Freedom Is Not Free
Sometimes life is uncertain. Sometimes life is just plain old difficult to understand. Sometimes life throws us a curve ball and no matter how intelligent you are, no matter how many degrees you have sometimes life just does not make sense.
My birthday was March 27th and while I was incredibly thankful for another year, it also brought back images of a time in my life I did not remember. March 27th is when I celebrate "My New Year". It is during this time that I reflect on what went right - and conversely, what may have gone wrong. My successes and my failures all wrapped up with my thoughts as I dine on my customary serving of cake and ice cream.
This March 27th was especially difficult. My daughter's father was pronounced dead. The unfamiliar tone as the details were given to us which ended with "he is gone" will be with me for a while. As we prepare for his funeral I have such mixed emotions because my daughter's father was also my abuser.
As I read his obituary, I can easily think of the person he was when we fell in love. You know... the "good times". Oh, God, we laughed and we took trips. We sat at family gatherings like we were in love to the fullest. We went to counselling as we were making life decisions as I did not want us to produce a child without making vows to be trustworthy parents. Oh, but our outward demonstration of adoration suddenly came to a screeching halt. Once our daughter was born - I lost the man I loved. I don't know if he was worried about the institution of parenthood and the covenant of marriage all I know is that the streets became more important to him than me.
I will view his corpse in a few days. I am grateful that through him the gift of our daughter was given but in a way for the first time I feel free. It is a peace that passes my own understanding. Let me make this clear, I am not in any way "happy" that he is gone because he suffered with his terminal cancer diagnosis. I am free from that part of my heart that was aching. I wanted to have a relationship with him for the sake of our daughter but by the time I completed the state of forgiving him for what I endured during his rants of anger - the cancer in his throat rendered him unable to speak. I wrote out the sinner's prayer and reminded him that a relationship with God is a very personal one. One note here... I am not perfect by any means BUT when faced with being beat versus leaving - I chose to LEAVE.
I feel more concrete in writing to you - and the irony is - it will be difficult seeing him in a casket. I was told that when he got to the hospital, the chaplain and one of his family members prayed with him and said the "Lord's Prayer" - by the time they finished saying "AMEN" - he closed his eyes and went home - I truly believe he is with the Lord.
During this Easter season of remembering the death, burial and resurrection of our soon coming King ... preparing for his funeral feels like I am being beaten - I so want someone to carry my personal cross - I am dying inside thinking of what was, what could have been and ultimately my reality - but I rise. I rise to complete the mission set before me. The mission to encourage women and men everywhere that there is life beyond
Ask me how I know - with God holding my hand - I did it.
Freedom IS NOT free - but it IS worth it.
Pray for me as I journey to his funeral.
My birthday was March 27th and while I was incredibly thankful for another year, it also brought back images of a time in my life I did not remember. March 27th is when I celebrate "My New Year". It is during this time that I reflect on what went right - and conversely, what may have gone wrong. My successes and my failures all wrapped up with my thoughts as I dine on my customary serving of cake and ice cream.
This March 27th was especially difficult. My daughter's father was pronounced dead. The unfamiliar tone as the details were given to us which ended with "he is gone" will be with me for a while. As we prepare for his funeral I have such mixed emotions because my daughter's father was also my abuser.
As I read his obituary, I can easily think of the person he was when we fell in love. You know... the "good times". Oh, God, we laughed and we took trips. We sat at family gatherings like we were in love to the fullest. We went to counselling as we were making life decisions as I did not want us to produce a child without making vows to be trustworthy parents. Oh, but our outward demonstration of adoration suddenly came to a screeching halt. Once our daughter was born - I lost the man I loved. I don't know if he was worried about the institution of parenthood and the covenant of marriage all I know is that the streets became more important to him than me.
I will view his corpse in a few days. I am grateful that through him the gift of our daughter was given but in a way for the first time I feel free. It is a peace that passes my own understanding. Let me make this clear, I am not in any way "happy" that he is gone because he suffered with his terminal cancer diagnosis. I am free from that part of my heart that was aching. I wanted to have a relationship with him for the sake of our daughter but by the time I completed the state of forgiving him for what I endured during his rants of anger - the cancer in his throat rendered him unable to speak. I wrote out the sinner's prayer and reminded him that a relationship with God is a very personal one. One note here... I am not perfect by any means BUT when faced with being beat versus leaving - I chose to LEAVE.
I feel more concrete in writing to you - and the irony is - it will be difficult seeing him in a casket. I was told that when he got to the hospital, the chaplain and one of his family members prayed with him and said the "Lord's Prayer" - by the time they finished saying "AMEN" - he closed his eyes and went home - I truly believe he is with the Lord.
During this Easter season of remembering the death, burial and resurrection of our soon coming King ... preparing for his funeral feels like I am being beaten - I so want someone to carry my personal cross - I am dying inside thinking of what was, what could have been and ultimately my reality - but I rise. I rise to complete the mission set before me. The mission to encourage women and men everywhere that there is life beyond
Ask me how I know - with God holding my hand - I did it.
Freedom IS NOT free - but it IS worth it.
Pray for me as I journey to his funeral.
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