My heart was broken yesterday — twice.
The first time was at the women’s weekly Bible study that our church provides on Thursday mornings. The Bible study itself was wonderful. But after the study ended, I went to the restroom. I hurried. I really did. There was no dawdling or primping in front of the mirror, I am way too old for that.
But when I came out, all of the lights in the building had been turned off, the doors were closed and locked, and everyone was gone. When I got out into the parking lot, my car was the only one there.
The pastor’s wife called my cell phone and said she was sorry, that she hadn’t realized, until she was driving away, that my car was still there. I told her it was okay, that finding my way out of the building in the dark all by myself builds character. And I really do know how busy and rushed she is. Not only is she the pastor’s wife, they have three teenagers still living at home. Yikes!
But what broke my heart was that one of the women there, who had previously told me that she wanted us to go out to lunch together, Dutch treat, after every weekly Bible study, had also left… without making plans to meet me at a particular restaurant anywhere.
The last time we had lunched together, as I was telling her about something in my distant past, I saw a look in her eyes that made me think I had trusted her with something she could not understand. Immediately, I felt her warmth toward me disappear. But I told myself at the time that I was being overly sensitive and imagining things, because she had shared enough of her life story with me that I had thought she would understand.
But her rushing away yesterday while I was in the restroom, without a word about meeting for lunch, confirmed my feeling, and it broke my heart.
So I came home for lunch, instead, telling myself that my loving husband always welcomes me with open arms, which he did. And he was very empathetic when I told him how abandoned I had felt, when I came out of the restroom to a dark, empty building.
But then, a couple of hours later, my husband and I got into one of the worst arguments of our marriage, definitely the worst argument in many years, because he wants to take out a $50,000 mortgage on our completely paid for house, in order to pay off high interest debt, and lend his daughter $17,000 to buy a house of her own…. and I don’t really want to put a mortgage on our paid for home, because I have experienced foreclosure twice in my life, once as a child, and again as an adult, and it was a horrible experience. Especially now that we are in our sixties, having a paid off house has been a huge security for me.
But my trust should be in the Lord, not in a house. I know this. And I should be willing to give up everything, if it is the Lord’s will, as a committed Christian, I do believe this. But… is this God’s will?
Mu husband became furious at me for wanting to prayerfully and calmly talk out all the pros and cons, rather than just blindly trust his judgment. Because, quote: “You don’t know our finances like I do!” And “You aren’t thinking right, you seem overly emotional and anxious!”
Then a lot of very hateful words started flying, from both sides.
By one o’clock in the morning, we had both apologized — my husband first — and hugged. But I went to bed feeling like I had been run over by a bulldozer, and “sorry” wasn’t going to put my broken bones and smashed organs back together. Even worse, I hated myself, because I was just as guilty as the driver of the bulldozer…
Then I woke up shortly before sunrise, picked up my Kindle Fire tablet, and read this wonderful post:
(Comments are temporarily closed here while I try to finish my memoir, etc etc. Thank you for stopping by, and God bless. And please, visit the original awesome post and thank the beautiful author!)
I was spending time with someone recently who had it on her heart to question why, when we need it the most, our friends and family are seemingly nowhere to be found. Her face was contorted in a look of pain and she fought back to tears as she shared with me a bit of her history. She said she had been reaching out to others in an attempt to create a network of people and was experiencing difficulty in getting a connection.
I could only nod my head as my heart was asking the very same questions. It called to mind the cries of David’s heart in the Psalm 142:4-5:
Look to the right and see: there is none who takes notice of me; no refuge remains to me; no one cares for my soul. I cry to you, O Lord; I say, “You are my refuge, my portion…
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