With my husband out of town, I woke up earlier than usual feeling relaxed. Reflecting on our marriage, I recalled the first time I felt afraid of him.
My precious kitty had developed skin cancer on her soft pink nose due to sun exposure. Tears had burned my eyes with the thought of euthanasia. Needing empathy, I expressed my concerns to my husband. Who knew that could happen to a cat?
Kitty had been a skinny, straggly, stray, begging daily for food and affection. I allowed my children to pet her, but insisted we were not in the market for a pet. We simply called her Kitty—by not naming her we would not grow attached. When my neighbor observed that the cat was pregnant, I knew I couldn't turn my back on the poor thing, and we officially adopted Kitty.
Soon Kitty had four babies. The pretty calico soon developed a mean streak. The yellow tabby with big feet brought such laughter that my kindergartner named him Proud-Walker. The runt we called Cutie. A neighbor’s child claimed the unnamed fourth kitten.
Of course, anyone with young children and a litter of kittens knows how those kids wear down any mother begging to keep them all. No. But I did cave with keeping Cutie along with her mother, Kitty. My kids had those two pets as bedfellows their entire childhoods. By the time Kitty got skin cancer, they were busy teenagers with a lifetime of memories, so the diagnosis hit hard.
Heartsick, I faced the decision of euthanasia.
Pouring out my heartache to my husband, I expected sympathy, a hug, comfort. Instead, he said, “Take her to the vet. They will do it—then put her in a plastic bag and throw her out.” He didn’t skip a beat, rather went about his important day without a flinch.
Horrified, I felt sick as if I’d been punched in the stomach.
As Kitty suffered more each day, I knew she needed an end to her suffering. I called the vet. The children and I went to the dreaded appointment with our scared Kitty wrapped in a soft blanket. The doctor, filled with compassion, performed the necessary deed. Rewrapping our limp Kitty in her blanket, we drove home. Other than digging a hole for the burial, my husband didn't speak or participate in our little funeral. The girls and I wept.
That night, the nightmares began. In the dream, when I died, my husband wrapped me in a plastic bag and threw me out. I woke up screaming in horror. I felt helpless. Violated. With the dream recurring night after night, I asked my doctor to prescribe sleeping pills.
The experience seems as if it occurred yesterday. The recollection triggers difficult emotions. At the time, I lacked education about emotional abuse—my normal.
What I know now that I didn’t know then . . .
• Emotional abuse may lead to chronic pain, depression and anxiety.
• Emotional abuse occurs when a person’s words instill fear.
• Emotional abuse occurs when your spouse remains indifferent to your pain.
• The sleeping pills led to a dependency on prescription drugs.
This experience, while unhealthy, was my "normal." Until I realized I had a problem, God could not teach me His ways. Until I learned the dynamics of abuse and dysfunction, I could not learn how to relate in healthy relationships. God led me on a long journey of healing and recovery. With his loving arms around me, and by His almighty power, my life has been transformed from a helpless victim to a woman of strong faith seeking to fulfill His purposes for my life--God pleasing instead of people-pleasing.
If you are sick and tired of being sick and tired, please join me in pursuit of God, recovery, and transformation.
Here's my number one resource--Life Recovery Bible.
Dear God, with Valentine's Day around the corner, I'm supposed to feel happy. Instead, disenchantment floods my mind, because I don't have a man to love me. Heart-shaped balloons and fancy decorated cupcakes haunt me at the grocery store. Ads for gifts flood social media. Even Seven-Eleven sells roses for last-minute lovers. The office provides no solace. Excited women gather to chat and giggle about upcoming dates, romantic dinners and jewelry they hope to receive. Cards and flowers adorn every desk except mine. When I arrive home from work, no one greets me--silence and darkness await. Who cares that I'm late? Who knows if I'm sick or sad? Who shares my sorrows and joys? It's not that I don't want someone to love. You know I've tried to develop meaningful relationships, but in the end nothing lasts except disappointment. God, my loneliness screams louder than the annoying buzz of the refrigerator keeping me company at night. God, what am I to do? Samantha My Dear Samantha, I've seen your precious heart trampled and betrayed as you wonder if you will ever find a suitable husband. I know how living alone depresses you, especially on a Hallmark holidays such as Valentine's Day. When you arrive home from work downcast, although you don't see Me, I am waiting for you. On days your heart feels sick or empty, I offer you My compassions and tender care. In the night as tears soak your pillow, I wipe each one. Many women settle for mass-produced cards with sentiments that fade along with their relationships. But, I wrote you a treasure of love letters in the Bible to express My everlasting love for you. Samantha, My mind overflows with caring thoughts of you all the time, not merely one day of the year. Red balloons pop. Chocolates disappear. Pink. flowers wilt. But My faithful love remains with you for eternity. I know you need someone that's faithful and strong. If you give Me your undivided affection, I'll lavish you with My love until you believe that I am the One you're trying to find to fill the hole in your heart. Samantha, will you join Me for supper at My house on February 14 to share an appetizer of wine and bread? Will you be My forever Valentine? Love, God
Winding my way to God began when Daddy dropped me off at church.
I hate Christmas. When I think of celebrating, sadness wraps around me like a heavy, drab coat.
When I realized abuse resides in my home, I trembled and cried. God what should I do?
How could I stop the hurtful relationships? How could I overcome the heartache they caused?
Emotional abuse systematically wears away ones self-confidence and sense of worth.
My tumultuous emotions crashed like waves against boulders. Why do I feel beaten?
When I hear the news about the rapid spread of Coronavirus, anxiety grips my heart.
Feeling lonely hurts, but no matter how helpless and forgotten you feel, find hope here.
God, where are you in the midst of this pandemic?
