It was the day I lost my innocence. A day that would put me on a path I did not choose, on a journey I did not want, and take me to a place I did not understand. Little did I know that the events of that day would define my life for days, months, and years to come. I should have been paying closer attention but I had ignored all the signs, and there had been signs, even some huge signs. But I didn’t know how to read “sign”. An innocent doesn’t by nature of their innocence. That lone day life became hard, different, confusing. Although the girl I was in those days, of which there was no replacing, had a human spirit that would fight back with untapped resilience. Yet, there was loss. She had been a gentle soul. I would often lament her disappearance. I’d wish for the days before her initiation, the days of naive trust and love.
Time would reveal other “initiated” members who entered that same door of pain.They also remember the day when pain became their companion, a companion unwelcome on all points yet joined to the very marrow. This is the real truth about pain, life never returns to the way it was “before”. For over twenty years it was painful, sucking the heart out of life. I take you back to that day in 1985, We’d been married four and a half years.
It was a lovely August day, a Sunday, normal in all respects. My husband left early that morning to go to work; the two children and I went to Grace Baptist Church in Chico, California. Then we came home. I opened the door and noticed a note on the table.
I held the note and began to read; the words sent a warm heat coursing from head to toe. I read it again, then a third time. My breath caught in short quickened gasps. “Oh no,” I sucked in a deep breath to give me strength. My thoughts were racing, my voice no longer audible. I leaned down to pick up LaVonne, placing her in the highchair. She looked so sweet in her frilly dress, her brown eyes flashing, much like her daddy’s. She was hungry, fussy. Tears gathered in my eyes and I swiped them away. Tears would have to wait. “Not now.” I picked up Joshua to sit him in his tot chair. He was chatty and cheerful, not aware of my distress. The children needed to be fed before I called anyone. Randy’s pickup truck was still parked where he usually parked it.
“Could this Sunday have started so normal?” “Could this be happening to me?” I put a simple meal together while my eyes were drawn back to the note, aware that now everything was different. Yes, there had been problems, ever since he told me he didn’t love me and had planned on leaving me. He didn’t leave that time, but wanted to. It was just over a year since, and I hoped we were better. I tried. I hoped. But it wasn’t enough. It had never been enough.
“Shaky, I feel shaky,” I thought as I turned from the room keeping the children in view. The phone on the wall waited just beyond me. I rehearsed to myself the words I would say. They sounded strange even to me. I dialed my parents. To tell them would be uncomfortable but I had it to do. It was the only thing I could do. “I must be calm. Don’t cry.” I willed myself to be brave. I heard the tremor in my voice as my words spilled out; too quick, too unclear.
“We’ll be right over.” I heard surprise mixed with concern in Mom’s and then Dad’s voice. How unreal it felt, like being in a dream. A repetitive thud was thumping a strident pattern in my chest. I tried to ignore its alarm. I needed to think. What should I be doing? His family, I must call them. They need to know.
It took a great effort to contain my tumbling thoughts, my emotions now competing for dominance. My mind ping-ponged as it slowed to make sense of what I now knew. The most recent event of the evening before came first to mind. It had struck me as rather odd and I had been hurt. We had dressed up for going out. I thought we looked good together, he in his black dress slacks and me in my burgundy summer dress. I had been rather nervous as I anticipated meeting his old friends from Oroville high school. I thought they would like me, at least I hoped so. I wanted to look my best. In the sultry night air, the other young couples looked lovely as they visited and caught up on the ten years of living since high school. I spoke to a few but soon found myself alone. They didn’t know me, of course. I waited for Randy to come over to introduce me but he seemed to have left me. “Where is he?” I glanced at my watch and tried to look at ease, like I belonged.
to be continued
That was just the beginning of the story. God took me on a long journey, where I made choices most people wouldn’t have but I did. I learned a lot about God’s mercy, God’s love, God’s joy and God’s peace. I learned how to bear, to suffer, to know God’s redeeming power, and to know loss, brokenness, and heartache and much more. I have to admit that sometimes I felt sorry for myself. I didn’t think I deserved the treatment I was suffering. And I also felt pain from the choices I had made. I took a journey that was different, difficult, and beautiful, for God had much to teach me, and I had much to learn. I’m thankful for what God taught me as I blazed a trail into the unknown. God is good.
More next week...
