COURAGE, BRAVEHEART

Today was a tough day. A really tough day. A sh*t hit the fan and I’m pretty sure it broke it irreparably, kinda day.

It’s my husband’s 34th birthday and the day started off well. Picture this – we are sitting at a Pinterest worthy table, eating a perfectly made from scratch french toast (by yours truly), complete with a blueberry mint maple syrup (yes, I have the recipe!) and a homemade sign that reads “Happy 34th Birthday Steve!” Oh, and flowers in a vase clipped straight from the backyard. Nbd. Seems picture perfect, right?

Fast forward to us sitting in a restaurant called Halal Guys, while my husband eats a beef gyro and just stares at me as I’m crying, begging him to fight for me and our marriage.

• Sidenote: We’ve been separated coming up on a year and are doing a marriage intensive in a couple of weeks that feels like it’s going to determine our entire future. So to say we’re both a little on edge is an understatement.

Anyway back to me crying and begging. And at the end of our conversation, chock-full of hurtful things, I decided I wasn’t going to go to dinner with him on his birthday after all (gasp!). I drove off in a separate car while bawling my eyes out, and I immediately called my sister, claiming “I can’t do this anymore.”

So instead of a BBQ dinner, complete with individual homemade cake jars, I sat on the sofa with my sister, eating homemade pizza, while sharing a bottle of wine and watching multiple rom-coms to somehow numb myself from all the hurt and pain. It worked for a little while.

Until my sister went to bed. And then all I could hear were the sounds of the occasional siren going by, the lull of the dryer, and my racing thoughts. So I decided to sit down and write.

And what I feel is…

Heartbroken.

There’s no better word to describe it. Webster’s dictionary defines heartbroken as: A person suffering from overwhelming distress, grief, or disappointment. Anguished, devastated, broken-hearted, heavy-hearted, grieving, crushed, shattered, desolate, inconsolable, despondent.

Yep. That’s me. Each and every one of those things.

I have been married to my husband for ten years this December. We dated for four years prior to us getting married. That’s fourteen years total. That’s a long time. Full of memories. Families merged. Friendships built. Joyous occasions celebrated. Disappointments shared. Struggles endured. Tears cried. Mostly my tears, but Steve’s on occasion. So much invested in fourteen years.

And all of those things are normal things. Good things. When they are shared.

Memories. Family. Friendships. Joyous occasions. Even the disappointments, struggles, and tears are good and positive if they are truly shared and if they result in bringing you closer to one another. Sadly, that hasn’t been our story.

The tough or difficult memories far outweigh the good or positive ones. His family has always been tough on me, and he doesn’t want to accept mine. The friendships we made together are being split apart during this whole process – after all, I guess people have to choose sides. The joyous occasions feel like far distant memories that are almost out of reach, and the disappointments, struggles, and tears have been endless, with a finger of blame always being pointed to identify who the responsible party is. It constantly feels like I’m fighting a losing battle, playing mental chess that I’ll never win, and that no matter what I do or how well I do it, it’s never good enough.

And as you can imagine, it is exhausting. And heartbreaking.

Because in all of this I feel alone. I feel unknown. I feel misunderstood. I feel like the character of my being is constantly being called into question by my own husband of more than a decade. And you what what? That feels scary.

You know what I want? I want him to rush over here. To break down the door and tell me that he’s sorry. That he loves me more than all of this stuff and all of this fighting, and that we will get through it together. That he is my safe place. The person I can trust the most. I want him to wrap his arms around me and kiss my tears away and tell me that everything is going to be okay.

Be he won’t. He can’t. His pride won’t let him. Or he’s actually incapable. And he’s losing me and doesn’t even seem to care. Or maybe he doesn’t know how to care. Either way, it’s not getting us what we want, which is each other. And to me, that feels devastating. Like a gaping wound left in me. The greatest loss. I have told him what I need. And it doesn’t change anything. A YEAR. Nothing has changed in a year. And it feels like the grief of it all is crushing me wide open. I am shattered into a million tiny pieces on the ground, and before he knows it, those pieces are going to be particles taken by the wind. And he won’t be able to get them back.

But in the midst of all of the brokenness of my heart, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. A promise.

• PSALM 34:18 says, “The LORD is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.”
• PSALM 147:3 says, “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”
• ISAIAH 61:1b says, “The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is upon me, for He has sent me to comfort the brokenhearted and to proclaim that captives will be released and prisoners will be freed.”

Ellie Holcomb’s album, RED SEA ROAD, has been a God-send for me this year. If you don’t have it, do yourself a huge favor and get it. It has spoken so much truth to me.

• Another Sidenote: I LOVE Ellie Holcomb. And I separately LOVE Drew Holcomb and the Neighbors. And y’all, when I found out they were married (I’m slow, I know). My mind exploded!!! What an insanely talented duo!

Anyway, when I think about being brokenhearted, Ellie’s song, HE WILL, plays over and over in my head. Here are some of the lyrics:

Heaven came and kissed the earth
Prophets long ago foretold His birth
He became the living word
To show the human heart its worth, oh-oh-oh-ohh

Whether I’m in want or plenty
Whether I’m in health or ill
Our God promises His children
He will, He will

He’ll bind up the brokenhearted
Oh He will, oh He will
He’ll set captives free from darkness
Oh He will, oh He will
He’ll breathe hope into the hopeless
Help a restless soul be still
Oh-ohh, oh-ohh
He will, He will

He’ll give beauty for our ashes
He’ll restore the oil of gladness
We will praise Him through our sadness
Until the promise is fulfilled
Oh-oh-ohh, oh-oh-ohh
He will, He will

He’ll bind up the brokenhearted
Oh He will, oh He will
He’ll set captives free from darkness
Oh He will, oh He will
He’ll breathe hope into the hopeless
Help a restless soul be still
Oh-ohh, oh-ohh
He will, He will
Oh-oh-ohh, oh-oh-ohh
He will, He will

So in all of this hurt and heartbreak, there is HOPE. Hope that the Lord will bind up the broken places of my heart. Hope that he will set my crushed spirit free from the dark place it has been kept for years. Hope that He has a plan for my life and that my restless heart will be stilled by the peace of His holy spirit. Hope that joy and gladness will be restored to me. Hope that all His promises will be fulfilled. And hope that through all of my grief and heartbreak, I will praise Him still. There is good news and for that I am grateful.

So cheers, Steve. Happy 34th Birthday! I hope you enjoyed the BBQ and cake jars as much as I enjoyed the pizza, wine, and rom coms.