The Aftermath

{If you missed the first chapter of my story, find it here: Beautiful Things: The Rescuer. Blessings, M}

When Dane knocked on the door that cold and rainy night, I was shocked. I didn't think he'd ever come back. Nervously I opened the door to find a shattered man. Physically, he was freezing and soaked. Emotionally he was exhausted, guilty, and hurt. Spiritually...he was in the darkest place he'd ever found himself. My heart broke, when I didn't think I had anything left to break. I silently moved aside as he entered our home...a place that was no longer a haven, but ground zero.

We didn't talk much that first night.

The next morning was Sunday. Easter Sunday. I asked Dane if he wanted to go to church. He did. As we sat down together, looking very much like a happy newlywed couple, I sadly realized we'd been faking it for a long time. With each other, our friends, even God. But that morning, my heart ripped open, raw and bleeding, I was more alive than ever before. My desperation for rescuing made my very soul ache. Jesus's sacrifice had never seemed so real. He knows what it's like to be wounded.

That weekend, we decided that we weren't giving up.

The implosion of my marriage wasn't spontaneous - it was the result  of two people living for themselves. Rebuilding wasn't simple. There was so much damage in so many areas that we worked slowly, carefully setting things to rights. I remember one evening, as we returned home after a particularly rough counseling session, I told Dane to go ahead inside without me. He obliged (possibly grateful for a few minutes away from his über-emotional wife). After he left, a dam that had been straining against a flood of anger and pain broke. As I sobbed out my frustration and disappointment, I asked the question I had been wanting to ask for weeks. "Please, can't I just leave him?" 

"No."

Well. That got my attention. I'd never heard God speak before.

I had a decision to make: was I going to go through the motions and meet my husband halfway, or could I let go of my self and my expectations and my pride...and give not fifty, but one hundred percent of myself to our relationship?

The next day I sunk into our couch with my coffee and my Bible to continue my study of Romans. I found a verse that has become a part of who I am:

"Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts." Romans 5:3-5

I had a decision to make. I could let this suffering, this intense pain of betrayal and rejection teach me, or I could let it define me. By Grace alone, I chose to learn. Because even though I didn't trust my husband, I trusted God. For some reason, He had allowed this to be part of my story.

Over the next year, Dane and I allowed God to redeem our marriage. A lot of people have asked me what that actually looked like. We went to 6 weeks of intense marriage counseling. We attended Family Life's Weekend to Remember, which I heartily recommended for ANY couple - newlywed, oldlywed, healthy, unhealthy - in fact I'd love to attend again now that we're not a hot mess. We joined a life group. We spent hours conversing honestly with our best friends (love you James and Lynne!). We dove into Scripture. We spent hours talking about tough stuff, but also about fun, silly stuff. Basically...we got real.

Slowly, Dane rebuilt my demolished trust. We fixed the foundation - the fundamental issues that allowed our relationship to crack and crumble so quickly - and started over. I realize this isn't a revolutionary concept, but until I lived it, I didn't get it: marriage isn't about me. It's not about my husband either. It's about God using two imperfect people to demonstrate perfect love, and to bring Him glory. I wish that we had known that in the beginning, but looking back, I'm thankful that where we were broken, we are strong. Where there was confusion and anger, we have peace. Where I despaired, there is joy. 

Hope does not disappoint...