I am hiding.
I've seen one friend and my husband's family since I've been back. I can't tell if I'm ashamed to be back or not. There are many who disagreed with me leaving, and probably just as many who think I've made a foolish choice to return. I feel the righteous thoughts of some who think I've finally gotten right with God by returning. Some think I'm heroic for leaving and returning. Some are scared for me. Some feel my choice to return will have a dangerous effect on my son.
I don't carry all of the fear to the extent many feel it. I also don't feel the jubilation that others have expressed. It's an odd flatline. I'm the undead tormented zombie who has been through too much trauma to identify with any of the ranges of emotion of those around me. I'm just existing. I don't want to see or hear their overjoyed reactions to my return because I'm still filled with fear and caution. I also don't want to be coddled like I'm such a "trooper" who has been a big girl this year... I despise every reaction to myself others might have. Probably because I've heard every one of them dismissed in my head by the projected feelings of others on every side of the situation.
I'm also hiding because I've gained so much weight since I've been gone that my wardrobe barely fits me. The rolls are showing. Shame pushes down on me and I don't want to be seen. I'm thankful for the coming fall and winter. I'll be able to hide under sweaters and beautiful scarves soon. Right now I can only use perfectly manicured toenails (minus my embarrassingly dry heals) and my wonderful son to take the attention away from my butterball physique. ("No wonder he wasn't all that into, you, Meg. Look at yourself"... says myself to me.) I dread seeing family that is coming into town this weekend because there's no way to hide my embarrassing changes. I'm actually praying for a cold snap.
I am full of fear.
Who is this man that I share a bed with? In many ways he is the old Jack that I knew and loved, but for some reason I can't seem to erase from my memory the monster that took form when I challenged his distorted thinking. A monster that he says only ever existed because we misunderstood each other. And then my mind goes in circles again over my distinct memories that have no explanation or validation.
Dear Lord, where is the relief?
I am angry.
I don't want to talk to God. After all, I'm not returning under the circumstances that I thought would exist when I darkened my door again. Instead of profuse apologies I understand the general feeling is that I was wrong to have left, but they'll overlook it all anyway (and I should be so grateful). But I know that God never signed the dotted line on my "if / then" contract outlining the perfect situation to which I would return. However we both did sign the "I will obey and He will lead" contract. So I fulfilled my end even though I did it kicking and screaming in my heart. In my life, it takes a huge life shattering experience to even come close to letting my hand slip out of the Father's loving hold. To look at Him questioningly: "I thought I could trust You, Daddy. I did everything I thought you wanted me to do, but they're saying that I did the wrong things. What is happening and why do you allow me to be shamed for my obedience? " Who is this God that I follow? Where are the blessings for my excruciating obedience?
A friend said to me recently that I was holding onto fear (understandably) and if I would let go of it and turn from it, trusting in God, that's where the blessings would flow that He so desperately wants to give me.
It seems that doing this would involve me embracing my husband without any reservation whatsoever in my heart. We've been doing a good deal of embracing, but I must confess that there is a thread of caution, holding back and eyes wide open. I hate that. I hate what sin has caused me to deal with and fight against. I'm completely jealous of women who have no reasons to doubt their husband's faithfulness. No dark past. No devastating past to hide from people. No reason to become nauseated at the thought of making love to their husbands. Nothing vile to clean up, no traumatic memories to push away... How do I get past all of it?
I don't want to run to Jack, and I don't want to run to God right now even though I know deep down that it's the running into God's arms that will free me of all of this. No one seems trustworthy at the moment - even though I know it's not true.
How long will I wait? I don't know.
