The pained whisper

About a month ago I had a dream. I was in a house, and there was a demon there. I knew it was there, I could feel the presence of it, and I knew it had an awareness of me also. I dreamed of being in the rooms of that house, and I would try to walk out of a room, and as I went to push a door open, I would feel it pushing back. Trying to keep me from getting the door all the way open and leaving the room. I would push harder and the resistance on the other side would grow stronger. Then I would suddenly skip ahead and find myself in a hallway, and would come across a door, and when I would try to open a door to enter a room, the demon again would pull from the other side, trying to keep me from entering. Again and again I would find myself in this tug of war at every door. Trying to enter a room that I couldn’t get in, or trying to exit a room that I couldn’t get out of. Until I finally found myself walking into a kitchen/ living area. And I saw Jeff standing there. And then suddenly, the demon was in him. He is coming at me. Swinging for me. Trying to get to me so he can put his hands around my throat. He wants to hurt me and he wants to use Jeff to do it. I know what I need to do. I just have to tell the demon that he doesn’t belong here. That he’s not welcome here. I have to tell him that he can’t have Jeff. I know exactly what to do. I know I have the authority. And so I try to speak. I have the words. But my throat feels like it’s closing up. The strength I’m using to push the words out should be creating a loud shout, but I can barely push them out. I am straining so hard to make the noise come out that it literally causes me physical pain. There is definitely a little trepidation in me, for I know the seriousness of facing this demon. But there’s a boldness within me that pushes back that fear, and pushes me to fight. I dig deep and try to pull as much strength and authority as I can muster into my voice as I try to speak. But all that I hear coming from my mouth is barely more than a hoarse whisper.

“You can’t be here. You can’t have him. Get out. You’re not allowed to harm me. You leave in the name of Jesus! Go and don’t come back. You’re not welcome here. Get out. Get out. In the name of Jesus, GET OUT!!!”

Over and over I try to speak the words. Sometimes managing to barely make the sounds, and sometimes only able to push out the air as I mouth the words.

But I keep trying. I keep fighting that demon. Wishing I could get the strong shout of rebuke that I have within me to come out as more than a whisper. Fighting off the fear that maybe I don’t have as much authority over him as I had believed. Beginning to wonder why my shout keeps coming out as a strained, painful whisper. But even still, refusing to back down. Grasping hold of the promise that no weapon formed against me shall prosper. Holding tight to the hope that my voice may be nothing more than a whisper, but that the power of God in that pained whisper is enough to defeat that demon.

It’s not the first time I’ve had that dream, or some version of it. There are variations of it, each one slightly different, in a different location, or with the demon taunting me in different ways, but always ending the same, with me staring him down, and struggling to make my voice reflect the power behind the words I’m trying to get out.

I have spiritual dreams every once in a while. It’s not completely out of the norm for me. So I didn’t think too much about this one when I woke up.

But looking back, I can see now that this dream, along with every other one I’ve had like it over the years, is usually a reflection of something going on in our lives. They come as a warning sometimes. A warning that something is not right. A warning that we are under attack, and to be vigilant. Other times they come just as a reminder. A reminder that the fight can be hard, and that the fight may take more out of us than we think we can handle.

A reminder that sometimes even when it feels impossible, even when it seems we are drawing on what feels like our last breaths just to force out a battle cry, no matter how small our voices, no matter how weak our shouts, we only need the slightest whisper of His name.

I always wake up in the midst of the fight. Usually just as the demon in whatever form he has taken has me just within his reach. But I never wake up afraid. Or feeling defeated.

And so I’ve often wondered if it was enough, those pained whispers. Enough to drive the demon out.

And as I thought about it today, I realized that is why I wake up. Right in the middle of the fight, just as the tip of his fingers nearly reach me, at a point where I should be terrified, I always wake up, completely unafraid. Able to go right back to sleep.

And so it occurred to me finally, that maybe it was enough. Maybe, the pained whisper was all I needed to defeat him. The pained whisper of the name of Jesus was enough to drive him away and wake me from the nightmare and bring me peace.

I didn’t realize it when I had that dream, but we were in fact, facing a spiritual battle. The past couple of months had been stressful. The usual things that affect most families. There had been some financial stress. I had also been under a good deal of stress because of an abnormal mammogram result, which was followed by a couple of follow up appointments spread over a few of what seemed like very LONG weeks. It turned out to be nothing to worry about, thankfully. There was also some college stuff for both girls that needed to be worked out. I’d not been sleeping well due to some leg pain from my old back injury. In the middle of all that, we also had some serious trust issues resurface. And somewhere in the midst of all that busy-ness and stress, there had grown a distance between us. I felt it, he felt it. Neither one of us quite sure what initially caused it or when it started growing, but both painfully aware that something just wasn’t right.

And to say that my PTSD-like reactions were triggered by all of that would be an understatement.

He felt defeated. I felt panicked. And sad. And slightly terrified.

Two months ago we were fine. Better than ever. We felt like we were in a really good place. And I can’t really tell you where or when things went wrong specifically. All I know is that we got complacent. Maybe a little lazy. We let one too many things slide. And it didn’t seem like we were that far off track. Except for that dream I had. Except for this gnawing feeling that things just weren’t right. This overwhelming prompting to perk up and pay attention. A feeling that we somehow ended up unintentionally perched on the edge of a cliff, because of our lack of intention.

And I’m not gonna lie to y’all. It got kind of bad. Actually it got really bad. It was the second big fight in the past few months that had us both feeling like we were reaching our breaking point. It culminated in an emotionally charged discussion in which Jeff hinted at the possibility that he might be ready to give up, and me suggesting that if that was truly the case that he should maybe go pack his bags.

Yep. That bad.

And just like that, we had fallen off the edge of that cliff.

All it took was for us to stop paying attention to where we were standing, just for a little bit, to stop paying attention to where we were headed. We stopped talking to each other as we walked down that road and yet somehow were still surprised when we found ourselves on the edge of that cliff. And by the time we got there, we were so disconnected and so frustrated and feeling a little lost as to how to find our way back to the path we were on before we went so far off course.

And looking over that edge was so dizzying. So disorienting. And so we tumbled right on over.

But we didn’t die there.

We found a ledge on our tumble down, and we grabbed it.

Suddenly, painfully aware of this precarious position we’d gotten ourselves into, we began to face the hard truths of what got us there. What are we doing out here, hanging on by our fingertips? We don’t belong here. And so, we climbed.

With admitting that we had both taken our eyes off the ball.

With him apologizing for some not so great choices.

With me admitting that my reactions to situations can sometimes be bigger than the situation warrants because I’m not really reacting to whatever is going on at the moment necessarily, but am actually reacting to the fear that whatever the thing we are fighting about triggered inside of me.

We pulled ourselves back over the top of that cliff by acknowledging that all of this stress, and this downfall was really a fight with the enemy, and not so much with each other. We pulled ourselves back up by realizing that to get where we want to go, to have the relationship we want to have, and be the people we want to be, we’ve got to fight together, instead of against each other.

We’re a bit exhausted, if I’m being honest. These past two months have been A LOT.

A lot of me facing my biggest fears.

Fear for my health.

Fear of lack of provision.

Fear of being deceived.

Fear that Jeff would let me down again.

Fear that these past few years, all of our hard work, everything we’ve put in to rebuilding this marriage, would end because of a bad decision, or because one or both of us just couldn’t push through one more hard day. That we would do all of this, only to fail. To end up with nothing.

And then there’s the fear that we would let all of you down.

I looked at Jeff, in the middle of our fight, and said, “This is not just about us. We’re at a crossroads here. There’s something big ahead, bigger than just us, I can feel it. And I feel like we need to be real careful how we move forward. A lot of people look to us. They look to us as an example of hope. The choices we make here, now, don’t just have the potential to affect us, there’s a whole lot of other people we would be letting down too.”

We’ve been given this platform, and we don’t take it lightly. So, yes, besides the fear of being hurt again, letting you all down or failing you in any way is one of my biggest ones.

But the truth is, we’re human. We don’t have the magic formula for repairing a broken marriage. I’m not an expert. We aren’t licensed therapists. We aren’t ordained pastors. We are just Jeff and Amy. We are two people that walked through a very dark place. We’re the guy that made the worst mistake of his life. We’re the girl who’s heart was broken. We’re a couple that found our way through the brokenness to forgiveness. We chose goodness. We chose the hard path of refinement and redemption. And I’m just the girl, following the pull on her heart to share it all with you. To be real…and sometimes painfully, raw, with sharing our story with you in a way that most people wouldn’t. Because I feel so strongly that this world needs more people willing to share their truth. Not in a vague way. Not in a glossed over highlight reel. But in the details, in the hard truth of the trenches, and the bright light of the mountaintops, and all the highs and lows of the moments in between. The world needs more people willing to shine a light in ALL the dark places, to admit that you’ve been there before, and help others see that there’s a way out.

It’s become painfully apparent to me that my biggest struggle is with fear.

I constantly have to remind myself that the fear, all that fear that I fight on a daily basis, is a liar.

He’s the demon in my dreams trying to hold the doors and keep me stuck in a place where I can’t share God’s goodness. Trying to strike out at me and wrap his wiry fingers around my throat and choke the light, God’s light, right out of me. He’s the one I see in the face of Jeff at the end of my dreams, the one telling him that he might as well give in. That he’ll never win this fight, that he’s not the man God says he can be.

The truth is, even if we failed, even if, after all these years of work and hope and sweat and joy and tears, we end up falling over the edge of the cliff, God is still there.

And He will no doubt have a path full of goodness mapped out for us. He will hold out his hand, and pull us up, and show us the way out, whether that be together, or apart. All we have to do is look to Him. I’ve seen many, many examples of God’s goodness in situations where a marriage ultimately doesn’t work out. And so while I won’t stop fighting, I also shouldn’t be afraid of letting you all down if we fail. Because while this blog is about restoration and redemption and hope for broken relationships, it’s also about restoration and redemption on a personal level. My hope, our hope, the true hope of God is that He has a plan for you, no matter the decisions of someone you love. We can’t control the actions or choices of others. All we can do is look to Him and trust in His presence and His goodness.

He’s there on the good path. He’s there on the easy days. He’s also there in the midst of those really, really hard ones. He’s there on the edge of that cliff.

And if we happen to find ourselves falling over that cliff and ending up crumpled and broken at the bottom of that canyon, He’ll be there too.

I know, because I’ve been there.

We survived the initial fall all the way to the bottom several years ago. And the climb back up has been hard, and exhausting, but also rewarding, and full of joy. We’ve had more good days than bad ones. I could have chosen not to share any of this latest struggle with you. I could have given in to the fear that to continue to give you the hope you need, and to “promote the brand” or keep up a certain image that we need to have a perfect marriage from here on out, with the appearance of neither of us failing and only having good days. But the truth is, we aren’t perfect. And a dishonest version of redemption is not a story of redemption at all. I don’t write this blog to create a brand or to gain followers. I write it to show you that we all have good days, we all have bad days, we all have victories and struggles, and that God is right there through all of it. I share our setbacks and our failures with you so you know you’re not alone. So you know that just because you’ve pushed through your hardest days, you still have to be intentional and fight for your family, for yourself, for your marriage, for the life you want. I do it so you’ll know that the goodness is worth the fight. And I do it so that you know that even if you get off course, and take a little tumble, that it’s ok. It happens to all of us. You can still grab on to that ledge and make your way back up to steady ground.

We took a little tumble. But we climbed back up. And we woke up the next morning with a renewed sense of purpose. A reminder to be intentional.

And also with great expectation. Because when the devil comes at you like that, it’s usually because God has something in the works. There’s something ahead that God wants for us that the devil does not want us to have, and maybe something that God wants us to do that the devil does not want to see come to fruition. So he came swinging at us, aiming for all the places we are the most vulnerable.

And we have just a couple of words for him:

Not today.

Jeff had a dream of his own last night. He dreamed that he and I were both in basic training.

I don’t think that was just a dream either.

Ephesians 6:12 (NLT)

12 For we are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places.

Sometimes we all have setbacks. Just because we’ve come so far and healed so much does not make us immune to the attacks of the devil or immune to simply making a mistake. But we can win those battles and overcome those hurdles. And I strongly believe that most of our setbacks are really just setups for something on a grander scale in our future. We just have to see them for what they really are and keep our focus in the right place.

So we’re gonna keep fighting.

We’re going to keep fighting for us. We’re going to keep fighting for you. And we can’t wait to see the good that God will bring from it.

Don’t give up.

Don’t lose hope.

Don’t give in to the fear.

Just keep fighting.

Even when it’s hard. Even when you barely have enough breath to push the words out. Even when all you can manage, is a pained whisper of His name.

There’s power in that pained whisper.

That pained whisper is enough, and it’s all you need to win the fight.

❤️

Amy Thurston Gordy

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Wake me up when September ends

September.
I used to love it.
Still enough summer left to enjoy the pool, but also just a hint of fall in the air. There was always a kind of crispness to September. New school routines becoming more settled, pumpkins popping up in front of the stores. Scents of cinnamon and spice and pumpkin and baked goods signaling the impending arrival of fall and all the comforts that season brings. Cozy nights with a fire and a fluffy blanket. Chili, hot chocolate, apple cider, candy corn, caramel apples, pumpkin cupcakes, football food, fall festivals. Planning fall vacations. Holidays.
(And suddenly as I read this back I’m realizing that almost all of that consists of references to food. Ha;)
So much goodness.
These are the things I used to think of in September.

But now…well, I still think of all those things.
But September is also a terrible reminder of the worst day of my life.

And I know that I have to choose to not focus on that. I’m doing my best. But if I’m being honest, it’s not always particularly easy. I’m trying not to think about it. But it’s there. Always under the surface. Sometimes closer to the surface than others.
I don’t choose to have thoughts or memories pop up, I don’t choose to feel the sadness those things bring. But when they come I have to choose to fight them.
It’s still a struggle sometimes. Those thoughts and feelings are a pretty strong adversary, but I AM stronger.
And getting stronger by the day.

Things are good.
Really, really good. I know this. I’m happy.
I’m thankful. So thankful. Rebuilding this marriage, what we have been able to do, I do not take it for granted.
God continues to pour out His blessings on us every day.
One of my favorite songs at the moment has a verse that says “I know you hear me, I know you see me Lord. Your plans are for me, goodness you have in store.”
And He does. He has nothing but goodness for us.
That’s what I want to focus on.

But despite that, sometimes the ache still gets to me.
It’s like an old injury that you can almost forget you had.
Almost.

Someone swings a bat, oblivious to anyone around them and it comes around and makes contact with your leg.
The sound is deafening.
Cracking, splintering, shattering. The pain is searing.
Nearly unbearable.
You go into shock. It immobilizes you.
Weeks and months pass. After many prayers, therapy, determination and hard work, you are back on your feet again. The fact that you are walking is nothing short of a miracle.
And the searing hot pain is gone….mostly.
Sometimes you almost forget about it. Except that there always seems to be that dull ache. You’ve become so accustom to it, that you almost don’t notice it.
It just is.
So you just learn to live with it. You learn coping mechanisms, some good, some probably not so good. But you just keep pushing through. You find a way to live with it. Because you decide, for you, there really is no other option. You could choose to wallow in the pain, which just intensifies the pain, or you suck it up and you push the pain away and focus on everything else so you can live your life.

And the person that caused you that injury, they are sorry. So very sorry. And you forgive them.
And it’s easy for them now. Easy for them to forget and live their lives. They don’t have any lingering pain or scars or after effects. They’ve become a new person. They aren’t that person that hurt you anymore.
Except for having to deal with the occasional moments you allow them to see your ache, they can easily wipe the memory of the person they used to be from their minds.
They are just a clean slate.
And you envy that.
You envy that so much that sometimes you secretly wish that you were them and they were you.
It’s so simple for them.

You want it to be that simple for you too.

The words ARE simple.
Easy.

You’re healed.
You’re walking.
Life is great.
Let it go.

But although that bone has healed so much, it’s not the same. The fracture lines are still there, and there’s always that dull ache. And sometimes, with just the slightest change in the weather, that dull ache can become so loud, and so insistent that you just can’t block it out. It doesn’t happen quite as often anymore, but still, you find yourself wondering sometimes if these episodes of increased pain will ever completely stop. And you find yourself wondering if that deep dull ache ever truly ends, or if it’s there to stay.
It’s a constant reminder.
And you wonder if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Maybe it’s a little of both.

Bad because pain is, well…painful.
And distracting.
Makes it harder to focus.
But it’s also a constant reminder that despite how bad things were, how truly good things are now.

It’s a reminder of the fact that you didn’t stay there.
A reminder of how far you’ve come.
A reminder that you don’t live there anymore.

You live in light and joy and redemption.

So maybe one day the ache will completely disappear, or maybe you have to learn to view that ache as Paul did when God wouldn’t remove “the thorn in his flesh”. Maybe you have to learn to let that be a reminder of God’s grace and your gratitude and “count it all joy”.

Either way, the goodness wins. Either way, the goodness defeats the ache.

The day is coming. D-day. The anniversary of the worst day ever.
I don’t want to let it be that. It’s a date on a calendar. It shouldn’t own me or my emotions.
So I’m trying to think of something to do or somewhere to go. Some way to fill that day up this year with fun and happiness and joy. Just something to create some new memories for that day. (Suggestions and ideas are appreciated 🙂 I have thought that one day we might even use that day to renew our vows. But if I decide to do that, not this year. I want a little more prep time to plan for that!)
I just want to find some way to spend our day focusing on each other and all the things we have to celebrate. Our new and better marriage. His one year mark of being porn free. The many, many blessings we have been given in this past year. I want to celebrate the goodness.

If I fill that day up year after year with new and better memories, then the negative memories will fade more and more and the goodness will overtake the bad.

One day this season in our lives will be just a season. Just a fact in the story of our lives. One day I will be so far out from this injury my heart has endured, that I won’t notice the ache anymore. One day when I see my scars, I won’t think of the pain anymore. Only the beauty that came after the pain.

So I’m gonna retract the title of this blog. Don’t wake me up when September ends. I’m not hiding out or sleeping through it.

There’s goodness to be found, and I don’t want to waste a single day of it.

Bring it on September.
I think I’m ready for you.

Amy Thurston Gordy

We don’t live there anymore.

Today was the day last year that marked the beginning of the unraveling of my marriage. Not the D-day. That comes in September. But today was the day that the first clue was revealed. The first hint that something was terribly wrong. I had found messages between him and another girl. Not the one he was actually having an affair with. I didn’t know about that yet. This was someone else. A much, much younger girl from work. They were not having an affair, but the messages were very flirtatious, and he was not discouraging it. It was definitely flirtatious enough that one could see that it was headed in that direction. I was devastated. 

Over a Facebook message. 

Little did I know that was small potatoes compared to what was truly happening. I just thought we had problems. I thought we had problems just knowing that he was entertaining the idea of having an affair, little did I know at the time that he was actually already engaged in one with someone completely different. 

The girl he was sending these flirtatious messages with, actually started messaging him again months later, during our separation, this time including some pictures in which she was in a state of , ahem, undress. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t realize that Jeff wasn’t getting those messages. They were coming to ME. I sent her a message back letting her know. I have to admit, sending that message to let her know that she had actually not sent those messages to Jeff, but instead to me, HIS WIFE, was kind of fun. Just imagining the look on her face when she read that first sentence was a pretty entertaining thought. I mean , I kind of imagined it to look kind of like this. 


I was harsh, but kinder than most people would be in this situation. She is very young. Unmarried. Naive. So I decided to show her a little grace and explain to her that going after someone else’s husband has a much far reaching effect than just her and the husband. I explained to her the devastation it brings to everyone involved. 

To my surprise, she actually responded. Said that she was sorry. That she actually had been raised better than to do what she was doing. 

Turns out, she comes from a broken home and knows first hand what that fallout is like. So why then, I asked her, would you want to possibly have a part in causing someone else’s kids to go through what you went through? 

I have recently heard that she is pregnant. I wonder, now that she has a relationship, and a child of her own, if she realizes the seriousness of her actions. If she thinks about what it would be like to find those kinds of messages from another woman to her husband? I wonder if she understands better now all the things I said to her. I hope she does and that she never does something like that again. And I hope she never has to experience it herself and that her baby grows up in a loving home that stays whole. 

A couple of nights ago I had started having some anxiety about this upcoming season of unfortunate anniversaries. The thought of them brought about some triggers, and sometimes when I’m working through battling those triggers I get particularly quiet. Jeff always notices. So we talked about it. We talked about how the triggers affect me. And then we talked about all the good things, and how thankful we are for where we are now in comparison. We talked about how proud I am of him and the transformation he’s made in himself. We talked about all of our victories in the battles we have faced in this past year. We talked about how far we’ve come and our belief that things will just keep getting better. 

He told me how every night when he goes to bed he thanks God that he has been given the gift of going to sleep in this house with me and our family. He said every morning when he wakes up he thanks God again that he has the privilege of waking up with me by his side. 
I know from my support group and from talking to so many others that are trying to rebuild their marriage that Jeff’s commitment to this marriage, to our family, and to this process is a rarity. He is truly 100% committed to whatever it takes, and he goes above and beyond in his effort to making it work. I know what a true blessing that is and I do not take that for granted. 
So I told him that although I couldn’t promise that the memories and triggers in the coming months wouldn’t sometimes make me feel sad, that I was going to do my very best to intently choose to focus on all the goodness of the present day and not let the memories and the triggers steal that from us. And in response he snuggled me right up and kissed me gently on the top of my head, and said he knows how hard those memories are, and that we would just try our best to focus on making new happy ones to replace them. 

So that’s the plan. 

I recently gave a woman in my support group some advice on how to get through a particularly hard day. I told her that when those memories pop up to just keep reminding herself that she doesn’t live there anymore, and to try and focus on all the goodness in this present moment. So I’m going to do my best to take my own advice. And I hope y’all will pray for us in these coming weeks too. That the pain of those memories will continually weaken, as we focus on building new and happier memories and reclaiming those days that were tarnished. 
❤️

Amy Thurston Gordy

Finding my focus

I’ve started trying to write something over the last couple of weeks on several occasions , but for some reason, the words just weren’t coming. I’ve just felt a little off.

These feelings started a couple of weeks ago when we had our first real argument since Jeff’s been back home. This may sound somewhat silly, but it actually kind of took me by surprise. I guess I thought somehow we wouldn’t fight over things anymore. I thought that if we survived the biggest fight a couple can have, then there was surely nothing else important enough to fight over. And I guess truthfully, a part of me thought he didn’t really have the right to get mad at me for anything. Ever. Because I’d forgiven him the biggest hurt he could have possibly inflicted on me. And he was surely so grateful that he would never find a reason to get upset with me. Of course I realize now that all those thoughts were ridiculous. Of course he’s allowed to have his own opinions and feelings. Going through this didn’t somehow make us some super couple that is so exceedingly wise and hopelessly in love that we could never disagree on anything again. There are going to be disagreements and for me to believe otherwise was just completely unrealistic. But still, I don’t think I was prepared for it just yet, and it set the stage for some insecurity to take hold.

That brought about more moments of struggle. More flashes of that imaginary movie reel that plays in my head of the affair. It happens when I least expect it. I don’t try to think about what happened. I try very hard not to think about it, but sometimes I’ll just be sitting there, and suddenly an image of them together will play through my mind. I immediately get up, and find something to do. Try to push it out of my mind with some kind of busy work. But that’s all it takes, just that one flash of a thought, and the pain settles in.
So I let the thoughts and memories get to me. I held on to them a little too long this time, trying to pretend I was ok, trying to spare Jeff from seeing my heartache. I put on my “I’m perfectly fine” face, which I’ve told y’all before never actually fools him. But I still insisted I was fine. I don’t want him to feel like he has to relive his mistakes day after day. I don’t want him to feel like I’m trying to punish him for it by bringing it up. If I just let the tears come and talk about what’s bothering me with him and get it out of my system, I’m ok again. But sometimes I want to protect him and anyone else around me from it, so instead of letting it out, I hold onto it , and it grows. And before I know it, I’ve been enveloped by it, and the thoughts start racing, and the questions come. The same unanswerable questions. And I finally reach the point that I can’t hold it in anymore, and I start asking those questions. The ones he can’t answer. The ones there is no good answer for. Although he’d much rather forget it all than ever speak of it again, he patiently talks me through it. But I can sense the frustration. And I don’t blame him for feeling it. Yet seeing that frustration scares me a little. And that fear brings more questions. If years from now, these bad moments still happen from time to time , will he reach a point where he can’t handle it anymore? Will he eventually tire of having to take care of my broken heart? Resent me for it even? Will he decide it’s just not worth it? Of course I know the fears that brought that particular set of questions to mind aren’t real. I know that he would do whatever it takes , until the end of time to help my heart heal. I know how sorry he is. I know it doesn’t feel good to watch me feel the pain that he caused. I know it doesn’t feel good to go through the same questions and answers that we’ve rehashed a dozen times. He hates what he did, and of course he doesn’t enjoy revisiting it.
I know these things are all normal. I know the healing process is complicated, and that sometimes we are going to feel like we are doing so great, only to feel in the next moment like we’ve taken 3 steps backwards.

But I can also see the progression. I know that it only gets better. Despite the occasional setbacks, I know we are taking steps forward, and into the amazing things we have ahead of us.
I know why I’ve not felt quite right the past couple of weeks. I know why the thoughts popped up more and I know why I had a harder time letting them go. I know why I couldn’t find the words to write. It’s because I was stuck. I lost my focus. I was letting the busyness of my days keep me from some important things. I wasn’t reading my Bible or my daily devotionals. I let my current self-help book sit by my bedside collecting dust. I haven’t spent enough time talking to…or listening to God. While I was gladly investing some of my time in trying to help other people in their healing process, which is definitely important and worthy of my time, and something that I feel blessed to do, I wasn’t investing that same amount of effort into my own healing. And Jeff and I weren’t spending enough time with each other. I could feel a disconnect of sorts. Which in turn brought about some feelings of fear and insecurity, and no doubt gave those negative thoughts I had been having room to grow.

The good thing is that when I stop to figure out how to get back on track, I know exactly how I got here. I know I have to take control of my thoughts and my focus, because these are the things that happen when the focus isn’t where it should be.
I have to remind myself to purge the bad thoughts as soon as they come. I have to remember to allow myself to release the pain they bring. I have to remind myself that I don’t have to protect anyone from those feelings, and that nobody expects me to. If I let it go right then and there, the flood of those unanswerable questions that those moments bring with them stays where it belongs… in the past.

So today, and every day, I have to remind myself to focus on the here and now. To focus not on the hurtful things that Jeff did, but on the person he is now. I am so proud of who he has become and I am so thankful for it. I have to remind myself to read my daily devotions, to spend time talking to and listening to God, and to take care of this marriage, this second chance at real love that we’ve been given.

I have to remind myself to focus not on the painful moments of our past, but the beauty in the moments we share now. I have to remind myself that I can’t change the past, I can’t change the fact that those things happened. I can’t control the pain that thoughts of it bring. It’s inevitable, and no amount of healing seems to make the thoughts of what happened hurt any less. But I can change my focus, and learn how to let that pain go when those thoughts come instead of staying there in that moment and allowing it to control me.

I can’t change yesterday, but I can choose how to spend today.
I’ve said before, that when you focus on the good , the goodness grows. So, I’m resetting my focus. Do you need to reset yours?

Philippians 4:8
And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.

Amy Thurston Gordy