ann kiemel

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

shop.

"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

miscarriages.

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

boundaries.

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.