Deep Breath. Here We Go.

We were happy once. It's just the bittersweet truth. There was a time when we lived in blissful denial of the pain we had caused and ultimately, the pain we would cause eachother. 

See for awhile now, I've been thinking I need to tell this story. For you to understand me. For me to be able to talk to you. 

We need to have this conversation. 

I don't like feeling as though a secret is hiding in the corner, waiting to pounce. Living in the light is vulnerable, terrifying, but necessary. Especially if I'm going to tell you that I am nothing. My righteousness is nothing. That really, honestly, when it comes down to it, I needed, need and will need salvation.

This is the kind of conversation I prefer to have over coffee on my couch while tucking my knees under my chin. Or over a glass of wine, late at night when we've both exhausted our stories and it's time for the real stuff to come out.

The story of the other woman. The story of me.

I don't feel like I need to give you the gruesome details. But I will tell you the honest ones. 

...The true story that a few years ago, before my husband was mine, he was someone else's. 

...That before he vowed to spend the rest of his life with me, he was vowed to someone else.

...That through lies, deception, secrecy and selfishness, I played a part in the story of a broken home, a divorced couple, and the division of children. 

I wish I could tell you that I immediately recognized the error my ways and backed out of my folly with fierce repentance.

But I didn't. 

I ran. 

Far away. 

Partially to escape my own insanity. And partially to see if he would follow. I broke relationship with the people I love — my family, my friends, my mentors, my pastor — all of them. I allowed my heart to turn cold against them and found comfort in the easy, do-it-yourself mantra of the world. Sin became relative. Principles were old-fashioned. 

Within a year he was divorced and we were planning our wedding. The wedding that would have been celebrated for three years this fall.

Except, it didn't work that way. And I've watched over the past 18 months as the faulty building we tried to build on shifting sand tumbled into the sea. 

And in the past 12 months, I've found something even more shocking.

— Grace —

Nothing else, neither good or bad, has stopped me in my tracks like the reckless, unimaginable beauty of the Grace of God. I've found reconciliation with broken relationships. Forgiveness where I thought the hearts were too tired of me. Hope. Joy. Restoration. 

5+ years of running and hiding wore me out. The dissolution of my broken marriage brought both pain and relief. 

And now, we move forward. 

Me and the sweet girl who is not yet two. The girl who will one day be a part of a story that God uses the foolish things of this world to shame the wise. That he exchanges beauty for ashes. That a broken spirit and a contrite heart He will not despise. 

I won't get into more. It's not the best way to tell you all of this. 

But I wanted to start here. With this ugly, broken, being-redeemed truth. I am full aware that I may lose some of you because of this. That I may get enemies simply because pain breeds pain. I can't help that. I just have to rest in knowing that my Dad accepts me and forgives me. And really, that's all that matters.