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My Biggest Fear, Now My Reality

I was the one who looked at other women with raised eyebrows as they walked into the church house by themselves or with their children. Why are they here alone, I wondered. Where are their husbands? Weren't the men suppose to be leading their families as they followed Christ? I couldn't help but notice the absent men because I desperately wanted a husband who worshiped with me. I mean, I wasn't desperate for a man but I knew when the time came to get married that would be a high priority on my list. I longed to worship with my husband. I even made sure to dot all of my I's and cross my T's to make sure it would happen. From the very beginning, I nurtured and fostered my relationship with the Lord. It was never just a Sunday "thing" for me. I loved learning about God. I loved experiencing him. I loved being in a relationship with the Lord. So I believed through my prayers and "way of being," I created space for God to move and draw the man of my dreams. I prayed diligently and I expected God to honor my request. I was full of faith. I would speak "as if" it had already happened. I would close my eyes and envision it being true. I kept a picture of my ex in my bible and every Sunday I would pull it out and place on the pew bedside me. I was leaving no stone unturned when it came to my faith. Then it happened, one Sunday, he walked down the isle when the invitation for salvation was extended. He gave his life to the Lord! Words cannot express how I felt. From that moment on, the fear and heaviness I carried about absent men in the church, lifted. My man would be there with me; worshipping, praising, and serving the body of Christ. 

 Looking back there was writing on the wall. My ex was hit or miss when it came to church. I could tell the break up really bothered him. Although he never would admit it, I could still see his hesitancy and resistance when it came to being vulnerable to God. He was bruised and that bruise defined much of who we had become in marriage. I ignored the signs because I knew I would never marry someone who didn't serve the Lord with me. I feared that all along. I never wanted that for my family. So I pretended and told myself things would be different when we married. He would eventually see how much I loved him and get over the break up. One year passed, then five, his attendance was spotty. He attended church more in the first five years of marriage then he had in the entire twenty years we were married. It was a nightmare come true. It weighed on me like an anchor pulling my soul to the depths of the sea. I was lonely. I was hurt. I was angry with God for not changing him. I was angry with my ex for embarrassing my family. Yes, I was embarrassed. I looked outward and God was silent. What do you do when you're looking for answers and God is silent? The ex was doing what any hurt individual would do. He was protecting his heart and dare I say, trying to teach me a lesson. "you left me for God so I'll leave you with God." God wasn't speaking because he had already spoken but I refused to listen. Why should He say more? I was left with the consequence of my actions. I was married to a husband (I would later find out) I couldn't reach. We deeply loved each other and both of us did the best we could to make it work but fell short over and over again. So what did I do? I held tight to my faith. I did what most women of faith would do. I went to church. Me and my children, we went to church. I felt helpless, alone and uncovered by my husband. We worshiped alone with the other sisters in church. I prayed. I believed. I stood on the Word of God. You know that hope that you have when you're doing everything right except what God told you to do? That was me. I made a video a while back and I believe it will help,

I was a ball of fear running fast from men who didn't want a relationship with God until one day I caught up with myself, attracting the most dominant thought in my mind.


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