It was not only my marriage that Satan sought to destroy through my husbands adultery, but me. Who I was, am, would be. There were days that Satan had me convinced that I deserved to have a husband who cheated. There were days that Satan had me convinced that I wasn't lovely or lovable. It is so much easier to believe the lies of Satan than Truth. I don't know why that is, but I do know that is the very reason we need to consistently be in the Word. That is why we need to be praying and communicating with God, with Truth Himself. That is why we need fellowship and people willing to speak hard truths into our lives. Because Satan is a destroyer and he will attack us in our most weak places.
The weight of forgiveness is heavy. More so for the person withholding it than for the person who it needs to be offered to. And forgiveness is a process, and a process of the heart that happens again and again and again. Forgiveness is not a magical fix all. I had hoped for a laid out timeline for forgiveness, but learned that it's individual and there is no "plan" to follow. It just happens, by the grace of God, it can happen.
September 1, 2011 from my journal:
The weight of forgiveness is heavy. More so for the person withholding it than for the person who it needs to be offered to. And forgiveness is a process, and a process of the heart that happens again and again and again. Forgiveness is not a magical fix all. I had hoped for a laid out timeline for forgiveness, but learned that it's individual and there is no "plan" to follow. It just happens, by the grace of God, it can happen.
September 1, 2011 from my journal:
Dear Jesus, it’s a new month. A new morning. I’m still holding onto Isaiah 42:9: Behold,
the former things have come to pass, and new things no I declare.
It’s a new day. You are shaping a new husband for me. A new marriage. A new me.
Thank You that Your mercies never come to an end. I still feel heavy this morning, with the
weight of my reality, with the work of the things I have set before me. But you make me feel strong enough to handle
it.
Today the tape that Satan is playing in
my ear is one of my own insecurities. My
every physical flaw has never stuck out so clearly to me. So painfully.
“She’s skinny as a rail.” Is what he told me about her. I am not.
Not even close. Never has the
stretch marks, the cellulite and the looseness of my skin after having babies ever been
so painfully and glaringly obvious to me.
I’m battling the thoughts that one day, when we are intimate again, they
will be glaringly obvious to him too.
And unappealing. I do not look
like the girls in porn. My boobs are
saggy and have stretch marks. My butt is
flat. My arms are flabby. My calves are too big. My stomach too
loose. I’m not physically lovely. This is my battle today. This my wound.
