Tomorrow morning, I will load up the car and drive to Richmond with Jon. We will spend the next couple of days with my parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins celebrating Thanksgiving.
I’ve been trying to remember what last Thanksgiving was like – how I felt and how I handled my circumstances. Honestly, I cannot recall specifics, and I did not do any writing or journaling during that time. Here’s what I do remember – I knew the divorce was coming and I knew I couldn’t do anything about it. I felt manipulated because on the heels of trying to work things out was the demand for a revised financial agreement, and I had discovered that I had been lied to about his continued involvement with the other woman. I was holding myself together enough to function during the day. I had no energy for anything besides work (and that was out of necessity), and I made the hard decision of starting anti-depressants because I did not see an end to the heartache and despair.
Today, everything is different. I feel like I’m bursting with thankfulness.
I’m thankful for my parents, sister, and the rest of my family, who have always been supportive and loving. They have gone above and beyond these past two years; they supported me as I prayed for and pursued reconciliation (and I know that was hard for them, my dad especially). They helped pick up the pieces when that didn’t happen. They continue to give godly advice and to set godly examples.
I’m thankful for all my friends — too many to name — who have prayed with me and for me, who refused to let me hide forever, who encouraged me, who reminded me that God is bigger, stronger, and more loving than my limited view could see. Friends who let me sit quietly (often tearfully) in their living rooms, classrooms, offices, and random public places – just because I needed to know I wasn’t alone.
I’m thankful for Jon, who is consistently caring, loving, and encouraging. He never seems to get tired of me – whether I’m goofing off or breaking down. I honestly didn’t think I was worth that type of effort (and I still don’t always believed that I am), but he’s pretty determined to change my mind. I feel like I’m more “me” now with him than I have been in a long time; that’s one of the many reason I love him.
I still have days when I battle anger, depression, insecurity, and pain, but by God’s grace I am so much healthier than I was last year (and medication free). I’ve finally realized that it isn’t about being “done” healing; instead, it’s about seeing God’s hand in the midst of the healing, repairing one wound at a time.
Above all, I am thankful that God heals and restores.
I am thankful that He sees what we do not.
I am thankful that He never abandons us.
I am thankful that God uses wounded, broken people.
I am thankful that I am His and He is mine.
I am thankful that nothing can ever change that.