better than all of that, in spite of feeling unsettled and messy?
My divorce, which began in I believe 2013, has finished. Internally, my struggle is over. My main regret about my divorce was embroiling a dear friend in it, forever tainting her soul, causing much guilt and grief for her. Unfortunately, I can't take that back. But the upside was I had the woman of my dreams in my life for a short while. Those few short months were worth the heartache of losing her. I was on top of the world!
When my relationship with Cindy ended (officially in July 2017), thus began the most difficult part of my journey. I thought she could have helped me build the bridge, or so I briefly imagined. No, I had to do it alone. I had to let go of her and everyone else. I had to do the most difficult task of my life absolutely, utterly alone. To compound my grief, I lost Cindy at the same time my divorce was taking place, which added layers of turmoil. I could not have planned a worse scenario. But someone planned it. More on that in a bit.
Of course, Cindy is blameless. This is not my assessment; this is what God told me, further stating I cannot be angry with her, which has been confusing at best. But that highlights my greatest struggle of the last few years: my relationship with God. All of this has brought me back to that in nauseating fashion, over and over again like a Merry-Go-Round.
What transpired between Cindy and me was perfect. It was perfectly blissful, and then it was perfectly destructive. I want to say she destroyed me, but she didn't. God destroyed me, or, better said, God allowed it for His purposes. How many times did I catch myself asking, "Is this whole thing planned?" It seemed it was perfectly designed to destroy me; everything fit the most vulnerable, fragile parts, locked into them, and then blew them apart. I was beyond devastated. If God had allowed me to simply walk away from the two heartbreaks, I would have fared much better, but He issued a strange directive in Dec. 2017, something I continue to struggle with. It's that thing that confounds, angers, and holds me still, but my energy was directed in so many directions, and now it's directed where it belongs — toward God. Leave it to God to ask me to do the least logical thing when my world was pouring down pain. But the logic I didn't see was He was offering me solace and shelter from that pain. It took me a long time to see that.
The most fragile parts of me had to go. God had to destroy them in order to rebuild them to His specifications. I would often laugh to myself because it appeared this whole thing was by design. No one could have perfectly carried out what happened — the things that were said, the things that weren't said, the weaknesses revealed in me, the ensuing crisis, the humiliation, the pain, the heartbreak, all of it — no one, that is, except God. His fingerprints were all over this. He was definitely up to something.
What God told me in December 2017 continues to haunt me. Unfortunately, I took my frustration with God out on Cindy at times. But the whole Cindy thing isn't even about Cindy. I didn't get that until too late. It was just what God used to humble me and bring me back to Him during a very desperate time in my life. My lesson has been learned, but too late. I did the very things God told me not to do and broke what He was building. Who knows what could have been? Who knows what I passed up because I was disobedient?
So, I didn't get the girl. Honestly, I didn't expect to get the girl (and maybe I should not use such final language, considering there is still time). But, when God told me in 2017 it was possible, my head exploded. And then I did what He told me not to do, so now that door has closed. There, fixed that for ya, God. That will teach you to give me an unexpected ending.
Still, His barbs are in me. He has caught me through this process. I am fused to Him now, and like never before. I don't want to stray or even look to either side. He has broken me, and finally. I will go nowhere unless He leads me. And that's the final outcome of all the pain and suffering, some of it seemingly pointless and some of it necessary. I am His, finally and forever. In the end, it didn't matter if I got the girl. Yes, I love her and always will, and I will forever memorialize her as the woman who gave me the greatest love story of my life and a love that ended far too soon, but that wasn't the point of all this.
All of my anger is gone. All of my questions have been answered. I am finally at rest. My inner turmoil, my outer struggles, they receded like the tide, exposing what God was working on. This wasn't about me getting the girl — any girl — this was about God getting me. He went out and got me, rescued me from all of this and all of that. How can I not be okay with that? Talk about a great love story!
I have wondered since moving here why, exactly, I was here. Now I see it. The great turmoil wasn't supposed to last forever. It was supposed to send me in a specific direction. Why did all of those bad things happen? Why were so many traumatic events brought to the surface? Why now? Why here? Why, God? Now I see the one great thing that came out of all of that. Now I see why God had to tear me down and humble me: He is building something.
Okay, I admit, there will be more struggles (and more writing about struggles); I'm not a complete dullard. But the struggle I thought would never end is finally over. There is rest in my soul. I realize this blog is an odd form of therapy, but often I cannot process information that's right in front of me. This works for me, though it is unconventional and not very pretty.
Thank you for following along.
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