Marriages Restored

Newly Hung Lights

***Warning***  The following post contains R-rated language.  It is a true story from Christmas season 1999 that I post each year.

The last evening class of the fall semester was over.  I felt a warm sense of accomplishment and relief as I turned away from the lightly dusted white foothills into the dark and cold of my twenty-year old neighborhood.  Soon the dark gave way to the many houses adorned with flashing and not flashing lights.  Icicles seemed to be a popular style of light this year along with the usual array of red and green and, of course, Santa, reindeer, angels and sleighs.

As I turned onto my street I noticed some newly hung lights in front of my house.  They were the flashing kind.  Instantly, I became concerned and peered across the street at my neighbor's house.  Richie, Candy, their Dalmatian, Honda and their Basset, Lightning lived across the way.  My heart and soul turned downcast and pained.  Richie had been battling with cancer for a decade and it had recently turned up again for maybe the last time.  Was he dead?

I Hurt Too by Katie Herzig

I thought someone might be touched today by this hauntingly lovely song of pain and hope by Katie Herzig

When you're weary

And haunted

And your life is not what you wanted

When you're trying so hard to find it

When the lies speak the loudest

When your friends are starting to leave

When you're broken by people like me

I hurt too, I hurt too

When an ocean sits right between us

There is no sign that we'll ever cross

You should know now that I feel the loss

I hurt too, I hurt too

Even though you are drowning in valleys of echos

I believe there is peace in those hills up ahead

You will climb 'til you find places you'll never let go

And I will also be here praying just like I said

I hurt too, I hurt too

The Shack: William P. Young on Affairs

I am especially fond of The Shack.  I devoured it like a delicious piece of homemade carrot cake (my favorite).  This parable by William P. Young deeply moved me as I read about the healing journey of Young's alter ego, Mackenzie Phillips. 

Mack is a man who struggles with shame, guilt and anger with God.  Though the parable mostly takes place over a few days, it is grounded in Young's own brutal, beautiful healing journey. I feel that many going through affairs will connect with the raw emotions portrayed. 

The shack is a metaphor for that box inside our souls where we attempt to contain our shame and our story.  We lock it up and hope no one sees it because we have deemed it unacceptable and ugly.  We pray for God to remove it but how can we remove our story.  It is part of us and can only, or rather can wonderfully, be redeemed.  

As I read The Shack I connected with many of the emotions and pain that emerged as Ann and I lurched through the healing of our affairs.  During one interview he mentioned a blow out in ministry and I sensed an affair was involved. 

Recently, a friend shared with me William P. Young telling his own story at our former church in Denver. Here is a link to his honest, funny, in depth revealing of his heart and soul.  May it enrich the healing and redemption of your story. Listen to William P. Young's Story.

 

O soul, are you weary and troubled? Denise Jackson

Denise encounters God in her separation and brokenness while dealing with Alan's infidelity.  She shares these words from Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus,

O soul, are you weary and troubled?
No light in the darkness you see?
There's light for a look at the Savior,
And life more abundant and free!

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face;
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of His glory and grace.

Eventually!!!  I believe the words to that tune but eventually!!  First you got to get your heart and soul hammered with God's meat tenderizer.  It's painful and seems to go on too long and I'd never want to do it again, but man does it bring life out of black and white into 1080 color HD. 

Denise rediscovered her first love, God.  She began to make herself available for his healing soul surgery.  Alan did too.  She began to fill in with real substance and become her own person, not just be a clingy attachment to Alan. 

They got counseling, both weekly and an intensive.  She began to make decisions like buying a new SUV on her own.  These are the main areas Denise touched on in their counseling with regards to their marriage in general

1. Unlearn some old ways of communicating that caused damage and replace them with new ways of handling conflict which didn't tear each other down.
2. Grow inwardly.  She was becoming a woman to be reckoned with.  She was becoming an individual not a junior partner of a power couple.
3. They had a certain pertinacity where they weren't  afraid of hard work.  He always had it and really as an athlete she did too.
4. Alan needed to hear her affirmation.  No matter what anyone else said her voice always carried the most weight.  She'd grown up in a good house but one where her folks didn't show affection to each other.
5. Pray.  Not now I lay me down to sleep.  Denise was learning that pray is about changing us.  We change in our heartfelt prayer.  We get honest instead of demanding.  She got to the end of her rope and found Him. 
6. Learned to play and flirt and be goofy with one another.

That's a great outline for any marriage to look at with regards to growing.  The particulars Denise battled with infidelity were intense.  She was full of anger, shame, and pain.  She says she hardly knew which way to turn. 

I can relate.  After Ann's affair I would turn to her for comfort but then would realize she was the one who betrayed me.  I'd turn to church for comfort and hear how Jesus would make my life better but I certainly wasn't experiencing that.  I'd turn to God and I felt betrayed by Him because he'd allowed this to happen.  It's a lonely, painful place where brokenness eventually, freakin' eventually, guides the way out.   

But Alan was being honest and confessing all.  He was seeking her forgiveness.   She entered that long process of forgiveness and I saw where she read one of Lewis Smeedes two great books on forgiveness which helps us to pass along God's forgiveness of our own needy self to the one who has caused great pain in our souls. 

Too often a wife or husband forgives too quickly because they think they 'should' as a Christian.  Bad things are usually going on when we should all over ourselves.  Insta-forgiveness is a way to avoid pain and that meat tenderizer of God.  Ultimately we have to deal with the consequences of our sin against us. 

It hurts to have our trust violated so deeply.  We're stabbed, shot, and punched in the gut.  It takes a while to sort out all the wounds to know what exactly we're forgiving this person for doing.  'Cheating on me' is too global.  Lying to me by going to the lake with her in June 97 instead of to a business meeting is more specific and brings deeper healing.

Somehow in this process of forgiveness the one betrayed needs to realize he or she has a lot to be forgiven for too.  Denise did.  She saw how she related like a coward, how she'd turned her back on Christ and came to understand her own deep need for forgiveness too.  The gospel, both the crucifixion and resurrection, became real to Denise at the core of her soul. 

She forgave Alan but she didn't trust him yet and rightfully so.  They began to get more honest, open and transparent.  She'd share when she saw infidelity how much it hurt her.  It's everywhere!  You really notice it in the middle of the hell.  Alan let her vent. 

One change in this book to rebuild trust cracked me up.  I loved it, but I also thought it was hilarious.  I just can't tell most people to try this one.  Here's how she tells it,

In terms of his concerts and the many temptations that can come with life on the road, he started flying to every engagement, rather than taking the tour bus.  He called me and our children all the time, giving short accounts of where he was and what he was doing...almost without exception, he flew home after every show on the road. 

So I don't really see myself with a couple saying, "Buy or lease a plane or helicopter to take to work.  It will save your marriage.: :)  But I think it was great for the Jacksons and if you have the means then that's what you do.  As a matter of fact it takes some of those seemingly 'irrational' decisions to save the marriage.  Does that really make sense financially.  No.  But are there larger purposes going on.  Yep.

Alan was working on himself too.  He made a commitment to change and to their marriage.  He was figuring out who he was too.  Fame had eaten away his real face as well.

She hits on a key of restoration.  It happens daily.  No short cuts.  Deal with stuff as it comes up.  Be graceful And honest.  Don't let crap grow into a big pile.  I'll stop with that metaphor.  :)

She ends the chapter with a simple yet profound suggestion.  She and Alan spend some time together talking and snuggling in bed at the end of a day.

Ann and I are a little distant with one another now because we aren't doing this so much.  I'm working more evenings and she's going in at 6am.  I'm up doing a blog post and she's already upstairs.  We realize what's going on and are addressing it some, but I can feel a little bit of distance.  So, it's 9:15 and I hope she's still reading.  I like caring for other couples but compared to Ann you're small potatoes.  See you in a few. 

I'm back.  She was sleeping but I gave her smooch on the cheek and told her I loved her and that God did too.

Denise thanks for your heart and your courage.  Your story joined in with God's story is touching many.

Blue Christmas

I'm taking part in a Blue Christmas service tomorrow.  I'll be speaking with Keith and Karen Cowling for part of the service.  Karen's little brother, Don died two years ago, December 18.  They live in Arvada and the shootings at YWAM weren't too far up the mountain from them.  I'd appreciate your prayers for them and all who will be attending. 

Precipice

In The Brothers Karamazov the wise Father Zossima shares this with Alyosha, "Yours will be a long pilgrimage...You will have to bear all before you come back...Christ is with you.  Don't abandon Him and He will not abandon you.  You will see great sorrow, and in that sorrow you will be happy.  This is my last message to you: in sorrow seek happiness."

Sorrow isn't a pebble in our shoe we can empty out to experience relief and happiness.  It is more of a companion on the journey.  Somehow our friend, Sorrow, allows us to more clearly experience the beauty and wonder in others and our world.

My friend Mopsy has written about how her sorrow has become a constant presence in her life...and how in some ways that has been a gift to her.  Read Precipice.

Nicklaus to play in The Masters at Augusta

A few weeks ago Jack Nicklaus's seventeen month old grandson, Jake, drowned in a hot tub behind Jake's house.  Obviously the entire family was devastated.  Jack had this to say about his own heart yesterday, "The hardest part is watching your children suffer.  It's a double whammy for a grandparent.  That's just not supposed to happen."

At the urging of his son Steve, Jake's dad, Jack is going to play in his forty-fifth Masters. 

Grief is a messy business.  There may be some guiding principles surrounding grief but there is no set way to grieve.  May Jack and the Nicklaus family be blessed this week as they ache and hurt and engage in the family business and pastime of golf. 

Read more here. 

Steve Smallwood--The Death of a Child

Recently, I came back into contact with Steve Smallwood.  Steve was my chaplain in the Army Reserves when Ann's affair came into the light.  Steve was a guiding force for me as my world was in turmoil.  He walked with me and talked with me and allowed me to be where I was at that moment without telling me what to do.  By his presence and sometimes with his words he pointed me towards God. 

I was with Steve in Ft. Chaffee, Arkansas the first time I saw Braveheart.  I remember connecting so deeply with William Wallace (Mel Gibson) when he realized he had been betrayed by Robert the Bruce.  In the movie he laid down, an arrow in his heart, and obviously didn't care if he lived or died.  Soon, the crazy Irishman shows up, lifts Wallace to a horse and takes him to safety.  Steve was my crazy Irishman. 

I didn't realize until tonight that Steve had something in common with another friend, Gary who was a great support during this painful time.  They both had daughters die at a young age.  Gary's daughter, Sarah died in a car accident.  Steve's daughter, Kristen, at age three, drowned in a small fish pond by the parsonage at their church.  They both understood, firsthand, depth of pain and the messiness of grief.  I don't recall either one ever telling me what to do.  Ever.  They shared their hearts, they shared their concerns, they shared their experiences, they shared their hope, they shared their love, but they didn't ever tell me what to do or share ridiculous platitudes.

Steve is blogging from the Springfield, MO area.  He has written a powerful and deeply touching piece on the death of their daughter and the subsequent grief of he and his wife, Pam.  Read The Death of a Child. 

Sad

This morning I lay in bed thinking about my aunt's death on Thanksgiving.  I thought about her enthusiasm when she was younger.  Enthusiasm comes from entheos or to be filled with God. 

She would laugh inhibited by cultural politeness definitions.  She was mentally retarded and showed unrestrained joy when she had visitors.  I used to feel uncomfortable but also giggly at her own giggles.  I couldn't help but smile.  I usually only got so unrestrained after too much Wild Turkey.

She didn't have a tongue either which made understanding her difficult.  I'd have to ask my Granny to interpret for me at least half of the time.  I smile most at how she pronounced my brother's name.  His name is Bart.  When Sis would say it, it sounded like Bot only not Bot quickly but more like Bo-o-t with that extra time for the r that still sounded like an O. 

She loved her dogs.  She had one called Princess and she was followed by a toy poodle named Muffin whom she called Muffis.  I watched the dog show on Thanksgiving this year and the announcer kept referring to this dog being a good therapy dog and that dog being a good therapy dog.  I think Sis's dogs were good therapy dogs.  After Muffin she didn't get another one.

She began to change.  She was sad or angry.  She didn't have the enthusiasm any more when I would visit which was only every year or two.  I think she was lonely.  She began to have conversations with people who weren't there.  I don't think she was mentally ill but what else do you call it when people hear people who aren't there.  I think she was broken hearted lonely but that isn't in the DSM with the thousand page list of all the ways we get screwed up in the head.  I guess that's because it's a heart disease. 

She had diabetes and no muscle tone because she never really got out and even walked around.  She couldn't go by herself and my Granny's bones were all breaking making her unable to walk too much too. 

She lost a couple of toes to the diabetes.  After Granny died a year ago Sis continued living in the nursing home they had moved to a few months before.  She didn't get around even more and it showed in her bed sores. 

They took her to the hospital when they began to notice her struggling.  The jerkwad nursing home didn't even call my other aunt and let her know.  Peggy got a call from the hospital and the voice said, "I'm sorry.  Your sister didn't make it."  Peg didn't even know she was sick. 

They had a small graveside service at the same hilltop cemetery we buried Granny at a year ago.  I didn't make the 11 hour drive back to attend.  Was it the Friday or Saturday after Thanksgiving?  I don't recall.  That signifies to me the disconnect I always felt with Sis.  Her joy was beyond what I felt comfortable feeling.  Her loneliness was too painful for me to ponder for any length of time.  I couldn't ever talk to her on the phone because I couldn't understand her.  I couldn't really understand her in person. 

Except I do know joy.  I just usually express it in culturally acceptable ways.  I do know sorrow.  I express sadness some but still feel pulled to smile wryly and say I'm getting through it instead of growling something like an invisible claw has snatched my heart, thrown it on the ground, stomped on it a thousand times and put it back in me. 

So I didn't connect with her but I knew her.  I knew her because we were both created by the same God with the same desires for relationship, the same desires for good friends the same desires to be the beloved of another.  Unfortunately, she learned to try to bury it like the rest of us.  Now it is all buried for good.