Usually when I
write it is like God gives me pearls on a string and I see it from start
to finish. Now I am writing and I can't see the end … well maybe.
We
had some friends over. Danny was steaming oysters. It was cold. The
three ladies snuggled in blankets even in the house. Two of Danny's
friends, my son and his friend, and my grandson added six more.
After
one of the ladies left, it was just a distant friend and I sitting
inside. Breaking the ice, I said, “You may not know that I relapsed?”
She was great—so understanding. She said, “I have heard being a coach's
wife is hard.” I had never admitted that to myself. “Clemson was so
good to us and I knew the blessings of not having to move my family
around a lot like most others,” I told her.
I began to remember
our move to Arkansas. I thought about when we moved out of the
University House and stored all our things in the barn at the farm. We
then moved to our fairly small lake house. We bought a sectional
teal-colored sofa that filled the one great room with a beautiful rock
fireplace. We still had some of our first furniture pieces also which
were very special to me.
But when Danny got the coaching job in
Arkansas, he bought a house and most of the previous owner's furniture
before I got there. He sold our lake home and all the furniture. So I
walked out of our home with all my treasured memories into a house I had
never seen. It may seem silly thinking like that, because we did have a
job—I know, I know. Still I left family in Alabama, moved twelve hours
away from everything I knew—my dear church and friends—to what was to
be a harder situation that would only get even harder. I did love my
new church and friends there. I met some great people. I think I have
let that keep me from feeling the loss I had all those years ago until
now.
I talked to Danny and my youngest daughter who is getting
her Christian Counselor degree about all this. They both said to move
on. This was a hard time for us, but there were also good times. I am
now deciding that I am one who can learn from my past, but that I cannot
dwell there. God was with us and kept us, and I press on, releasing
what lies behind me forevermore. It is not wrong to visit the past but
we cannot live there.
When I return to writing online, I will
write a conclusion to the “The Interview,” but I am letting the past
go. Working through those old memories was what caused me to spiral
after having such a great year or remission. I am refusing to live in
the past any more. I'm mailing this to Martha to type and post because I
don't want to re-read. It will be several days past when you read
it—so no worries, I am doing good.
I don't have to grieve all the
events I have stuffed away all these years. I can acknowledge that it
was hard when it comes to mind, but now in faith, move on. I'm so
thankful for this season especially.
I am still learning to stay
well and trust. My daughter, Elizabeth is going to make a great
counselor. Danny is pretty wise too. Thanks to all of you for your
prayers and love. It has carried me through.
I will trust in You, Lord, and not be shaken. “When doubts filled my mind, Your comfort gave me renewed hope and cheer.” Psalms 94:19
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