Since my last post, I've had a couple of weeks to get some healing. I called what happened to me a couple weeks ago a nervous breakdown, but it wasn't, at all. It was grief. Pure overwhelming grief. God put me right there for a very good reason. He was saying, "Jenna, it's time to let all of this go. It's time to move on. You've held it together and I've let you, but trust me and know - it's time to move on with your life."
I knew there would come a point when all of the sudden things would just be...ok. I would stop caring about what he was doing and I would stop feeling pain when I thought about him. I say all of the sudden - but it's really a process almost a year in the making. But it's like, you feel pain, pain, pain, then suddenly....less pain. Then, hardly anything at all.
That's what's happened to me this week. I can say that I've forgiven him for what he's done. I can say that I don't care what choices he is making in his life. I can say that I can actually pray for him without a feeling of anger welling up in the pit of my stomach.
Ah, sweet relief. The sweet relief of officially giving it over to God and the realization that my ex-husband's problems...are no longer my problems. My ex-husband's burdens...are no longer my burdens. My ex-husband's choices....are no longer mine to stress and worry over.
With all of that relief came the ability to finally make rational decisions about things I'd been afraid to let go of - like the house. Let's face it - I know many people were waiting for me to get to the point when I could just let the house go. It's too big and it's too full of ghosts from a past I really don't want to live with anymore.
The other thing I was finally able to let go of was Avery, when it wasn't my time to have her. I think that's the hardest part of divorce is the transition between "we were her parents together and were on the same team" to "now we are two separate people who seem to have different ways of raising our child." I wasn't prepared for that change, but it happened and it took me a long time to accept. I can't control what happens in his house. I can't control what he says or what he does. I can control what I say and what I do. I was so afraid of her being severely and permanently traumatized by all of this that I allowed my fear to continue involving me in things that simply weren't my business to be involved in. And I forgot the most important part of that equation - God gave her ME as her mother. And I'm a pretty fierce momma, if I do say so myself. And you know what? Avery knows that too. I see it in her, every day. I'm her stability. I'm her touchstone. I'm her example. She looks to me in so many things of how to act, how to treat people, how to handle herself.
I forgot that my job isn't to shield her from pain. Oh, how hard that is to accept as parents. That's not our job. Our job is to raise little people to grow into adults who know how to live in all types of circumstances, including painful ones. Our job is to model behavior of a well-rounded person, capable of encountering obstacles and pain and having the coping abilities to face those things, head on, deal with them, and get on with it. Our job is to model Christ, to show we can lean on Him in times of trouble, to use our abilities He gave us to deal with our problems and still be able to live our lives, without our circumstances controlling us. When you are doing those things, and they learn how to cope, then they will end up being stronger adults capable of withstanding life's disappointments. I pitied my daughter, for a long time. It sucks that she has to deal with some of the things she has to deal with. But I can't pity her anymore- I can teach her. Because I see in her a very strong, very capable, very mature little girl who will be just fine. No, she will be more than fine. She will thrive. I don't teach her to get over her feelings. I teach her to feel her feelings. Strong women don't push their feelings down deep. Strong women say, "I'm weak today." They seek comfort and they admit when they are struggling. And then when it's time, they move past with their heads held high. Strong women can still be sad. And heartbroken. And angry. Strong women don't pretend like things are fine - when things aren't fine. Strong women admit their struggles, to themselves and to God. He broke my heart - and that's OK. I don't have to pretend like what he did didn't hurt me. It did hurt me. But guess what - I dealt with the messy feelings and now, I'm OK.
She asks me a lot of questions lately. She'll say, "Mom, can I ask you something?" "Of course!" I reply. "Are you sad? About you and dad?" "You know sweetie, I was sad for a long time. I think I'll always be kind of sad that our family doesn't look the same. But I'm not sad as much anymore." "Hmm." She'll say, in thought.
"Mom, can I ask you something?" "Sure can!' I say. "Do you still love dad?" "Baby, I'll always love dad because he gave me you! But I don't love him like a husband anymore, I just love him as a person." "Hmm."
"Mom, can I ask you something?" "Fire away, kiddo!" "Why did dad choose to leave?" "Hmm. That's a hard one to answer. Have you ever asked him?" "No." "Well, I know what whatever his reasons were, they had absolutely nothing to do with you. He loves you and you love him, and that will never change. Avery, you know that we can still love our family, even if they do things we don't like, right?" "Yes of course!" "Good," I say.
We have these exchanges all the time. Sometimes, they are just random things that pop out of her mouth at the weirdest times. But I love that even as a 7 year old, she knows she can ask me questions and that I will be honest with her and that my responses show her that whatever she is feeling, which is where these questions are coming from, is OK and we will get through this.
It's a good day today. I have a showing on my house today. I have some meetings with friends I'm looking forward to. It's a good day.
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