Saturday, December 7

though i had traveled the
world and spoken to thousands
at a time; and, with God's
blessing, written multiple, best
sellers and qualified for three,
boston marathons....and,

though i had fearless faith
in Jesus, the Savior and
Deliverer of the world....

there was something about the
events of my childhood that
stole a stable, inner balance
from my core. my father languished
the fact that my brother was not
a Christian. and it scared me
when he would fast and pray
for ten days at a time. i was sure
my dad was going to die.

so i strived to make my godly
father happy. my older
brother was angry, and his rage
scared me. it sewed fear into
the seams of my psyche, and
thus, i became a woman compelled
to keep will happy. to be a perfect
wife. it was so natural for my
husband to run the show. though
i didn't know where his income
was, he and his father had created the biggest, 
seed potato ranch in the world.

will's father had died years before,
and my husband had been groomed
to take over. to be the boss. he
stepped into marriage 
with the same mentality. 
as with the ranch, he was our boss. the
thought of mutuality was not a
concept he really grasped. but....
neither did i understand that there
are special gifts in us all, and it
was my responsibility to protect
and take care of me and the
children...and even will if he was
not catching it.

there were hundreds of times 
when i needed to pull on my big-girl boots.  
stand with my back rigid,
and refuse to bend to some whim
of will's.

we were all in the car,
going to a walk-in hair-cutting

"honey, the best person there is
named tom. he's excellent. gay,
with some funny quirks, but he's
really skilled."

words spit through the narrow
spaces in his teeth.
"NO gay man is going to cut
my hair!!!!"

a chill ran down my spine.
"stop!!!"i hissed.
"i mean it, ann. don't you
dare put me in that position."
i held onto the door.
praying. breathing...gulping...
contaminated air.

somehow, i held my tongue until late that night 
after the children were
tucked in beds, and will and i were
behind our own, closed doors.
i whispered out screams. i cried
until my throat was raw. my eye-
lids were swollen. reminding
my tall, curly-haired, handsome
husband that he was a pharisee.
a fool. that Jesus is ALL about
love and mercy..that if he ever
spoke like that again in front of
the children, he would seriously
regret it.

most of the time, i just swallowed
the  pain...and let bitterness
soak up the pure places in me.
it made me physically sick. i
swallowed my pain pills and
developed kidney infections and

i breathed every breath for my
children. bike rides and ice cream
and talking in the dark at bedtime.
will alienated himself from us. i
never knew what he was going
to do next, but i allowed fear to
consume me, and a healthy person
would have seen her addiction.
grown up. and established some

tomorrow is the end of this saga.
a picture of what Jesus can do
when both husband and wife
care enough to get well. i'm not
an absolutist. God hates divorce,
but He hates other things even
more. i just know miracles can
live, and children deserve parents
who can shed diseased thinking 
and live out beautiful,
God-centered love.


  1. These were beautiful and honest thoughts. Thank you for sharing them.

  2. Thanks for the thoughts, Ann. I know LOTS of us who journeyed with you back then are eager to read more of your insights, life and inspiration. Truth be told, if we could all get together we would all have stories to tell. Life has a way of bringing us all to level ground as we go along.