Are you aware that my body isn’t like hers?

I’m way more jiggly, my gut is way more disgusting and marked and big, my boobs are smaller.  I’m not as beautiful as her you know?  My body isn’t going to be as nice as hers.

This is hard to deal with.

Will I always compare myself to her? Will you compare me to her?

This feeling of insignificance, nothing-ness, worthlessness sucks.

I Don’t Know.

I don’t know what’s going on.  I don’t know what’s going to happen.

You seem to be trying to make effort.  At this moment.  I don’t want to put too much effort back in fear of more pain.

I suppose I’m also testing the grounds to see if you really will pursue me.  If you really do love me you won’t give up because of my fears, because of my hurts.  You will be patient.

You do realize it’s going to take a lot of patience on both of our behalves.  But especially you.  You haven’t been known to be the most patient guy.  Are you really going to keep pursuing even when it gets hard?  Are you going to stick around even when we have to talk about the hard stuff, the embarrassing shameful stuff?  The problems we had before?  The problems you caused?  The problems we now must face?  Trust, finances, children, futures, dreams, responsibilities?  Are you going to stick through it all?

You do also realize there are probably going to be major intimacy issues.  Not only are you struggling with porno, but now I am struggling with intimacy issues.  The thought of sex still nauseates me, makes me angry, gives me the goose bumps and makes my heart pump faster than it should in fear and disgust.  My self-image wasn’t wonderful to begin with and now it’s completely shattered.  My confidence in who I am and in my body isn’t there.  We are going to have intimacy issues.  It’s going to be a huge uphill battle.  I’m certain when it’s defeated it will be wonderful, but are you truly up for the battle?

Maybe a way God will turn the evil into good in our situation is to help us start fresh and start better than we did nearly 7 years ago.  Can it be better than before?  Can you be the man God has called you to be?  Can I be treated like a queen?  Respected and loved regardless of my flaws, even with my flaws be loved the same?  Can I be pursued with everything in you?

I don’t know.  I just don’t know.  I don’t know if it’s going to work.  I don’t know if you setting me up, going to give up on me or if you are going to continue to let your heart be changed and to continue to let God love on you.  I don’t know and it’s so heart breaking not knowing.

Either way if you continue to screw up or if you bale out I forgive you.  If you do those things, there is no hope for you and I, but I forgive you.  I forgive you.  I’ve forgiven you for everything you did do and are still doing if you are.  I forgive you for everything you are going to do (no person’s future is perfect).

But right now, in the present I just don’t know.  I don’t know if I should be fearful or hopeful.  I would love to be hopeful, but that’s hard when you still aren’t living in the same area.

Either way I will love you with the love God gives me and forgive you with that love and let God be God and you be you.  We will see what happens.

I want to cry so bad, but haven’t had tears come out in weeks, I wonder when the explosion of tears will come.


Who knew that humans had such a wide variety of emotions.

Who knew we could contain in every crevice of our bodies and minds such an immense amount of feelings.

Anger, hate, frustration, discontent, smite, sadness, sorrow, and on and on.

You called and said I know it’s not fair, but i love you.  I couldn’t say it back today.  It’s hard.  I’m so confused.  Have you said goodbye to her?  How do I know you aren’t sitting there with her right beside you telling her the same thing?  I don’t.

I don’t know if you are lying.  I don’t know if you are still just saying words to say words and cover your butt.  I don’t know if you are really alone at 6pm or not.  I don’t know if things are going to fall through.  It makes my stomach feel sick just thinking about it.  I don’t know.  I really want it to work but I don’t want someone who isn’t the man of God they are supposed to be every single day.

I’m indifferent.  I’ve hoped so much, fought so much, stayed in it so much that I have nothing left to fight with.  If you want it…it’s all you.  Your battle.  I’ll try to hang on and hope it works out.  If you change your mind and decide that we aren’t worth the battle, that’s fine.  I had the divorce people’s phone number sitting on the seat beside me a few days ago.  It’s a reality I’ve had to become ok with and I’m ok with that too.  It sucks, but as my friend says, I’m worth the best.  Bring on the best there husband.  Bring on the best.


I was in the beloved shower again.  Sometimes I consider skipping the shower part of my day, but then the overwhelming need to be free of the boogers, spit up, peanut butter and sour milk beats out the need to avoid the stupid thoughts that always come.

So I had a shower.  Aren’t you glad?

Thoughts of him and her came like they often do.  How could he just have said, “might as well” that first time?  Seriously?  As if it would have no effect?  As if it’s my fault? As if our marriage didn’t matter?  As if not only that piece of paper that we signed didn’t say anything.  That our covenant that we came into didn’t matter.  My word is my promise.  If I say it I try with all my heart to do it.  Divorce was never really an option.  But now it’s a very real reality.

We made a covenant.  A promise to be true to each other, to be faithful, for better or worse, rich or poor, no matter what our feelings said, to love unconditionally…me…only me…you so easily threw that out the window…you so easily betrayed everything you said, everything you promised…not only did you smash all your dreams, but mine too…sometimes I wish that I wasn’t so blinded and saw your selfishness way long ago.  Our marriage, our covenant meant nothing.  If someone broke a covenant elsewhere they would be dead, or forsaken or something intense.

Your words and your actions showed that I mean nothing to you.  Nothing.  I still mean nothing to you according to your actions. “I’ll do what I need to do, be cool.”  What does that mean?  What is it you need to do and if I mean anything to you, if your kids mean anything to you then why don’t you do what you need to do right away?  We aren’t worth much to you if you still can’t sacrifice for us.  If you can’t do the hard deed right away no matter how much it hurts.  I get it.  I get that you have invested some of yourself into her.  That you like her more than me.  That you had sex with her and gave yourself to her.  I get it that you like her.  That you went shopping, out to eat, bought stuff, watched movies, went on trips, camping…everything you and I did.  You replaced me with someone that you didn’t fight with, someone that didn’t challenge you to be better, a relationship that was easier (for now).   But if you are going to do the right thing then you are going to have to sacrifice and sacrifice and sacrifice and sacrifice if you are going to make anything slightly right.  That needs to start now.

I’m at the point of no return, almost past it.  I’m not sure that this is fixable and it cannot wait.  If you are going to give it a shot you need to start proving it, showing it, doing everything you can to fix it…NOW.  Put me on your bank account or close it and go back to our joint one.  Let me see everything you are buying…no more dates.  Call every day…twice a day. Talk about real things, things that hurt, things that suck, flirt.   Answer my calls the moment I call…even in the evenings…make my hours 24/7 instead of days.  Call your children every single day.  Don’t give them the hope that you are coming but start to build a relationship with them.  Skype.  Send money regularly.  Prove to me that our relationship, the relationship with your children is worth everything to you.

Dump her in the trash and don’t make a move, don’t say anything when I bash her.  When I call her inappropriate names.  When I hate on her.  Don’t defend her.  Don’t look sad for her or your heart.  I really dislike you and I hate her.

Back to the shower…sex.  All desire that I ever had is gone.  You have wiped every desire, every need of it away.  I used to crave it.  I used to beg you to have it with me.  Your cheating on me and addiction to porn had cause me to be unfulfilled because you were having your needs met in other ways.  It makes me feel loved, it’s just something I need, something I want.  I’m kinda like a man in that department.  Or was.

It’s gone.  I want to be held, but at the same time I don’t even want to be touched.  I’ve noticed I cringe when a guy touches me, tries to hug me at church.  I can’t even look in their eyes.  My nights are not spent thinking of you.  My showers aren’t spent remembering good things.  I want to be held, but the thought of being touched at all, in any way, makes me feel dizzy and sick.

It’s a heart issue.  Only God can fix it.  Not everyone is going to hurt me.  I can be healed.  He can heal me.  If my husband wants me back how is it going to happen?  If every effort to prove to me that he is trustworthy, patient, that he loves me, that he would do anything for me, that he loves me like Christ loves the church…I think our relationship is screwed.   We aren’t going to make it.  If I can’t allow myself to be healed, allow myself to trust again.  If I can’t learn from my mistakes.  If I can’t be patient.  We’re screwed.

There is so much riding on this.  So much still to be lost.  So much that could be gained.  You screwed another woman, abandoned me, stopped talking to me, pushed me away,  yet don’t want to divorce me. Talk about confusing.  No wonder why I just want to cry all day.  I wish it was three years from now and could skip this part.


Peace.   I need peace so bad right now.  This song brings me peace.  I feel like I’m drowning.  Absolutely drowning.  My body, my face everything is underwater.  My chest is squeezed tight, my lungs are burning, my heart is pounding in great fear, my eyes see nothing but the dark abyss, my ears hear nothing but muffled sounds…i’m drowning and I don’t know how to swim.

I have so much anger.  So much hate.  So much fear. I feel like it’s killing me.

My gut, my instincts are going crazy.

They say I’m an idiot.  I’m an idiot for waiting for you, for believing in you, for being patient.  They say I’m an idiot.

Today it was hard to see any hope.  Any light.

I need more Jesus.  He’s truly the only one that can save me.  He’s the only one that can heal.  The only one that can do anything in our lives.

I want to believe.

I can just see you worshiping.  One of the most beautiful things I’ve seen.  Your eyes closed, your hands stretched wide, your voice sweet,  all of you in abandon to God.  It is seriously one of the most beautiful things I’ve seen.   One of the reasons I fell in love with you.   The hope to hear you sing again, to see you worship again, to worship with you again may be the only thing that keeps me going at this moment.

I thank God for this picture.  A few moments ago I wasn’t sure if I could wait for you.  I wasn’t sure if I could stay for the slight chance that things might work, but the hope of seeing you worship our God again has given me a little more peace, a smidge of hope.

Maybe we’ll be able to dance in the car again.  Maybe we’ll be able to dance in the kitchen again.  Maybe I’ll see you dance with your little princesses and prince again.  Maybe I’ll see you dance with your youngest whom you’ve never seen.  Maybe you and I will be able to have a slow dance one day, I don’t care where, just you and me.  Maybe we’ll be able to dance at a wedding reception that we never had nearly 7 years ago.  Maybe.  This hope makes me drown even more, but in tears.  Good tears.  Those don’t happen too much.

Maybe things will be different.  Maybe you will step up.  Maybe you will be the man God called you to be.  Be the man I know you can be.  Maybe you will leave her.  Maybe you will chose me.  Maybe we will be able to work out our differences.  Maybe I will be your queen and you will be my king.  Maybe things will be good.  Maybe.  Maybe.  Just maybe.

God can do anything.  He is a big God.

“Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders”

Prove to me I can trust you again.  I don’t want to hear my daughter say she misses you anymore.  I don’t want to hear her say she doesn’t want to talk to you.  I don’t want to have to answer why you don’t want to be my husband anymore.  I don’t want to have to explain choices anymore, your choices.  I don’t want to have explain how some people don’t know how much Jesus loves them, how some people don’t always do the right thing.  I don’t want to have to do this anymore.   I don’t want to have to keep the tears back as we discuss these things.  “I really miss daddy.  Why doesn’t he want to be your husband anymore?”  So much heartbreak.  Lord heal us.  Heal my children’s wounds.  My husbands wounds and my wounds.  Bring your healing and peace to us all.  

Immense Fear

I just want to weep.  I just want to cry till there are no more tears.  Wash the stress away.  Relieve the pressure in my chest.  I just want to kick and scream.  To hit something.  To pull my hair out.  To hide.

My hope is soaring.

Yet my faith is little, almost non-existant.

And most of all am I ready for it if he does come back? Am I really ready for this?  Would I survive the influx of emotions and memories that I would feel?  Would I be able to contain my anger when it hit?  Would I be able to restrain the leaps in my heart of love?  Would I be able to contain the overwhelming sadness that would come?

Would I let the little things slide and get back into the hole that we started from?  Would I let him stay, would I remain if the lies still existed, if God wasn’t number one, if I wasn’t pursued, if I wasn’t treated like a queen, if the children weren’t put above himself.  Would I stay or would I have the guts to go.  It scares the poop out of me cause I know that the odds are not in my favor.  I would probably cave.  This is a bad bad cycle to be in.  A bad place to be in.  I pray so desperately that I am protected and brave and strong and that he choses the right thing for not only himself but for the kids and I.

I hope so bad that I don’t get hurt again, that they don’t get hurt again.

That I don’t get a phone call tomorrow saying, “I can’t do it”, “I lied”, “I chose her forever”.  That he doesn’t get here and is the same person.  I can’t do that.  Just thinking about it makes we want to barf.  Just thinking about it makes me want to smash my head against a wall.  I can’t do that again.  I can’t.

It would be so much easier to quit.  To get a divorce.  To be free.  It would still be a battle.  A journey.  But it would be a different one.  An easier one.  Much easier.  But easier isn’t always better.  Easier often isn’t better.  To get the best you often have to work the hardest.

I could say I cleaned and just tidy the house or I could say I cleaned and sweep, mop, wipe the walls, dust every nook and cranny.  The second is better, but harder to get.

God says to forgive infinitely.  God says love is patient.  God says love doesn’t give up.  God says in the end there is faith hope and love.  The greatest is love.  But it’s scarier than seeing my child walk around with their potty full of crap.  It’s scary.  It’s a huge chance.  A huge risk I am taking for myself and for my family.  If it works out it will be the best choice I could have made. If it fails it will be the worst mistake of my life.

Dear Lord help me.  Please don’t let my husband fail me again.  Atleast the kids aren’t at risk as long as he is not here for now. If he shows up, their hearts are at risk all over again.  They know nothing about him thinking about coming back.  They don’t know mommy and daddy have a chance at staying married.  They don’t know he asked for his resume to be emailed to him.  They don’t know there is hope.  They are safe where they are.  Processing the fact that he isn’t here and isn’t coming.  I can’t risk breaking their heart all over again.   They are safe for now.

Please keep our hearts safe Lord.  You love us more than anyone else.  

Hopeless Hope

What am I supposed to do?

My hope soars.  I’m happy.  Yet I know it will more than likely bring me pain.

I’m still on wife number one’s hours.

I need to stop conversing with you.  I really need to.

As I said in the last blog I’m an idiot.  I want to believe the best in you, but it’s hard.  I’ve been hurt so many times and I’m still on your hours.  It makes me so angry.

It would bring me so much joy if you got to meet your daughter.  If your son knew who you were.

It would bring me so much pain if you came back the way you are now.

You said by the middle of the week you get an incredible sense of sadness.  One were you just want to crawl in a ball and cry.

I know that feeling.  I feel it every single day.

You sounded so adamant when you talked to me.  You cried when you talked about a certain obstacle keeping you from coming.  Yet I still see very little change.

You are trying to help with the search of a vehicle.  You are asking how much I need.  Yet the conversation still stops half way through.  So stupid.  You have some concern about providing, but I’m still treated like crap.

Now is when I want to curl in a ball and cry.  I just wish it were all over.  I wish we were either done or things were more on the positive side.  I hate this.

Why do I have hope when it feels so hopeless.

Can you please come and get your newborn to sleep?  Can you give me all your attention?  Will I ever feel beautiful again?  It’s a heart issue.  Lots of things are heart issues.  I don’t feel beautiful.  I don’t feel of worth.  I don’t feel special.  I don’t feel pretty.  So I treat myself like that.  As I eat endless amounts of cookies to deal with all these emotions.

So many heart issues.

Dear Lord heal our hearts.  Make our hearts whole.  Bring love into our hearts.  Wether our relationship makes it or not, heal us.  I forgive him for not putting me first.  I forgive him.  Help me to forgive him.  Teach my heart to forgive.  In Jesus name amen.  

I Want a Husband

I called and tried to ask you what you and I were.  What do you want?   and are you still with her?  If you are still with her, we cannot be anything anymore.  I cannot keep speaking to you.  Playing with my heart.  I need to know.

I played your favorite board game with your daughter today.  Monopoly…junior of course.  It should have been you showing her the ways of your favorite game.

I had to have a discussion with your five year old about our bodies and kisses and modesty and how are bodies are special.  You should have been there for that and you should be here to fill the need of intimacy with her father, a man.

I want a husband to be here for those things.  I want a husband to watch tv with at night.  I want a husband to lie in bed with at night.  To help put the groceries away.  To play with our children.  To have family time with.  To eat dinner with.  To go on dates with.  To drive around with.  To go to church with.  To help put the kids to bed.  I want a husband to share my life with.  I want a husband.

I wish you wanted to be mine.


I figured it out.  Showers are a trigger.  I threw out my body wash thinking that was the trigger.  The stuff you chose and bought me.  That wasn’t it.

I go into the shower to get clean.  To wash the spit-up, rotten milk, peanut butter and boogers off of me.  I end up feeling grosser.

I usually end up with getting so angry in there that I end it quickly and jump out.

There are a lot of intimate memories associated with the shower.  A lot of intimate memories that have been compromised.  I am no longer the only one that has exposed themselves, letting you see every intimate detail of me, in these past 6 years.  That is no longer something special between you and me.  That intimacy has been contaminated.  Those precious memories have been destroyed.

This must be the reason I almost always end up feeling angry in the shower.  It’s a shame it’s something I have to experience every day.  I feel exposed.  Un-treasured.  Contaminated…ashamed of myself.  I can’t think of those intimate moments anymore without feeling this.  This sadness which turns to anger that you ruined it.  You ruined it for me.  I should feel beautiful as I step into the shower in all my glory.  But I don’t. I feel ugly.  I feel sad.  I feel dirty.  I want to cover myself.  The one who was supposed to love me for all I am, for every nook and cranny, curve, mole, and even the rolls, betrayed me.  I no longer feel beautiful or worthy of any attention.

That darn shower.