Trying New Things

One of my husband’s favorite tactics is to pull me away whenever I begin to put down roots. It was the impetus for leaving one church in Kentucky and for begging me to leave another. It was the reason I moved to Kentucky when we were dating, and the reason he moved our whole family to Winston. Each time I start to feel like I might belong, he wants to leave.

God has blessed me profoundly in each of those moves, but He’s also revealed this as my husband’s strategy. Because of this realization, I’ve staunchly refused to leave Winston, in spite of the wreckage he’s made of his career. I would leave if God impressed upon me that I should…but He has not. Instead, he’s opened my eyes to the way James destabilizes my life in order to make me feel like I have to rely on him. God has also shown me how much I doubt my own ability to hear His voice…and how important it is for me to listen to Him alone.

Today was yet another fight about leaving…this time about leaving our church. Again. He senses an opportunity to snatch me away, to make me feel like my friendships are shaky, to weaken my resolve. Today, he announced that it was time to try another church, and I told him I would not.

His response? “You just don’t like change. Every time I want to do something new, you kick and scream and drag your feet. You have no sense of adventure. When was the last time you did anything new?”

And that got me thinking. What have I done in the last two years, since his poor decisions shattered our lives? Shattered us?

Well, on the surface, I’ve started doing Barre and Body Pump classes at the Y. Workout classes are way outside my comfort zone. I took on a new role as a tutor in our homeschool middle school program – complete with Latin and Logic, which absolutely blow my mind. (Both of them.) I took on a role as the curriculum coordinator in our church children’s ministry. I started going to regular counseling appointments to address pervasive struggles that have marred my life for years. I’ve stepped into new roles in my work life, with different clients and different jobs. I found a new running partner, and learned to run early in the morning on scary country roads.

Most of those things took a lot of gumption, and frankly, I didn’t want to do some of them. But they are only symptoms of deeper, systemic change.

I learned to not freak out about how much money I bring in each month. I started trusting God as my protector and provider, and affirmed that each time panic crept in. I started really, actually forgiving – by mentally handing the burden of unforgiveness back to God each time I noticed myself mentally avenging the wrong. I started sitting in the uncomfortable teachings in the Bible and letting God show me His truth. I took a long, painful look backward to admit and confess my sin of taking a blessing instead of trusting God to provide in His time. I obeyed the little nudges from God to do scary things, like making a really big monetary gift to fulfill a commitment, and stepping out in faith the tell the truth about our marriage. I began trying to accept my value in Christ, instead of constantly trying to prove my worth. When James ended yet another job, I didn’t freak out or change my habits; I also didn’t try to counsel, advise, or fix. I kept my eyes fixed on God as my protector and provider.

I started reading through the whole Bible, with big passages every day. I started keeping a record of the prayers I pray, and carving out quiet time in the morning to listen to God. I starting honestly examining what God – not the church – has to say about divorce in a situation like this. I started thinking about a future that doesn’t involve constant fear, about a marriage that isn’t cruel and destructive. I read about Abigail and Nabal, and learned that God cares about women who love him, not just men who don’t.

Frankly, I’ve done a lot of new things…in fact, I’d be willing to argue that I’m a whole new person. The harm he caused us has been an impetus for good. God is funny like that.