A lesson in leaving..

One year. That is how long I was in an abusive relationship. In that short year I became a shell of my former self. I learned to take the blame for every single thing. I learned to apologize when he messed up. I learned to always look up in terror if my phone rang. Even though it was only my mom. Especially if it was my mom. I could write a novel about all the things that changed in me during that relationship. You know what I hate the most though? That I’ve been happily married for almost 5 years, together 8, two beautiful children, and yet I still get scared. Scared that if I raise my voice in a disagreement that his hands will smash against my face. Scared that if a friend wants to hang out that I shouldn’t even ask because I won’t be allowed to because I’m lying and just want to go have sex with 27 men. Scared that if my phone accidentally plays a loud video and wakes him up he will drag me down the hall by my hair.
My husband has never once, not even for a second, given me a reason to be scared of any of that. But my past has. And I hate that I still can’t just truly relax and enjoy my happiness because of what some jackhole did 14 years ago, for only 1 year...


Leave. Run. Get help. Therapy. All of it. Don’t let someone destroy you  in the name of “love”. It’s not love. It’s control. You deserve better. There is better. And if I can promise you one thing, it is that it will not get better. They will not change because they promised they will. What started as a slap will turn into a punch and then that will turn into a gun down your throat begging you not to keep doing this to him. You can’t help them. You can’t fix them. But you can save yourself. You can be helped and you can be fixed. You just have to be the strongest you’ve ever been and walk out that door for the last time.

Unconditional Love.

My dad said something in his sermon this morning that has been on my mind all day. I haven’t written here in awhile because there has been so much going on, but I’m pretty sure this will take a minute to get all of my thoughts out. 

I was so proud of my dad. He and I don’t always see eye to eye on things. It’s actually become enjoyable to go back and forth with him on so many controversial topics. I am a strong woman with strong opinions that are based on my own life experiences. I will go toe to toe with anyone, but my dad and I have only recently learned how to do this without becoming aggravated or upset. I think the reason is because I finally learned how to share my thoughts while still being respectful. We have had some wonderful conversations since then. 

This morning he brought up the topic of late term abortions. I instantly got nervous. What was he going to say? How would he respond to this, from the pulpit? I was surprised and proud, so very proud of my dad in this moment. Now I am paraphrasing, and I hope I say it right, but he made an appeal to Christians. He asked that we remember to love as Christ loved. Forgive as God forgave us. We’ve all heard that right? But he went on to wonder how many abortions could have been prevented if these young women were not scared of disappointing their Christian parents. The fear, the shame and embarrassment, the condemnation that would be placed on these girls that was too much to bear so they tried to do whatever they could to prevent that. He was not saying this was why everyone chooses an abortion. Obviously it’s not. I think he was simply saying as Christians that we need to make sure we aren’t part of the problem. 

If we get too caught up with rules and religion we can miss the opportunity to show grace and love. Just because you don’t think something is right or holy or what God wants, is absolutely no justification to treat a person badly or push them away or as some parents do, shun them. This applies to so many things that are “biblical” that I see people do. 

I have given my parents every reason and opportunity to “shun” me. From the choices I made to the people I’ve dated, even the way I’ve treated them. 

Not once, not one single time in my entire life have I felt like they didn’t love me unconditionally. My dad is a pastor. I have embarrassed him in ways that I can never apologize enough for. When I got divorced and was dating a woman I walked hand in hand with into his southern baptist church and sat in the front row. Not once did he condemn me. Not once did he tell me to leave. He hugged my neck and said he was glad to see me. 

I am not naive enough to think that wasn’t hard for him. Of course it was. But he showed me the love of our Heavenly Father because that is what we are called to do. If I would have been rejected, would I have ever wanted to cultivate a relationship with Jesus? Much less ever go to church again or even be open to hearing anything about God’s so called love when my own parents didn’t show me that love? 

I also urge you to remember as Christians we are the ones that are to be held to a biblical standard, but until someone decides to follow Christ, our standards or rules or expectations don’t apply to them. If you are only focusing on sharing God’s rules and not God’s love, how will you ever reach anyone for the Kingdom of Heaven? And isn’t that what we are all called to be doing?