Today I feel lonely for what seems the first time in years. The loneliness is so much deeper than ever before though. Before Kip's alcoholism and rage took over, he really was a supportive, fun, God fearing, humble man...and had been my very best friend for a dozen years.
He completed me. He knew when to make me laugh because I was taking events (or myself) too seriously. He knew when I needed one of our patented "hide in me" hugs. He also demonstrated tender leadership by knowing when to ask me to simplify...because I often let things get too complex and overextend myself (I still do) He loved the creativity, tenderness and depth that I added to his world, and said that I kept him grounded...but I think it was the other way around. Knowing I felt less than what a good Southern wife should be, he even bragged on my Hamburger Helper prep skills to his aspiring foodie mama. (Ok, he wasn't perfect...)
There's a certain numbness in the aftermath of trauma. I noticed when it wore off after my crash last February, and I'm noticing it now. The trauma of having to leave the hope of my best friend restored was almost more devistating than having him turn on me as he did. My numbness is wearing off and I'm feeing a little (maybe more than a little) empty.
Hope makes living possible.
Hope, we're told in Romans, does not disappoint. Hope is what kept me going when the going got very painful. During the ripping apart of our marriage, I held onto this Romans passage just as tightly as I had during every other trial I had ever been through.
Romans 5:3-5
Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God 's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.
I think a lot of my healing has been in redefining where I put my hope. In his tender mercy He let me be numb for a time of healing. Losing hope was harder than losing Kip. He also let me be blind to my loneliness while I healed. He even let me self anesthetize with ice cream so I would humbly see how I choose to sin in the same way Kip did, and also so I would be able to recognize how deep the roots of idolatry have been entangled in my heart for most of my life.
Which brings me back to today's revelation. I'm lonly. Tapioca pudding didn't make it better. Net Flix didn't make it better. Mimicking Abba in creating a pretty (and functional) guitar strap didn't help, no matter how many likes I got on Facebook or Instagram. Last week, I spent my heart loving on my students and their parents. I even tried to work on being more faithful and diligent in attempting to perfect difficult (for me) tasks. Godly or innocuously ok pursuits (except for the slothfulness and gluttony, right?)
But my focus wasn't on God himself. I was spending all my time and energy serving the created rather than my first love, the Creator.
Funny how this was the song I worked on playing all day today...and the lyrics didn't hit me until just now.
Coming back (again) to my First Love, simply because He's truly what my heart hopes for, and... He's my world. ❤️
And then there's the old hymn verse that reminds me "my hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness...on Christ (my first love) the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand,
...all other ground is sinking sand.
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