I have been wrestling, struggling and resisting some pretty major life changes for over a year now. Among a variety of challenges, my (now ex, I guess) wife is leaving me.
I have come to a point of accepting (most of the time) these things. I know that I can not change them, now, because I fought them so hard and long; sometimes I foolishly fought under my own strength, other times I prayed for change, or at least understanding. I still don’t get it.
I got to that point that I had no choice but to live that whole “We have to accept the things we are powerless to change.” thing. It wasn’t like I took some neat, intellectual journey to go there. It was more like bashing my head against a brick wall, for a really long time. At some point, it just becomes stupid. Uhm, I guess bashing your head even once is stupid. But it became so stupid that I couldn’t possibly continue.
My first reaction was to be a bit like a Golden Retriever with AD/HD. (Is that redundant?) “O.K. God, I’m ready for what’s next, let’s go, let’s go, change, change change, what’s next!!!!”
I told myself I had been waiting all that time, and now it was time to move on. Over a year? That’s like 365 days. Bunches of hours. Tons of minutes. A whole lot of seconds. All that time, spinning my wheels, all that time not moving foreward, all that time resisting these irrrestible forces.
And then a conversation I had with my classroom aide crystalized some things for me.
It’s actually pretty much right now where the waiting begins.
I wasn’t waiting before. I was resisting.
Just because you’re not doing something on the outside, it doesn’t mean you’re waiting on God.
And I wasn’t waiting on God.
The whole thing is complicated by the fact that I don’t think God is a fan of divorce. So fighting for my marriage was certainly in God’s will. But I’m also clear he’s not a fan of kidnapping. And that, at this point, is the only way to hold the relationship together.
God does stuff in us when we are waiting on him. And he’s just starting with me, now. It’s something like a Sabbath, I think. This quiet time. I wish it wasn’t. But if wishes were fishes…