it was easy in the beginning. new, fresh, delightful.
fun adventures appeared around every corner as they took back pieces of their lives together.
two are better than one.
it wasn’t long after the new beginning that the real work began. the hard work of loving, the daily choice to love this day, then the next. and the one after that, too.
the choice to choose each other when it was hard. and it got hard.
open wounds surfaced quickly. father wanted to touch those places with his love.
once fully healed, always fully healed.
at first, father had her send emails with his words and direction. they remained unopened. topic avoided.
she’d brought it up in conversation, once, then twice. had there been a third time?
she framed it so he could see the help available to him.
when the toxicity spilled out again, she hit it head on. it was making her sick inside now. it had to be done.
she told him she was there for support in every good way, just like before.
she also brought him wise counsel with a loving boundary.
without fanfare or drama, she asked him to stop calling the other woman a bitch in their conversations.
“when you call her a bitch, it’s releasing word swords tipped with poison into the atmosphere. i don’t need to be on the receiving end of those words.”
she advised him his words were also messing with something he wanted done. his words were working against him and for the enemy.
bless. do not curse.
there was more.
“and although you tell me you’re not holding a grudge, your words tell a different story.yes, you need to heal. i get that. but spewing the words out shows what’s still in your heart.”
“keep forgiving until you no longer want to call her names. bless her when the enemy tempts you to curse her. no matter her sins or anyone else’s, it is never good to side with the accuser of the brethren.”
“i love you.”
edit. read out loud again.
push the send button.
(copyright 2017 jane doe)