How Great Thou Part

I spent plenty of time feeling sorry for myself.

Why my marriage? Why my family? Why is history repeating itself? Why are my greatest fears coming true? Why me?

It is wasted time playing the victim. Albeit, human nature.

I refer to it as fighting God.

I couldn’t understand why a dream as simple as keeping my family together was too great to come true. I will admit that I am seldom moved to tears these days yet typing the aforementioned sentence made me fight them back. Like an old friend, I had sworn off knocking at my door.
Do not be a victim.

Do not make the mistake that I temporarily made.

Do not fight God.

Divorce is a horrific, unwanted guest in our lives. However, every life is different. Every person is meant to walk something unique. A large, intricate puzzle that allows us to suffer different things to enable us to ease the suffering of another.

I say that the days I fought God and played the victim were undoubtedly the unhappiest days I have ever known.

Victims are not happy people. Victims believe their lives are out of their control. That the world is happening to them and they are powerless. Victims lack faith.

Devout in my faith my entire life…I lost sight of it in my misery.

A victim fights God.

A person of faith fights through the pain in order to glimpse what God has waiting for them on the other side of it.

I just wanted to be married. I just wanted that extraordinary simple thing in life.

I knew many marriages weren’t perfect. It did not matter to me. I never believed life was meant to be perfection. I myself embraced being raised by a single parent.

Looking back, I find it funny…

I was proud of my less than perfect and traditional start in my own family life.
Yet somehow I believed remaining married would provide me the perfect life.

I was wrong about myself. I hadn’t truly embraced imperfection.

I was instead, doing what so many of us do. I was attempting to correct the imperfections of my youth as an adult. I was trying to perfect things. I was righting old wrongs. My parents hadn’t stayed married but I somehow would.

I was in denial.

I was not willing to embrace the faith that helped me fight through pain in the past.

I was playing the victim.

I was busy fighting God.

While God was waiting for me…on the other side of it.

(Photos courtesy of Pexels)
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