real stability

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photo credit: n. leblanc



while he was in jail, she was ordered to move away from him.

she moved in with a couple who needed extra income.

the wife was absent from the interview.

the husband said it would be fine. he was not truthful.

it was not fine.

the wife despised her. would not speak to her. did not want her in the kitchen. did not want her in the house at all. ugh.

she stayed in her room. her secret place. it was safe. it was peaceful.

there were issues.

the husband was afraid of the wife. the wife was angry, jealous. it was a mess. she prayed for them.

when they thought their money issues were resolved, they asked her to move out.

she began to look for a new place.

then they asked her to stay. she said no.

they reduced the rent. she stayed.

they asked her to leave again. she prepared to move.

roller coaster.

they asked her to stay again. they reduced the rent more.

she stayed again, buying time.

she knew she had to move.

she tried talking to him about moving back in together. he responded in defensive anger to avoid the topic. he would not commit. there it was.

he agreed to help her move.

on move day, he was unpleasant, surly, unhelpful, complaining. ugh.

these were common denominators whenever she asked anything of him.

he felt guilty and he did not like it.

it took more and more energy to be around him.

at the end of move day, he went off on her. loudly. always loudly.

it didn’t matter what it was. it just made her so tired.

she sobbed in exhaustion and frustration.

papa god said, “he is not worthy of you yet.”

she nodded her head in agreement.

he was right.

she knew he was her real stability.

it was enough.

(copyright 2016 jane doe)

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mercy

picking up every shattered piece seemed impossible.

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photo credit: pixabay

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

where to begin. so many questions. uncertainty. fear.

god. he knew what was needed.

he had the plan before she knew she needed one.

worship was needed. worship was first. worship would carry her through this storm.

god sent a gift. a friend with concert tickets. worship concert tickets.

that friend showed up on time. they went. they worshipped.

god was still good, still on the throne. he still loved her. he still loved him

then came the grand jury. then came reduced charges. 30 days. restraining order.

then came feelings. anger. betrayal. loneliness. irritation.

why was the sentence so short?

why did she have to be the one to move?

and god help her. she missed him, that man who was really in there.

god. he showed her. mercy triumphs over judgment.

her heart shifted. the question came. what would she want for herself?

mercy.

he called her after 30 days in jail.

he broke the restraining order.

she went lower in humility. ‘father?’ she asked.

‘mercy,’ god said.

she did not turn him in.

mercy.

Definitions of mercy:

a: compassion or forbearance shown especially to an offender or to one subject to one’s power; also : lenient or compassionate treatment <begged for mercy>

Source: Meriam-Webster Online Dictionary

b: compassion for the miserable. Its object is misery. By the atoning sacrifice of Christ a way is open for the exercise of mercy towards the sons of men, in harmony with the demands of truth and righteousness ( Genesis 19:19 ; Exodus 20:6 ; Exodus 34:6 Exodus 34:7 ; Psalms 85:10 ; Psalms 86:15 Psalms 86:16 ). In Christ mercy and truth meet together. Mercy is also a Christian grace ( Matthew 5:7 ; 18:33-35 ).

Source: Easton’s Bible Dictionary

(copyright 2016 jane doe)

 

the dark room and the darkroom

 

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photo credit: pixabay

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

this place was a dark room, and a darkroom.

she was afraid of the dark as a child.

now, it was the world she lived in.

she knew he wasn’t the enemy.

she knew where the trouble came from.

his demons liked the dark room, the isolation.

she knew what corners they lived in.

they shrank back when she walked by.

she knew jesus was here, too.

he lived in her heart.

spirit brought her verses as she prayed in tongues.

“no weapon formed against you will prosper.”

“greater is he that is in you than he that is in the world.”

“he is delivered out of the hand of the enemy by the blood of jesus.”

now was no time to quit.

in her weakness, he was forte.

light was developing in the dark room.

(copyright 2016 jane doe)

 

 

 

 

 

the wind at her back

 

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photo credit: pixabay

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

silence fell between them. she sensed his anger.

once again, he got up out of bed in silence. In silence, he dressed and in silence, he walked out to the living room.

this time, something had to be different. their separation hadn’t changed anything. he was content. he didn’t have to do anything different. he hadn’t made room for her in his life. he didn’t care for her heart and she had given it all. the status quo was beyond painful, and now, unsustainable.

she needed to speak this time, to stand up for herself.

courage came. she steadied her voice and spoke: “i don’t feel very loved when you leave the room when we have things to sort out.” her words were strong, gentle and calm.

there, she’d said it. lying in bed, she waited for a response, hopeful. it came, but not the one she’d desired.

that mocking spirit rose up in him. it spoke out loud, addressing the dog. “did you hear that, rascal? she doesn’t feel loved.”

she lay in the bed, drawing the covers up closer around her. she waited, giving him time and a wide berth to do the right thing.

minutes later, she heard him get up from the couch. he walked back into the bedroom and lay down again on the other side of the bed. it might have been miles for the chill she felt from him.

she waited. it was his move now, not hers. not anymore. she waited for him to move closer to her, to invite her into his arms.

she waited for him to say he was sorry this one time. it didn’t come.

instead, he got up in silence and walked back out to the living room. he sat down in the same place on the couch.

waiting again, she gave him more time to choose well, to make a different choice. it didn’t come. the game was on. she wasn’t playing.

she got up and dressed. refusing to give in to anger, frustration or accusations, she walked to the living room, too.

walking to the door, she unlocked the door handle and deadbolt. she turned around, going to the kitchen to gather the items she’d purchased earlier.

her arms full, she walked to the middle of the room and looked at him with love in her eyes. holding back tears, she asked him, “Is there anything you’d like to say to me before i walk out the door?” she hoped, praying for a different outcome than the familiar one that had played so often.

he was on his feet now as she spoke, going toward the door. his anger was no longer contained. “no, I think you’ve said enough for both of us.” he had opened the door, but not as a courtesy. he was throwing her out without words. again.

she looked at him, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze.

she felt no fear, just great sadness as she walked over the threshold of the door. the wind of the slamming door blew across her back.

immediately, she heard papa speak in her heart. “now, he must come to you.”

there would be no going back now. he had choices to make.

(copyright 2016 jane doe)