Leaving

There are different kinds of leaving.

There is the kind of leaving that has defined most of my marriage:

An emotional abandonment; a mental disconnection.

I was invisible and was never important enough; sane enough; strong enough.

I wasn't like other wives.

I wasn't like other women.

And other women were in my husband's head.

Which means he was always leaving me.

Every second; every minute; every hour, his heart was traveling farther and farther away from me.

And then there is the physical act of leaving.

Last January, almost exactly 4 months ago, my husband physically left.

We mutually agreed.

But I have never in my entire life felt pain and panic like I did then.

I have never lost my breath so suddenly and so fully.

I have never felt the weight of a full blown panic attack like I did when he actually packed his clothes and shut the door behind him.

In both of those experiences I constantly grieved for who he was NOT.

I ached for godliness to strike his soul; for purity to cleanse his heart; for a full and total connection to save us.

Today I experienced a completely new kind of leaving.

After 3 months of working out of town during the week and only being home on weekends, Joe FINALLY finished the job from hell.

He came home and a weight lifted off me, off of him, off of our kids and community.

We celebrated.

We broke bread with our close friends and I let my heart relax.

I let go of the burden of being a single mommy, of missing my husband, and of even resenting him for being gone so much.

The next morning Joe found out his next job was another out-of-town job.

Not only that, but he is also going to be gone for 2 1/2 weeks straight through.

My heart FELL.

And it's been just laying there on the ground since then.

I am constantly crying (have you ever tried to sweep the floor and cry at the same time? It doesn't work very well).

I am sad.

Sad.

Sad.

But yesterday was mother's day.

Joe secretly stayed up all night cleaning out the garage for me so I could finally park the car in there (and since we don't have working AC in the car, this was a GOOD thing!).

He also fixed an old rocking chair that I have been hoping to put in Judah's room.

He cleaned the house.

He organized a mother's day brunch with our families.

He didn't let me do ANYTHING.

He and the kids made me breakfast in bed.

He cleaned up after everyone had gone home.

And then he rubbed my back till I fell asleep.

And all of this did more than give me a good mother's day.

He kneaded away at my hurt and sadness with his tireless love.

He kept offering me rest when I was feeling frantic and hopeless.

My husband became Jesus to me for the first time in our marriage.

He set himself aside and held me before God with a relentless love.

So, when he left today I felt a new kind of leaving.

A leaving that left me aching, not because of who he is NOT, but because of who he IS.

This is the saddest, most full and overflowing kind of leaving.

This is a leaving that leaves me more in love; more cared for; more safe and protected than I have ever been in my life.

I'll probably just cry for 2 1/2 weeks.

But it will be worth it.

He has made it worth it.