Finding faith - Part 1
I’m not sure where to start but this is something that I struggle with.
Expressing the faith I’ve discovered over the last few years. Someone once said, finding faith is something you do in the darkness. This couldn’t be further from the truth for me.
In time, life took a turn and while I found it harder and harder to face the truth my thoughts went to dark places to cope. I didn’t want to become the person my life was going towards. After all, I had not been happy for years, it became worse and I could see the end, and it did not bode well.
I confess the challenges that were in my life were a result of misdirected choices, failures and lack of strength to stand up for myself. Everyone else came first and happiness was found in my life by serving others. This isn’t a bad thing for most however, in that process I forgot who I was.
Starting therapy with the grace of my boss at the time, he held cover for me while I attended. I spoke my truths, learning how to deal with what happened and preparing for what could come. Keep a bag, my personal identity and emergency funds in a safe place.
3 times, I asked for a divorce. 2 times, failed attempts. I suppose looking back, the efforts taught me how to manage, dodge and recover. Holding back emotions when things were thrown towards me, fighting back tears when it became physical, numbing myself to the emotions inside. I was at a point the bridge railings looked weak and my desire to cross was getting stronger.
Every.
Day.
I then started to speak to the most unassuming person. She wasn’t close, therefor I had nothing to lose. I could speak my truth and I felt, no judgement would come from it. I mentioned the guns that had been kept under the bed. The handgun bullet on the dresser. The nights I left the house in fear, regardless of how cold it was outside, no jacket, no direction. Then it started. Like a snowball on the top of a hill, faith showed up.
She mentions about a friend who needed someone to watch their place for a few months. I took the offer and went over to meet the family. As transparent as I wanted to be, I kept the truth to myself and a few other close people.
There are a few months that pass before it happens. Careful preparation happens however, as careful as one can be, sometimes information goes back and arguments happened. Accusations, hurtful words, comments coming at me trying to knock me down, to ensure I believe I cannot do it. I am incapable, stupid, I will be found and I won’t get away with anything. I do not move a muscle, I do not shed a tear, I do not respond. I am conditioned to not escalate the situation.
I had started the transition by including my family and close friends. They knew the days and times.
Day 1 - He left and within 1 hour, it started. Taking our son to school, going to the police department (who I wasn’t sure I could trust as he claimed he had friends everywhere) with the letter carefully drafted. Then returning home to gather all items that were necessary to start over. Once I walked out, there was no going back.
Day 2 - On the advice of the police, I went to the court buildings and spoke to a judge. With bits of evidence, he granted us a Protection Order. This was another grace given to us. No matter the amount of doubt I had, it seemed that everything we needed was happening. Someone was trying to tell me it was going to be okay. That evening before he returned home, I sat at the table in the house I would call home for 4 months with the police, Child social services, a small amount of family and some close friends. They let me know what I should expect, how to prepare and how to NOT respond. A few hours later, the first text came through. Then messages from from his friends and family.
Time passes and our return to normalcy is something we need. I branch out to a grocery store, across the city with the intent to get what we need and not be seen by anyone we know. After all, he told me, I’d never get away. Groceries loaded at the till, a woman behind me kept asking questions about the spaghetti squash. How to prepare, cook.. I really did not want to speak to anyone and tried to withdraw many times. Finally at the cashier, the bill came up to around $150.00 then it happened. She gently nudged me aside and said, “I’ve got this”. I said no, it’s okay, I can do this. She responded with “Something told me you needed the act, you needed this more than anything else. Consider it an early Christmas gift.” I fell into her arms and cried harder than I had in a long time.
Moments since have reforced my faith but this was by far the pivotal moment. I no longer have doubt.
I ask you to re read this. I ask you to see where all the moments I was given to see I wasn’t alone. Having faith isn’t about just one moment in life, it’s about life itself. Open your heart, mind, ears and eyes to everything around you. When that happens, you’ll discover it was there all along.
Expressing the faith I’ve discovered over the last few years. Someone once said, finding faith is something you do in the darkness. This couldn’t be further from the truth for me.
In time, life took a turn and while I found it harder and harder to face the truth my thoughts went to dark places to cope. I didn’t want to become the person my life was going towards. After all, I had not been happy for years, it became worse and I could see the end, and it did not bode well.
I confess the challenges that were in my life were a result of misdirected choices, failures and lack of strength to stand up for myself. Everyone else came first and happiness was found in my life by serving others. This isn’t a bad thing for most however, in that process I forgot who I was.
Starting therapy with the grace of my boss at the time, he held cover for me while I attended. I spoke my truths, learning how to deal with what happened and preparing for what could come. Keep a bag, my personal identity and emergency funds in a safe place.
3 times, I asked for a divorce. 2 times, failed attempts. I suppose looking back, the efforts taught me how to manage, dodge and recover. Holding back emotions when things were thrown towards me, fighting back tears when it became physical, numbing myself to the emotions inside. I was at a point the bridge railings looked weak and my desire to cross was getting stronger.
Every.
Day.
I then started to speak to the most unassuming person. She wasn’t close, therefor I had nothing to lose. I could speak my truth and I felt, no judgement would come from it. I mentioned the guns that had been kept under the bed. The handgun bullet on the dresser. The nights I left the house in fear, regardless of how cold it was outside, no jacket, no direction. Then it started. Like a snowball on the top of a hill, faith showed up.
She mentions about a friend who needed someone to watch their place for a few months. I took the offer and went over to meet the family. As transparent as I wanted to be, I kept the truth to myself and a few other close people.
There are a few months that pass before it happens. Careful preparation happens however, as careful as one can be, sometimes information goes back and arguments happened. Accusations, hurtful words, comments coming at me trying to knock me down, to ensure I believe I cannot do it. I am incapable, stupid, I will be found and I won’t get away with anything. I do not move a muscle, I do not shed a tear, I do not respond. I am conditioned to not escalate the situation.
I had started the transition by including my family and close friends. They knew the days and times.
Day 1 - He left and within 1 hour, it started. Taking our son to school, going to the police department (who I wasn’t sure I could trust as he claimed he had friends everywhere) with the letter carefully drafted. Then returning home to gather all items that were necessary to start over. Once I walked out, there was no going back.
Day 2 - On the advice of the police, I went to the court buildings and spoke to a judge. With bits of evidence, he granted us a Protection Order. This was another grace given to us. No matter the amount of doubt I had, it seemed that everything we needed was happening. Someone was trying to tell me it was going to be okay. That evening before he returned home, I sat at the table in the house I would call home for 4 months with the police, Child social services, a small amount of family and some close friends. They let me know what I should expect, how to prepare and how to NOT respond. A few hours later, the first text came through. Then messages from from his friends and family.
Time passes and our return to normalcy is something we need. I branch out to a grocery store, across the city with the intent to get what we need and not be seen by anyone we know. After all, he told me, I’d never get away. Groceries loaded at the till, a woman behind me kept asking questions about the spaghetti squash. How to prepare, cook.. I really did not want to speak to anyone and tried to withdraw many times. Finally at the cashier, the bill came up to around $150.00 then it happened. She gently nudged me aside and said, “I’ve got this”. I said no, it’s okay, I can do this. She responded with “Something told me you needed the act, you needed this more than anything else. Consider it an early Christmas gift.” I fell into her arms and cried harder than I had in a long time.
Moments since have reforced my faith but this was by far the pivotal moment. I no longer have doubt.
I ask you to re read this. I ask you to see where all the moments I was given to see I wasn’t alone. Having faith isn’t about just one moment in life, it’s about life itself. Open your heart, mind, ears and eyes to everything around you. When that happens, you’ll discover it was there all along.
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