Friday, March 1, 2013

Leaning How to Die

About a year ago, I said the last words I would ever speak to the other man.  While the affair had ended, and I hadn't seen him in a week and a half, we did talk.

One last time.

It started over something stupid.  I initiated the conversation, expecting a simple answer.  Instead, what transpired was a 30 minute phone conversation.  We talked about our lives, and the huge changes that had taken place since we said goodbye on February 19th.  We talked about the Power of Purity conference I had attended days prior and how we felt about each other, about letting go, about saying goodbye.



I was thrilled that I was back home with Kris, but there was still something that needed to be resolved and for me, that phone conversation resolved it.  I felt at peace with who we had been, how we left things, and who we were to become moving forward. 

But deep within was a turmoil of emotions.  My heart was broken.  Right or wrong, it is how I felt at the time.  I felt like I was losing a part of who I was.  I had wrapped my life and emotions around this man for over seven years and it was not easy to see all that we had slipping away.  No.  More than slipping away.  It was a severance.  It was the only way.  We couldn't talk anymore.  We couldn't email or text.  We couldn't just be friends.

Sure.

I was home with a man who accepted me and loved me unconditionally; a man who was willing to look past all of the ugly truth, to who I really was.  But to say that I instantly overcame all that I felt for this other man would be lying.  To be completely honest, I STILL haven't opened up that door and dealt with the death I felt that day, severing my relationship with him. 

I will. 

Someday. 

For now, it's buried deep inside of me, in a place I cannot reach without digging deep.  Is it unhealthy to keep it buried?  Likely.  But I know what I need to do (i.e. we've discussed it in counseling), and when I am ready to open that wound and deal with my feelings, good and bad, I will.

That day we last spoke, one of the things we talked about was music.  We had always connected in this way, and so it seemed appropriate to talk about a topic that had drawn us in.  We talked about all the music we had begun listening to; songs that spoke of forgiveness for our sins, and God's love. And we talked about the love we were giving up, in order to make our marriages work. 

One song in particular I had just heard.  It was a song that would follow me into the healing and restoration of my marriage.  A song that, in the beginning, made me weep because I knew something I loved was being ripped away from me.  Now, the song brings tears of joy for the understanding I have of God's love and forgiveness.  Tears of healing and peace and gratefulness for what God has done in my marriage, and in my heart.

You see, while the affair made me feel alive, I wasn't.  It made me feel like I could do anything, be anyone.  And yet, it was killing me.  It stripped away anything truly good, and to the depth of my soul, I was dying. 

Little by little. 

One compromise after another.

I was learning how to die.

And that is the song I want to share with you today.  It is even more dear to me because it was written by Jon Foreman, who is one of the greatest lyricists there has ever been, and my personal favorite.  And the lyrics to this particular song...

...it's eerie really how closely this resembles the conversatoin we had that day, as we closed the final chapter of the misguided story we wrote together.

Tread lightly.

Be very careful when you make decisions in your life.

Make sure that they are good ones.

Even the seemingly small ones.

Make choices that will lead to life, and not to death. I've been at death's door, spiritually anyway, and it is a place of darkness, confusion, and fear. Nothing good comes from even dipping your toes into that water. It might look peaceful and bright and good. But it isn't. Take it from someone who has been there. Who has compromised values and her very self, and found that when it is all said and done, that path leads only to death.

And yet, there is still hope. For those who are in that place, or who love someone who is knocking at death's door.

There is always hope.

It is found at the foot of the Cross.


Learning How To Die - Jon Foreman
I'm gonna miss you
I'm gonna miss you
When you're gone
She says I love you
I'm gonna miss hearing your songs

And I said please
Don't talk about the end
Don't talk about how
Every living thing goes away
She said friend
All along I thought
I was learning how to take
How to bend not how to break
How to live not how to cry
But really
I've been learning how to die
I've been learning how to die

Hey everyone
I got nowhere to go
The grave is lazy
He takes our body slow

And I said please
Don't talk about the end
Don't talk about how
Every living thing goes away
She said friend
All along I thought
I was learning how to take
How to bend not how to break
How to live not how to cry
But really
I've been learning how to die
I've been learning how to die
Die, die
I've been learning how to die

 
http://aproverbs31wife.com/category/of-family-matters/helpmeet/

1 comment:

  1. The end of anything can be hard. You are so courageous not only to make your marriage work but also to tell your story. It stripped away anything good...wow. So powerful.

    ReplyDelete