#myproject41 3/365: He Redeems (Part 2)

November 17, 2008. I'll never forget that night. It's replayed in my mind thousands of times.

Jasper and I came home from my work to find all of my then-husband's belongings in bags on the porch. My heart dropped into my stomach and I knew instantly what was happening. Our marriage had been on the rocks for a few years now, but this wasn't what I wanted. 

I told Jasper to go in the house and I ran to the apartment park to cry and text a friend and panic before I went inside.

When I finally did, palms sweating, stomach in knots, we walked into our bathroom and closed the door. He was silent, as usual. I wasn't, as usual. 

"We haven't tried everything," I pleaded. "Counseling? Something? Anything? Please don't just throw 11 years away!"

"I don't want to be standing here in another 11 years with you asking me not to throw 22 years away," he replied, void of tone. 

Eventually I woke up to the fact that he had long since given up. 

It took me another painful month of begging him to reconsider, apologizing, writing letters, sending texts, praying, before I finally realized that he didn't mean it when he said we'd work on "us" after we got ourselves right with God again. 

I drove the kids to see him in Portland for Christmas. He had already taken his ring off. 

It would take me almost an entire year to do that.

I get real attached to dates. So once I realized that we were really over, but he wasn't going to be the one to make it official, I ended up filing for divorce on our 9 year wedding anniversary. Not to be cold, but to minimize the painful dates for me to remember.

It wasn't final until our 10th anniversary, when I showed up at court alone and had to call him on his cell to get verbal approval since he'd forgotten to sign part of the paperwork.

July 28th, 2010. It should've been our 10 year anniversary. I'd dreamed of a big party for a long time. Instead I walked, zombie-like, through downtown Seattle, my new friend Tammy by my side. I was shocked to find people still running errands, cars still on the go. How could people just keep going about their business? Didn't they know my world had just ended? Couldn't they feel my agony?

It's funny what you can get accustomed to when you need to. I suppose I'm grateful we were created to be resilient in that way. 

I knew now I needed Jesus more than ever. And I wanted to "be single" well. I created a little motto for myself, "Live in a way that I can respect myself in the morning."

I'll confess now I didn't always live that way. Sometimes the loneliness and the temptation to find comfort in places other than Jesus was too strong for me.

But I tried.

And I knew He was with me. He proved that over and over.

I can't tell you how many times He showed up for me in amazing ways, tangible ways. It's because of my years alone with Him that one of my favorite prayers for my Single Mama and other hurting lady friends is that they'd experience Him in a tangible way, too.

I asked Him to romance me. Does that seem strange? I just knew it's what I needed at the time, it's what I ached for. To be reminded that my life wasn't over. That there was truly life after divorce. That I hadn't ruined my one chance. That I wasn't ruined myself. That I wouldn't be alone forever, because I didn't know if I could stand that. And being alone forever felt entirely possible.

One morning, after asking that of Him, I showed up to work and there was a bouquet of flowers on my desk that wasn't there before. No name attached. Just, "You are loved."

Another day, $500 showed up in my work mailbox, with a note, "From Jesus."

For a few months I existed on Diet Coke and coffee because my body just rejected food. After breaking a glass French press more than once, a surprise gift of a stainless steel one showed up at work, a gift from friends I hadn't seen in a decade.

On a particularly lonely and vulnerable feeling night, I confessed to Jesus that I just needed to be held. The next evening at church, an acquaintance guy-friend walked right up to me where I was serving coffee, and grabbed me in a giant bear hug without a word. When he finally let me go, he explained, "That was from Jesus," and walked off. (I still refer to him as my "Jesus Hug Guy".)

The night I finally broke down and took off my wedding ring, I sobbed. It felt so strange to have that finger naked now, yet another reminder of the brokenness and pain. I pulled out an old jewelry box to tuck my ring inside, and there, laying on the bottom of it staring up at me, was a beautiful square ring with tiny diamonds all around it. Engraved inside were the words, "I love you." To this day, no one else recognizes it or knows where it came from.

I was grateful for my part-time job. That place became my safe place, where I could hide from the pain and lose myself in the work, especially on weekends my kids were with their dad. Those were brutal. But while I was grateful for the job, it didn't pay a lot. I brought home about $1,800/mo and my rent - in the apartment my ex-husband and I had gotten together, planning to pay for it while we both worked - was $1,100/mo. The utilities for this place were somehow connected to my rent, even though I paid for them separately. So after a couple of months when I was behind on them - again - and received an eviction notice, I didn't know what to do. I'd already asked my church for help. I'd already asked my mom for help. The $600-some amount I was behind felt like a million. 

At the same time, I was in need of a bed for my son, who was sleeping on a super cheap, used twin sized mattress that wasn't even comfy for his thin frame. At the time, I had a surgery scheduled and my grandmother was going to come stay a week to care for my kids and I. She couldn't seep on that mattress. So I emailed my work community to see if anyone had a bigger mattress they could sell me for real cheap.

Two days later, I arrived to work to find a garbage bag full of sheets near my office door, and an envelope taped to my door. I went into the office and sat down, dragging the sheets with me. I ripped open the envelope and inside was a check for $1,000, with a note instructing me to go buy Jasper a brand new mattress, and please just return whatever I didn't use.

I was so grateful. Tearfully I emailed my gifter and thanked her. I asked her if she wouldn't mind if I paid my utility bills instead of getting the mattress? That felt more pressing at this point. She replied something along the lines of, "Please keep it all. Please buy Jasper a mattress and take care of your bills. I'm grateful to be able to give it!"

I found a new mattress and box spring for Jasper that weekend. And I had exactly enough left over to pay all my bills.

When it came time to spend my first Christmas without my kids, I was beside myself with grief. I didn't know how to do that, but I knew I couldn't spend it normally, as if they were there.  I decided the only thing that made sense to me was to go to Mexico, to The Mission, an orphanage for disabled children where I had spent a year as a teenager, where I had met my ex-husband. I had never spent a Christmas with the kiddos there but had always wanted to. And it felt right and poetic to go back to the place where I'd met him and redeem it.

I prayed and prayed about what to do. And while I was asking the Lord if this was the right thing, He led me to this verse: 

"Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? 
I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert." (Isaiah 43:19)

There was a van that went from the church that ran the orphanage at the time, delivering gifts to the kids. I made some calls and found out there was one seat left on that van, leaving from Medford, Oregon just before Christmas. I would need to get down there, and I would need $200 for hotel and gas.

I didn't have $200.

At church one morning, I was really convicted about the fact that I hadn't been tithing. Not because I thought I "had" to, but because I knew my heart followed my money, and I was having trouble trusting God. So I sat in my seat, looking at my checkbook (because I still used one at that point). My register showed me I had $30 until payday, which was still a couple weeks away (I got paid monthly, which is really hard). I also knew this church deposited checks immediately, so there would be no "floating" this check.

"Lord, I'm scared," I confessed to Him in my head. "I want to trust You. I know my situation isn't a surprise or a problem for You. So while this seems stupid on paper, I'm going to tithe $200 right now, and I need You to take care of me." I wrote the check, stuck it quickly in the offering basket, and took a deep breath.

Next morning at work, my boss' assistant came into my office and closed my door. Strange. She asked me how I was doing, did I need anything? Was there anything work could do to help? This hadn't happened before. So, I shared with her my plan to go spend Christmas in Mexico. I told her I needed $200 for the trip and didn't have it. She said she'd talk to our boss and let me know.

An hour later, she came back into my office with $200 worth of gas cards. "Will this work?" she asked. I assured her it would.

I went to Mexico that Christmas. I got to love on the kiddos I'd met as a 19 year old lost girl, now a 31 year old broken woman. I got to pour into others in a new way. I got to burn old love letters and pictures in a "refining" bonfire on the property, and my solo time with the Lord turned into a 2-hour group worship session. 

And somehow, for the first time ever, my check wasn't cashed before I was gifted more Christmas money to cover the funds I'd tithed.

So, I get attached to dates. November 17th had been a painful one for me, until a few years ago when my mom shared some fun news with me: my childhood best friend's mom was marrying my favorite high school teacher! And just last year, July 28, 2018, the Lord redeemed that date for me through a painful yet freeing conversation with my ex-husband. 

Time after time after time, the Lord redeems my pain. 

What you can't see right now - but maybe you assume - is that I am in tears. If I were to share these things with you in person, we'd probably both be crying. Sharing these stories reminds me every time of the Lord's love for me and how He's made that known in ways that undeniably tell me He sees me and He's in all this with me.

He was always there. He still is. He steps in. He shows up. He makes beauty where there once were ashes. I know these things are true because I have lived them.

During this snowstorm, I have been struck by how different my life is now.

I am married to a wonderful, caring, patient, generous man, who loves me and my kids as if they were his very own. We also have a darling little 5 year old together and this past week or so, my house has been full of cuddling and puzzles and family movie nights and fighting and eating food together and walks in the snow and sledding. 

Jesus is still here, of course. He is constant, loving, never-changing. But He's redeemed my life in the most beautiful ways. Ways I'd barely dare dream He would.

And He will do the same for you.

Xoxo.