No One Who Hopes in You Will Ever Be Put to Shame

Last night didn't end well. 

She was happy she had a date because she really liked this guy and thought he was cute.  Apparently, he reciprocated the feelings, and thus far, had been a gentleman. For example, he had arranged a date twice, and had picked her up from the house both times.  That was new for her.  Likewise, he had made the choice not to text her, other than to make arrangements for the date.  This was also new for her.  The not-texting thing made her a little crazy at first because it was something that she was not used to.  However, she seemed to understand that it was good because when he wanted to visit with her, he preferred to do it face-to-face instead of via text.  (Plus, he has something like three jobs, so he probably doesn't have time to text.)

Anyway,  all went well (supposedly) until it was time to say good night. 

I woke up. I heard the truck outside my bedroom window.  It was right around midnight.  Normally, it's a short goodbye and she is in the house.  Tonight that wasn't case.  It was dragging out.  I understand if you're sitting in the truck, wrapping things up, but I had heard them exit the vehicle, heard the crunch of footsteps in the snow, so I knew they were out there. 

I made a terrible mistake.  I got up. 

Then, I made another terrible mistake.  I looked out the bathroom window, only to see the two of them practically hoover-ing each other's faces off.  The sight still inspires indigestion.  It's my own fault.

I have to say I was appalled.  I know that I'm old school.  But seriously? Second date, and they're already making out like that?  And she had just broken up with her other boyfriend less than two weeks ago. 

There goes my stomach again. 

Anyway, I waited, even went back to bed to wait it all out.  I was disappointed, but what do you do?

And then, it got worse.  I heard them get into the truck and drive away.

What would you think?

I immediately lost my shit.  Like lost it.  Fortunately, my husband was clueless.  He had had an extra dosage of fresh air for the day, and was blissfully unaware. 

I went into the living room.  I wrapped myself in the blanket from the couch and started rocking back and forth, bawling.  I'm not proud to admit it, but I started banging my head against the floor. 

Again, I'm not proud of it, but I got on my phone, and I started calling.  In all, I ended up calling her 21 times, and each time it went to voicemail.  Why call so many times, you might ask?  What's the matter with me?

I foolishly thought I could intervene.  If I could just get through, I could shake her from current delusion under which she was operating.  So, I hit re-dial.  Again and again.  I left two voicemails - nothing that I am ashamed of.  Just desperate messages.  Full of sadness.

Then, I switched to texting.  Today's generation doesn't respond well to calls as much as texts, so I thought I might be able to get through to her that way.  Even so.  Deep down, I knew it was a hopeless cause.  Her mind, her heart, and her body were all elsewhere.  Unreachable.

I didn't text anything that I am ashamed of either.  In the past, I would have exploded all over, saying things I would later regret.  This time around, it was desperate:

(     ), where are you going?
I got up to make sure the door is unlocked.
I am waiting here. You told me. You TOLD me this wasn't going to happen.  I am about to throw up right here on the floor. 
You won't pick up.
I have called
And called.
Where are you?
I don't care if you think I'm crazy.  This is your second date.
Two weeks after you broke up with your last boyfriend.
(     )
(     )
(     )
Pick up.
Pick up.
Come home now.
Right now
Don't do this.
Don't do this.
Don't do this.
I don't know what else to do.  I have called. And texted. I have been praying.  I can only hope that God intervenes right now.

And then, I got up off the floor and sleepwalked to the chair. My chair.
I started praying, but the prayer were so scrambled.  Nothing made sense.
Then, I pulled out my Bible and begged. Begged for some direction as to what to read. 

I don't know why, but I pulled all my hair over my face and hid my head under a blanket. I could barely see the words on the page. I had been crying so hard that my eyes were almost swollen shut, my nose was completely blocked, and tears were staining and smudging the pages. 

Somehow, as if in a dream, I turned to Psalm 13, where I read:

How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
    How long will you hide your face from me?
2 How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
    and day after day have sorrow in my heart?    How long will my enemy triumph over me?

3 Look on me and answer, Lord my God.
    Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death,
4 and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,”
    and my foes will rejoice when I fall.

5 But I trust in your unfailing love;
    my heart rejoices in your salvation.
6 I will sing the Lord’s praise,
    for he has been good to me.

Then,  I skipped to Psalm 23 and 25. 

In you, Lord my God,    I put my trust.

2 I trust in you;
    do not let me be put to shame,
    nor let my enemies triumph over me.
3 No one who hopes in you    will ever be put to shame,
but shame will come on those
    who are treacherous without cause.

4 Show me your ways, Lord,
    teach me your paths.
5 Guide me in your truth and teach me,
    for you are God my Savior,
    and my hope is in you all day long.
6 Remember, Lord, your great mercy and love,
    for they are from of old.
7 Do not remember the sins of my youth
    and my rebellious ways;
according to your love remember me,
    for you, Lord, are good.

8 Good and upright is the Lord;
    therefore he instructs sinners in his ways.
9 He guides the humble in what is right
    and teaches them his way.
10 All the ways of the Lord are loving and faithful
    toward those who keep the demands of his covenant.
11 For the sake of your name, Lord,
    forgive my iniquity, though it is great.

12 Who, then, are those who fear the Lord?
    He will instruct them in the ways they should choose.[b]
13 They will spend their days in prosperity,
    and their descendants will inherit the land.
14 The Lord confides in those who fear him;
    he makes his covenant known to them.
15 My eyes are ever on the Lord,
    for only he will release my feet from the snare.

16 Turn to me and be gracious to me,
    for I am lonely and afflicted.
17 Relieve the troubles of my heart
    and free me from my anguish.
18 Look on my affliction and my distress
    and take away all my sins.
19 See how numerous are my enemies    and how fiercely they hate me!

20 Guard my life and rescue me;
    do not let me be put to shame,
    for I take refuge in you.
21 May integrity and uprightness protect me,    because my hope, Lord,[c] is in you.

22 Deliver Israel, O God,
    from all their troubles!

Over and over, I read Psalm 23:

The Lord is my Shepherd,

I shall lack nothing.

He makes me lie down in green pastures,

He leads me beside quiet waters.

He restores my soul.

He guides me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, 

I will fear no evil.

For your rod and staff comfort me.

You prepare a table for me in the presence of my enemies.

You anoint my head with oil.

My cup overflows.

Surely, goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life.

And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Each time I read it, I said it as a prayer and envisioned myself as a sheep being led, especially while walking through the valley of the shadow of death.  I envisioned Christ in front of me with his rod and staff, gently touching my side when I got to close to the edge.  

That's what it was like.

For two hours.  

I prayed and prayed for a Divine intervention.  I asked God to consider all the work that had been done thus far, to continue the work.  

My breathing slowed as I considered my powerlessness in this situation.  “Child,' said the Lion, 'I am telling you your story, not hers. No one is told any story but their own.”  Her journey was not my journey. I was on my own, and it was a faith journey.  

During that entire two hours, it was as if I was someone else, somewhere else.  My sense of reality was suspended.  I don't know how to describe it.  I just did not feel as though I was in reality.  And then, I remembered Psalm 91: "He will cover you with His feathers; and under His wings you will find refuge."  As I recalled this verse, I realized that my head was still under the covers. I was finding refuge in the storm.  

Suddenly, I heard a voice say: "Sing to me."  

I was startled from my stupor, wondering if I heard what I heard. Then, I heard it again, 

"Sing to me."

Ordinarily, I would have probably rolled my eyes and laughed it off, but I was so despondent that I didn't think twice.  I started singing.  First, I tried to muddle my way through "10,000 Reasons" and switched to "Blessed Be the Name of the Lord." 

As I was singing, she came in the door, startled by the wreck she encountered by the window.  

She immediately started talking. . .Nothing happened.  We just talked.  I told him that I was saving myself for marriage.  Nothing happened.  

What do you do?  Do you believe?  She has lied so much in the past.  What does it matter, if she is telling the truth or not?  There is absolutely nothing I can do about it.

I waved her off. My nerves were shot.  Still are.  I have been through so much, unfairly so. Just when I think I can't take it anymore, or I mistakenly think the worst of it has passed, there is a new challenge to push me to the brink all over again.

Worst of all, there is no one you can talk to about this stuff.  You have to just suck it up and suck it in deep. Although this is my story and my journey, I also share it with someone.  I can't share my part of the story without exposing someone else's part. And so, here I sit, stuffing, hiding, pushing through.  

The average observer sees nothing different. I tell myself to smile when I encounter someone.  I always know when I have been frowning for extended periods of time because the pressure of the tightening of the muscles as they lift the corners of my mouth will surprise. It's an unexpected sensation.  I laugh heartily on cue, when expected.  I ask the right questions. I get everything done in the time and quality expected. I am the same person s/he encounters on a daily basis, only a little quieter than I used to be.  

That's because I have lost my voice.  I used to be so vocal about everything, so confident in who I was, as if I thought I was a wise, enlightening person - the one with the answers and logic.  Parenting, teaching, faith. . .you name it, and I felt as though I had it all figured out. Now I know the truth. 

Actually, I haven't lost my voice; I have just  put it away.  I have encased it in stone, because it's not worth hearing.  I prefer to hide in plain sight.

So why am I writing this then?  For two reasons.  First, I need to get rid of this poison inside me.  If I don't release it, it just destroys me.  This is how I process - I get it all out and somehow, I find a direction - a new place to go.  Second, I want it to be crystal clear that I cannot and am not doing this on my own.  Without God, there is no way I could take another step or make it another day.  

So where do we go from here?  I don't know.  I just know that I have to stay close to the Shepherd.  That's the only way I am going to make it through this valley called life.  I envision myself hanging on to His belt, my eyes trained on the details of that belt.  When I look to the right or to the left, or when I let go of the belt, I immediately find myself alone, wandering, and crying in the dark.  Following His lead and sticking close to His side are the only options at this point.