Years ago, shortly after the book, The Shack, was published, my dad gave me his copy to read while I was visiting their house. I quickly consumed the story, loving all the highlighting and mark-ups left from my dad, noting that he also wanted to remember the parts that I wanted to remember as well. At that time in my life, the story was deeply moving to me as a way of verifying many of my own thoughts about the nature of God. I thought often about how good of a book it would be for him to read, since there's a large portion of the book dedicated to judgement and forgiveness. I sent him a copy of the book to read while he was deployed. Unfortunately, it was the wrong move. He could not get far into it because while he's apart from his family on the other side of the world in a war zone, that is not the best time to be reading a man's account of the abduction and murder of his little girl. Oops.
Out of the blue, I picked up my copy of The Shack last week and decided to re-read it. And instead of thinking about all of the ways in which the story of redemption and forgiveness would be good for him, I found myself sobbing multiple times over how it was now speaking to *my* heart. And through the re-reading of this book, I've been allowed another opportunity for growth. For learning about myself, learning about him, learning about my relationship with God.
See, I've been growing, yes. But last week we got the news that his request to transfer schools at the mid-year point was not accepted. While we knew it was highly unlikely that he would be able to transfer mid-year in his first year of law school, I was starting to get my hopes up and consider how nice it would be to be a family united. How nice it would be to have a partner who came home to me every day, and to whom I came home to as well. How nice it would be to take turns driving kids and making meals and checking on weird noises. How nice it would be to not have to go to sleep alone night after night. So, when we got word that the transfer wasn't going to happen, I fell a bit. And then I got angry. At God. How dare he answer my prayers and then leave me like this?! How dare he go so far but decide that he didn't want to go any farther in his help? How dare he lead me to believe that he was blessing his and my relationship but leave us in this horrible place of physical separation?!
Well, re-reading The Shack helped to bring me back to a state of reality. It helped me to realize/remember some very important points:
1. I'm not better at this than God is.
I really want to believe that I know best. Because many times I really believe it. I know what is the best way to do things and God should just listen to me and do it this way. Darn it!! Yet, how can I know the best way? I'm not omniscient. I don't know what all is going on and where I'm being led and all the other people and stories being interwoven and worked for the good of Him. My story is but a small one in the large scheme of things, and there are forces at work that are greater than me. God knows what's best because He sees the BIG picture. My vision is but small, and He sees how much more can be done than my small thoughts. I need to let go of my belief that I know best and trust that God, truly, knows what's going on.
2. I don't need to make sure he understands the extent of the hurt and damage he's done. I don't need him to understand that fully in order to forgive him.
This is huge for me. This is what I keep coming back to time and time again. I can forgive him, but...I can forgive him, if... For some reason I feel that he needs to understand exactly the fullness of what he's being forgiven. I need him to know how big of a person I am for forgiving him of all of this. I need him to feel the weight of it so that my lifting of the weight is known and appreciated. But that probably is not going to happen. I am learning that I will never be able to make that known to him, and that I can only trust God to make it known. And that even if he never fully understands, *it's okay*. Because through God, we can be healed, and grace means undeserved favor.
"All I want from you is to trust me with what little you can, and grow in loving people around you with the same love I share with you. It's not your job to change them, or to convince them. You are free to love without an agenda." pg 181
"Reconciliation is a two way street, and I have done my part, totally, completely, finally. It is not the nature of love to force a relationship but it is the nature of love to open the way." p. 192
3. It happened, it hurts, but it's not happening right now.
I am reminded every single day of what has happened. I have memories, visions, flashbacks, heart-crushing revelations of him and other women; the reality of certain memories; how my experiences are now understood differently. And it is hard to not let the reality of everything - the majority of my relationship with him - take me to my knees in utter disparity. I have learned a coping mechanism for moving forward. Acknowledging that what happened has happened. Acknowledging that what happened has hurt me. But also acknowledging that the things he did to hurt me, he's not doing right now. Acknowledging that he has confessed his sins, that he is repentant and is working at making things right. He is not cheating on me now. He is working to make our marriage strong.
"People are tenacious when it comes to the treasure of their imaginary independence. They hoard and hold their sickness with a firm grip. They find their identity and worth in their brokenness and guard it with every ounce of strength they have." p 189
"Forgiveness in no way requires that you trust the one you forgive. But should they finally confess and repent, you will discover a miracle in your own heart that allows you to reach out and begin to build between you a bridge of reconciliation. And sometimes...that road may even take you to the miracle of fully restored trust." p 226
4. There is a much bigger story at play, and I have a part in it, but I need to trust that God knows it all and his story is one of redemption.
I HAVE to believe that redemption is the final act. That we have a future that is beautiful. That God makes beautiful things out of dust. Out of the ashes of our sins and failures, God has the power to take the crap that we have and weave it into a beautiful story with grace, and mercy and forgiveness and redemption. That this is a love story that will blow away the pettiness of the world, and that our story might instigate the healing of others. I HAVE to believe it. And I will call our relationship redeemed because that is the power we have in our Father.
"There is power in what my children declare." p 227
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