Child of Divorce: Do Not Fear

I came across this article today.

http://www.desiringgod.org/articles/child-of-divorce-do-not-fear-marriage

My parents are divorced so it relates in that way, but most of this I hear ALL the time so I begin scrolling past all the “generic” truths about how I’m not bound to repeat the past, I’m free from generational sin, and blah blah blah (I’m being kind of dramatic), but then I got to the golden nugget of truth that God has really been rewiring in my brain these last 4 weeks: no matter how much healing I get, or truth I get, or wisdom I store up (which is good to do) – it does not protect me from suffering. There is no guarantee for me (or any of us) to walk into situations or circumstances (like marriage, parenting, or any other ministry) and avoid walking roads of suffering (including divorce). In fact Jesus promises that we will have MUCH trouble in this life. We are broken people.

I think more and more everyday God is helping me to let go of my fear of pain and suffering and helping me to walk knowing He is my confidence!

I am afraid of marriage. I think it sounds pretty awful. I think chaining yourself to someone and giving them the opportunity and power to ravage you makes me want to huddle in a ball in a dark corner of my heart. But, I also have a deep seeded desire and a great curiosity to discover what love and life is like in marriage. I want to understand Gods love more in that context, and I believe that is a righteous desire he has given me. If he didn’t, my instinct because of my fears would be to just sign the figurative contract to be single. For me I tend to think that no, it’s not so bad to never have loved at all than to have lost. Sorry Lord Tennyson.

So maybe God will lead me into marriage someday, maybe he won’t; but my spirit is becoming more and more convinced that I can’t say no simply out of fear of pain. And saying yes, for me, will mean yes despite or in light of the pain. Which will be a powerful commitment for me. I am not unaware of the potential suffering in store, I am more unaware of the potential blessings in store.

A dear sister (Christie) told me a few days ago, after a sermon on gender, marriage, and roles at a sister church we were visiting; that God gives us the strength in the times of suffering. God does not give us the strength to worry when it hasn’t yet arrived, but he offers us his confidence to be willing to be vulnerable.

So child of divorce (or any other circumstance), you do not have to fear marriage. Yes, but I may have titled the article: you don’t have to fear God leaving you in suffering though your heart and flesh fail or the other heart and flesh fails that you’ve bound yourself to. He, the Lord, is our strength, our confidence, our portion.

Forever.

The Cave.

I wrote this up sometime in the beginning of this year, but just came across it in my journal. It’s amazing to look back and remember the dark places I was in, walking through some valleys, but God knew where He was leading me and led me out… so this is called The Cave. (its spoken word kind of a thing).

 

My heart: it crumbles and cracks by its hardness. Life’s taken back.
Under it all, it’s screaming for some form of oxygen to breath; a deep, faint beating. 
Everyday passing by like time in rewind, I’m stuck going forward and living behind my days
as I watch rolling, rolling.

My heart: it bleeds and screams, but it’s falling on deaf ears. 
My own soul doesn’t even know why it’s so cold. My minds stopped caring or maybe just wanting to know.
It’s so deprived, but I’ve placed it outside of…

My mind: is so distant. I can’t walk in the right way.
Left and then right is all it can say. 
Feed your flesh and night overcomes day. 

Yet it’s not right. There’s a distant screaming inside.
Emotion, you say, could I define? No, my hearts being trapped, enclosed by my depraved mind. 
Yet, no regret for…

My soul: covered in webs, dust: old. It’s been forgotten, rotten, and cold. Cold like ice in a cave with no sun to melt it. 
Like a bat in light: any ounce is decay. 
It’s not right, and yet a distant scream echoes inside.

My heart: it still cries, all this time begging for my mind to be renewed in Christ
melting my soul to let go… I’m looking for something, something to know
that I’m still alive; that I’m not overcome to depravity of mind.

“Lay down and die” said the coldness of the night. This cave could keep my grave from time.
Though I can’t see: this caves too dark, 
there’s a warmness of light I see with my heart. 
It’s bleeding inside, though I can’t feel a thing, but the bleeding it seeps from the pores of my skin
taking all of my pride right out with it. 

Oh sweet weakness. Could I define its starting position? 
Cleanse me within with sweet glorious repetition. 
Though the stains of my blood can be seen by my brothers and sisters: Lord, I don’t deserve a glorious disposition
if You didn’t seek to love me, I’m overcome to all distorted inhibition. 
I cry “Leave me to be! Lay down and die”. Do not seek to restore my life. 

I’m hardly worth any of Your time.

The cave: so dark- so cold. It tells me I’m all alone. It tells me this is my home.
But there’s a distant screaming inside.
A faint heart beating, still clinging to life.
Will I lay down and die? Overcome by this cave when there still is The Way?

There’s a distant screaming, a deep faint beating. 
Everyday passing by like time in rewind.
I’m stuck going forward yet living behind,
but it too would be pride to just lay down and die.

So I guess I’ll learn that I have to abide in the light in the cave.
Remember the promise to me You made: You will never leave nor forsake.