My husband is the only guy I’ve ever dated. So I’ve never broken up with someone. Or been broken up with. But this year I experienced the devastating break-up of my marriage.
Niel's heart walked out first, when he chose to begin an affair with my friend that lasted a year and a half. The rest of him followed seven months ago when he told me he wants a divorce.
I've grieved so much loss this year. Of my husband. My marriage. My identity. My dreams. I've bounced between denial, anger, depression, anxiety---sometimes all in the course of one day. I've cried. I've cursed. I've questioned. I've surrendered. I've taken back. I've begged. I've raised my hands and closed my eyes and said absolutely nothing.
And through the din of my own heart noise, I hear again God's whispered promise of wholeness. Nothing missing. Nothing broken. Life as it was meant to be.
He is making all things new in me. Not just fixing them. Not repairing, rebuilding, or even renewing. He is redeeming. And making me new.
Some days I see that, feel that, know that more clearly than others. Thankfully those days are coming more frequently. The pain isn't as deep as it once was, the tears don't come as often as they did, and hope isn't as elusive as it used to be.
While I wish this wasn't part of my plot, I take heart knowing that God isn't done with my story yet. He's still writing.
My first break-up won't be my last chapter.