Chapter Four
A few weeks later I was on my way to Samantha’s house. Something had to give. I felt as though my own prayers were bouncing off the celling and thumping me on the head. Though I knew it wasn’t true. My emotions seemed to block out my knowledge of truth.
The drive was quiet, as Javan had retreated into a shell after Jack had disappeared a few weeks ago. When I arrived, Samantha was waiting for me. After a quick hug, she sent Javan up to play with Michael. Emily came into the room with a wide smile and reached for Tristan. As Emily disappeared, Samantha pulled me into the kitchen and pointed to a barstool.
“Sit.”
I obeyed.
“Okay missy, I’ve got something to say to you. So you just sit there and listen.”
I nodded dumbly and rubbed my fingers over her countertop.
“What happened, Abby? What happened to your light? To your sparkle for life?
Don’t answer!” She pointed to me as I opened my mouth. “Just listen.” I nodded, and she eyed me before continuing. “Jack has done a number on you, it’s true, but here’s the truth of it honey. He can’t do anything to you without your permission.”
The confusion her words caused must have reflected on my face.
“I’ll repeat that. He, cannot, I repeat, can not do anything to you without your permission, including...” She raised a finger and held me in a solid gaze. “...steal your joy, your reason for living, or your faith. Only you have the power to give them up. Now.” She began to pace around the kitchen. “He can tempt you into thinking that he has power, but he doesn’t. Unless you give his words and actions power, they are the empty opinions of a lost man. You, love, have given him the power of God in your life. You have let him control your thoughts, your opinions, and the way your perceive life in general. Now.” She pointed her finger again at me.” Do not misunderstand me. He is
still your husband. You are to honor and respect him, regardless of if he deserves it or not. But you are not to adhere to his beliefs unless they directly contrast to the Word of God. And to God, to God, dear one...” She came around and placed her hand under my chin and lifted it so I’d look her in the eyes.
“To God you are priceless, worthy of love and beautiful. He loves you, created you, and is not pleased with your husband’s sin. But you are not responsible for his actions, but sure as springtime, you are responsible for yours. And He will, is, and already has given you the strength you need to get through this, one way or another. You will get through this, but how is up to you. Are you going to do this with his help? Or are you going to drift through it, loosing yourself in your grief, and emotionally abandoning your children in the process?”
“Emotionally abandoning my children! Do you have any idea what this is like? How I have been there for them? I’m all they have right now, and I’m not enough! I’m not enough for them, and I can’t do anything about it! I fail each day, and I’m supposed to just pick myself up, march on, and forget about all the pain and hurt and memories I have and, what?” I shouted through my angry tears. How dare she!
“Oh honey, you’re right. But you’re also wrong.”
“What?” I asked, confused once again.
“Yes, you’re right. You are not enough. Children need two parents, but the fact is
that, right now, your children don’t have both. That’s not your fault. It’s not something you can control.”
I know, but—“
“But God is. He is enough, and doesn’t He promise to be ‘a father to the fatherless?’”
“Yes.”
“Is it impossible for God to ever prove false or to lie?”
“Yes.” I spoke softly.
“Then you have everything you need. You do your best, and God will make up
the rest. He didn’t say you had to do it alone, love, and you are. You’re trying, and yes,
you’re failing because it’s not possible. But with God... with God all things are possible.”
She hugged me and began to pray over me, for my strength to not fail and for my children to, at a young age, learn to depend on God. By the time our visit was done, I knew I had turned a corner. Oh, I still felt the oppression of fear surrounding me, but it didn’t seep into my heart. The truth that I had not been able to believe now saturated my heart, and peace overwhelmed me. How I would need that peace over the next few days.
