Category Archives: Loss

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All This Pain & A Divine Appointment

At a later stage in life our hair now in gray-white locks, we looked at each other, smiled and then embraced; it had been too many years. “I was trying to guess what you two would look like?” the joke came out of me as she and her husband stood in the entryway of my house. They both laughed and she made a witty comeback. Here they were, an old friend, one of the Christian women I long ago traveled with in college music groups back in the 70s, and her husband, also a good friend from college days.

Sometimes you know God is up to something. This was a divine appointment. I knew it the moment she called a few weeks before from their home two states away.  I’d often wished to have such an opportunity. This was perfect. There would be no distractions. I asked God to guide our time together, for Him to lead us–as to whether the conversational thread should lend itself–to the reason I believed God might be bringing our paths to cross.

The conversation was lively, invigorating, somehow with a sense of familiarity. The years peeled away. I learned what led the two of them to become united as one, their falling in love and getting married. And the jobs and kids and grandchildren. I’d always admired her when we were college students and those same thoughts surfaced as we engaged in catching up. Still vivacious and quick-thinking, her liveliness made this a fun, stimulating visit. Soon, it was her and me talking. Her husband, by doing something else, opened it up so she and I could converse one-on-one. An hour or two later the conversation provided an opening. I asked the question I’d been pondering for a couple of days.

“Tell me about your daughter. What was she like? If you’re comfortable talking about her.” My friend’s words spilled out. She was a wonderful middle child, someone who was comfortable in her own skin, who had a real faith of which she often spoke even in the secular high school where she attended. An auditorium was filled with her teenage peers on the day of her memorial service. The small coastal town of their family’s residence mourned her loss in a collective sorrowing. There was sadness, regret, and pain. My dear friend, a teacher, shared the heartache, and the particulars concerning the accident which claimed her daughter’s life. She spoke of the residual impact on their family, and how more losses of other close family members soon followed.  Life’s difficult happenings had grown into one huge pile of pain.

My friend shared how she cried out to God, “God, this is too much. I can’t handle any more of this.” I, too, remember saying those same words when my emotional energy was depleted and grief overwhelmed my soul. There are times when it’s all you can do to get up in the morning. I don’t remember what I said in response to her statement, but I identified. Words of comfort swirled back and forth and around us. We talked about how God uses our sorrows to reach out to others who are right “there” in the hurting place. There is a kinship found amongst co-sufferers. I shared some of my family’s losses of which she did not know other than my marriage ending.

“I read your book and it was helpful,” her voice softened, “Like you, I sometimes write out my prayers.” A mutual friend of ours had encouraged me to send them a copy of my book of spiritual contemplations. I hadn’t known if it was of comfort. There had been no contact. I told her about the reason behind the writing of the book, my troubled thoughts and aching heart. The writing of it provided a therapeutic exercise where I sorted out my pain and sorrows and sought God for help and healing. Her husband entered the conversation and the sense of joining intensified. I could tell pain had molded the two of them into deeper, compassionate and understanding people. It does that if you let it. The edges come off. It’s just you and God as you try to make sense of it all. The old constructs no longer fit after hardship and suffering has refined your earthen vessel.

I sensed God’s presence as the afternoon wore on and the Holy Spirit ministered to a felt need. Real friendship wrapped us in its comforting embrace. God’s grace drew us close. Tender love for my two sorrowing friends was being reflected back to me. We understood each other and it felt good.

“Want to pray?” I asked when they stood up to leave. The three of us gathered in a circle holding hands, and I began to pray. It was right to pray, to thank God for His help and goodness, and to ask a blessing for my friends. God has been good to us. All this pain is part of earthly existence; but the sweetness of shared hope speaks of heavenly promise

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. 2 Corinthians 1:3-5 ESV

A divine appointment. Hands down true.

Thank you, dear God. Amen

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How to Deal With Abandonment Issues

How does one handle being abandoned? Not very gracefully, I’m afraid. Many years ago I was abandoned…twice…and it was shocking to me to say the least. Both were traumatic experiences that jolted me and shattered my preconceived ideas of an easy and happy married life. The first time my mate left me was while the children and I were at church on a Sunday morning. We had been married five years and I was thirty; the babies were fourteen months, and three years of age. He disappeared leaving no clues behind other than a note that it was over and he was not doing well. It was hard. Harder than I ever thought possible. I didn’t hear from my husband for six weeks. By then he was living and working in Florida on the opposite coast from where the children and I lived in California. Somehow, after much travail and a visit out to see him and then his return, we got it back together, had another baby and moved the family to a lovely mountain community.

Here’s what I learned:

  1. I learned, you are stronger than you think.
  2. God will get you through the crisis.
  3. Good Christian friends hang in there with you when you are in a dark place.
  4. Seek counsel to know whether you need a legal separation and how to protect your finances.
  5. Seek counsel to make wise choices and talk it through.
  6. Trust God and pray, pray, pray.
  7. Think for yourself (this is very important). You must start thinking through possibilities for your future. Make your own choices for you are the one who will be living with them.

A few months later, what I feared most happened. History repeated itself. My husband didn’t come home from work. I called his work place. They said he left early that day. He never did show up. His car was found next to a lake with a note in it. Again, I didn’t know if he was alive or dead. The children were four years, three years, and seven months. I’d been cheated on which added an additional layer of gut-wrenching pain. My family moved us back to my hometown and furnished a place for my children and me to live. It was hard. Harder than I ever thought possible. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. We had no money coming in. I worried about my children and the messages they were receiving in their psyches. Eventually I went to work so there’d be some income to support us.  I didn’t hear from my husband for several months. He was in Arizona and living a prodigal lifestyle.

Life became difficult. My son turned five and morphed into a sullen boy. The baby was clingy. It wasn’t much fun to try and remake a life once the pieces fell apart. It’s even more confusing when you are a firm believer in Christian marriage and disbelieve in divorce as an option (even though I did have ‘just cause’). A few months later the marriage did repair, sort of. But trust was gone. It took great courage to go on after all that. I also internalized some negative beliefs about myself. Those took years to banish. Fifteen years later I was left again but this time I, at least, knew it was going to happen and this time he manned up and informed the children before leaving the marriage and splitting up our family. It was not without volumes of tears, however.

Some good advice and truths I learned:

  1. I learned, you are able to do more than you think you can.
  2. God is with you, and He will never abandon you.
  3. Christian people will be good to you. They love you in ways that speak, and they even love the erring mate.
  4. Family is a God-send, especially when they allow you to maintain your dignity and don’t over-do the advice-giving. They are sensitive. They know it’s all so embarrassing and uncomfortable for you.
  5. God becomes your Rock and your Fortress in times of great trouble.
  6. A person begins to view the future with less promise but with more resolve.
  7. Family is precious. You know you’re blessed and fortunate if you have a wonderful extended family.

How do you handle being abandoned?  I asked a moment ago. You know, there are different ways, The truth is, we must deal with it. My oldest three children, now adults, have issues that stem from the impact of those early abandonments. While in college and dating, my daughter realized she had insecurity issues. She sought counsel and found out that the early abandonments came into play. Another adult child has sought to sort out the anxiety levels he feels at times. A couple of weeks ago he asked me what he was like as a baby and as a young child. He confirmed it was as he thought. I know he’s still exploring answers to the questions from that period in his life. Yes, being abandoned affects children and their sense of security. It impacts us in a fundamental way. It damages our ability to trust. I have spent the last decade devoted to growing as an individual which includes overcoming some of the emotional hurts. My spiritual life is my greatest focus. The rest dove-tails with this desire.

To overcome the negative outfall caused by being abandoned, we must seek health and wholeness. I have some suggestions:

  1. Sort out the lies you have believed about yourself, like, no one could really want me after they get to know me. I’m ugly. I don’t matter. I never did matter.  You believed I wasn’t worth your staying around. What’s wrong with me (that you can’t love me)? Those are all lies. You do matter. You are special. Your life is a gift.
  2. Seek counsel to sort out the truth about what happened from the feelings it caused in you.
  3. Open your mind to learning and growing in spiritual and emotional ways. You want to be healthy in mind, body, and soul. It is God Who is able to fill that empty spot.
  4. Slowly but purposely allow yourself to let go of bitter and resentful thoughts that have built a wall within you, the shield you have erected as a protection against ever being hurt again. Allow yourself to forgive the offender and their offense even when they are not sorry for hurting you. This is extremely hard but wonderfully freeing. It opens the door of your self-imposed cage to let your real self out.
  5. Surround yourself with God and His peace. This makes a huge difference and is life-changing. God will begin to heal you where the wounds have penetrated deep in your heart. Christ bore your pain on His cross. He was with you when you felt all alone and betrayed by the one(s) who should have loved you better.
  6. Become knowledgeable about psychological and relational dynamics. Know what you’re dealing with and how it has impacted your emotions and spiritual side. Become as healthy and whole as you can be; for yourself, for your children, and for those you will meet on your journey through life. You’ll be glad you did. I guarantee it.

We are okay today. The troubles have passed. What happened to us was not good. There are times it comes back to me and the sting still hurts. There has been much healing since those days because I sought it. Being abandoned shapes a person. You will always remember what it felt like and the way it makes you want to self-protect. Sometimes you walk on egg shells because of uncertainty. My ex and I do not harbor ill-will toward each other. But I do remember how much it cost me those days when I didn’t know what to do and when I cried out in despair and pain. If I can help another by coming along side them, I will. By the way, my ex has agreed to let me tell our story because it will help others. I thank him for this. He, as well, was trapped by his own stuff. May he know God’s healing grace in his life.

I wish you well and may God bless you.

Norma