Letting go was the beginning of the end. Why it took so long for me to do so is not the topic of this post, so I will not go there, however, the day that the words, “If you and the children were better people, more encouraging, more respectful, I would not have to be so mean,” finally penetrated deep into the logic center of my brain, I knew things had to change.
And change they did; things got worse. For as a family we stopped accepting blame for another’s problems, however when that individuals victim status was revoked, and they were expected to take responsibility for their life, their decisions, their anger, instead of taking advantage of the opportunity to heal and grow with the family, they seethed, lashing out with fury on the unexpected, leaving the rational choice of escape as the only option.
Regardless of freedom, the feelings of blame still held sway in my mind. They were relentless, and fed with each encounter with there creator, so there was no choice, all contact was eliminated.
Still, guilt was so firmly embedded by years of acceptance that it ate away at my resolve. The litany of, what if I had tried harder, what if I had more faith, what if, what if, what if, played havoc in my mind, that is, until God.
This is where things got dicey and faith in the goodness of God was tested, for His still small voice was relentless in its persistence, it whispered, “walk with him.” Okay, so I am freaking out here, because no way am I going down that destructive path again, but there it was again, “walk with him,” and the next day, “walk with him.”
Well by now I think you get the picture, I know that I was beginning to. After weeks of this instruction, I decided to obey. I didn’t want to, I mean I really really really did not want to, but if I believed that God was good and to be trusted, there was no better option than to obey.
This was not an easy thing to put into practice. My early morning walks were mine, my time alone, to pray, to worship, to ponder, I didn’t want to share, especially with him, but I did, and every time I wanted to stop, back came those words, “walk with him.” Talk about annoying. I know, my attitude here was stinkin to high heaven, but come on, we had been through hell, and who in their right mind wants to go back.
After several weeks of listening to “him” expound upon all my faults, and the multitude of wrongs I have caused him to commit, we finally got to the point of God’s leading. My walking companion became comfortable and forgot to whom he was speaking, it was his undoing and my release, for he spewed the details of his plan, how he had manipulated and abused the trust and love of his family for his own gain, and how he planned to continue.
I won’t lie, it hurt, deeply, I am still astounded how much. When I blamed myself it was depressing and destructive, but this, ouch, I was used, betrayed, unloved, but, and there is always a but, it is often the best part, I was finally able to relinquish my burden of guilt.
What else can I possibly do than to give, all praise, glory, and honor to a faithful God. He showed me the truth and set me free.