Time Doesn’t Heal All Wounds…

…it’s what you do with the time that heals…

Profound isn’t it?

Time DOESN’T heal all wounds.

I have wounds from as early as yesterday tht have healed better than those from over 25 years ago.

I can remember specifically something that was said to me when I was in the 4th grade, my daughter’s age, and it has stuck with me ever since.  It hurt then, and if I bring that memory up, it hurts with the same verocity that it did then.

Needless to say, I try not to drudge it up often.

But despite the fact that apologies were made, and the other person, I’m certain, feels just as bad about the words that escaped the lips, I can’t let that go; I can’t move past it; it hurts every time I think about it.  The memory does nothing but allow satan to plant the thought of what if it’s the truth? in my head each and every single time.

That wound has not healed.  It won’t heal until I choose to do something about it.  I’ve let 23 years pass without dealing with it.  I’ve not talked about it; not spoken about it with the other person, instead telling others about it, and how it made me feel.

It’s my fault that wound is still there.

Have I forgiven the person?  Yes.  I did that recently.  I understand why it was said; I can realize the situation that we were in and what prompted it to be said; I understand why it happened.

And I have forgiven.

²⁵And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive him, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.” (Mark 11:25, NIV)

³¹Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. ³²Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. (Ephesians 4:31-32, NIV)

However, there are some other wounds in my life, that time, and action have healed.

Let’s take my divorce.

(And, while I’ve not cleared this post with my ex or his wife, I hope that I’m not overstepping my bounds by speaking about it, however, I don’t think, given what I’m going to say, and by staying within my boundaries, that it’s going to be an issue…)

When my ex-husband and I separated, it was not pretty; it wasn’t amicable; it wasn’t good.  Words were said, actions taken, and all around just not a pleasant situation for either of us.  That being said, I know that any of you who have gone through a separation or divorce know that what happened between us is normal, to an extent.  When you come to the conclusion that your marriage is over, it’s hard to deal with on many levels.  One of the first things we do is put up the defenses.  We get to the point that we feel the need to protect ourselves, our feelings, and our possessions.  If a marriage is ending, feelings have already been hurt after all, we had to get to this point somehow.  However, knowing that you are now making plans to go in different directions from your spouse, you do everything humanly possible to avoid enduring additional pain.

Often times, we use words or actions to deflect our own pain and hurt back to the other person.  We say things that we don’t mean out of spite, out of not thinking clearly, or simply because they hurt us, so now we’re going to hurt them.

I know this all too well.

³⁶But I tell you that men will have to give account on the day of judgment for every careless word they have spoken. (Matthew 12:36, NIV)

²⁰ Do you see a man who speaks in haste?
There is more hope for a fool than for him. (Proverbs 29:20, NIV)

¹⁹ When words are many, sin is not absent,
but he who holds his tongue is wise. (Proverbs 10:19, NIV)

Oh, how I wish I knew the expectations of my toungue nine years ago.  But, sadly, I’m not sure that it would’ve mattered.  Because despite the words that came out of my mouth, in my mind, at the moment, I justified them.  In my mind, I was right in saying them.

But almost 9 years have passed since my ex-husband and I decided to separate.  In December of this past year, our divorce had been final for seven years.  Time had passed.

From the day that we separated and for the four years that followed, it was not pretty.  I was jaded.  I was hurt.  I was angry.

Notice all the “I” statements?

It was all about me.  I was wronged.  I was hurt.  I was treated unfairly.  I was so far up on my high horse had I fallen, I would’ve broken my neck.  I took a holier than thou attitude, because, just as in my words, I felt that I was right; that I had done nothing wrong; that I had not caused any of the events that were going on around me.

Because of HIM I had to live with my parents.  I had to take care of two children while going to school full time and working full time.  I had to tell people that I was divorced.  I had to deal with the court system.  Not once, in all those years, did I ever stop to search within myself to assess the real reason the marriage ended, or to see if I played any part in it.

Not once.

I hated him and would stop at nothing to see him suffer and I felt he hated me and did what he could to spite me.

This is how we lived.

But sometime around June of 2004, things changed.  I attribute alot of it to his then girlfriend, now wife.

Well, let me back up.  I attribute all of it to God. I firmly believe God used this woman, a woman who I WANTED to hate, who I TRIED to hate, for no other reason than because she was with him, to heal the wounds that were left gaping open when our marriage dissolved.  Make no mistake about it, I didn’t want to rekindle anything, but I didn’t want him to hurt anyone else the way that he hurt me.  I didn’t believe that he was capable of change.

Again, are we seeing the ME attitude here?

When we were deciding how to manage two children in two different households, I again, demanded the power.  I stated that the rules would be the same in each household.  I never wanted to hear “well, Dad lets me do it” from my children.  He agreed.  I told him that as long as there was a Santa, the children would wake up HERE on Christmas morning.  He agreed.  I made sure the school had the court documentation so that he was not allowed to get the children from school.  When asked for an emergency contact for the children, while I should’ve put his name first, I never did.  Regardless of the fact that he was there to help, I refused the help.

I chose to play the martyr.  I chose to play the role of the victim.  I chose to live in misery.

Know what happened?  The wound didn’t even begin to heal.  I was still bitter.  I was still angry.  I was misreable.

There were days that I didn’t even want to be around myself.

But over time, and again, I attribute it to his wife, we began to talk again and laugh.  I became less and less uncomfortable around him.  I began to feel less threatened by him.  I began to see him as someone who had a vested interest in the well being of our children.  I began to refer to them as “our” kids and not “my” kids.

Here we are almost five years later.  We have had dinners together, all of us, his wife included.  I’m helping him with a project that he’s working on, not for money, but because he needed help and I have the skill set to help him.  He and his wife have attended our church on occassion.  Often times when he picks up the kids or drops them off, we’ll sit on the porch and talk about them or laugh or cut up.  We sit at sporting events together.  He takes the kids for me, whether it’s his time or not, if I have to travel out of town for work or with the youth group.

In a nutshell, we work together for the betterment of our children.

The turning point for me was an email that I wrote him threeish years ago.  The interesting part about it was that I sent it prior to becomming a Christian, but I sat down at the computer and told him that I saw the change in him and that I appreciated the role he had in the kids’ lives.  I thanked him for stepping up, for being a father and forgave him for the past; for everything that has transpired between us, whether it be something said in a courtroom or in a heated discussion in the driveway.  I apologized for my actions, my words, and my part.  (At least I think I did.  If I didn’t, please see this as a public apology for my part in the everything, my words, my hatefulness, etc.)

As soon as I hit send, I felt better, a little vulnerable, but better.

I took action.

And today?  There is no wound.  It’s healed.  I don’t see him the way I once did.  I don’t see him as my ex-husband; I see him as a friend.  I can trust him.  I can confide in him.  I can tell him what’s going on and trust that he won’t judge me.  I know that if I need help with the kids, he’s going to be there.

Moreover, recently, my character was questioned.  Guess who went to bat for me?

My ex-husband.

I can sing the praises of his wife.  She does not have to do the things that she does for my children.  They are not hers; not her responsibility, but she, too, will step up to the plate for the kids.  I know that she’s as invested in them as we are.

My children are very fortunate.  The beauty of it all is that they KNOW they are fortunate.  I overheard Matthew talking to a freind recently whose parents had recently divorced and Matthew said to his friend, “Your parents should be like my parents.  They get along great.  They’re friends.”

Fortunately, Matthew and Samara were too young to recognize the hell that he and I went through all those years ago.  Their memory only houses images of us as freinds and two parents who truly work together for them and their well-being.

And for that, I am eternally grateful.  I am grateful that I was able to come off my high-horse.  I am grateful that he changed.  I am grateful for the role that his wife has played in all of this.  I am grateful that God moved through all of this.  I am grateful that I was able to take action.

I am grateful that the wound has healed.

There are still other wounds that need healing; they are in need of action.

I am grateful that I have people in my life that are willing to encourage me to work on those wounds.

But I more grateful that I serve a mighty God who is going to be with me, and encouraging me to “keep on keeping on” that I need to take action with these wounds.

² When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze. (Isaiah 43:2, NIV)

Until next time…