“ Do you
really think anything about this life can be “great”? I mean, what would it take to make what we go
through even o.k.?”
I stared
across the table at my beautiful friend responding to my cry for marriage and
family to be great again, and questioning if step-family and second marriages could
ever come close to the intimacy and closeness that families of first origin
seem to be born with.
Sadly, I
knew what she was saying. Each and every
day I wake, I see broken. As I pass by
the pictures in our hallway to head downstairs, I see a fragmented combination
of two families trying to pick up the shattered pieces to fuse together and
operate as closely as they can as one.
Problem
is, fusing doesn’t work. No matter how
much we want to operate as a whole family, we never will. That reality crushes my hope and leaves me
utterly sad. So, what to do?
We were
recently blessed with our first “ours” baby.
She brought so much joy to our hearts.
There were quite a few happy moments listening to our kids trying to
figure out whom she looked like and where she got what traits. She seems to bring all of us together into
one person. Bound by human blood.
I could
go on here and talk about how the blood of Christ binds us in a way no human
could, but that isn’t where I am feeling led today. See, I look into her face, and the
expectation of having that little family bubble like you do in families of
origin is impossible for her. She has
been brought into this brokenness too.
She will always know that her siblings have other parents and other
loyalties. Issues that we shouldn’t have
to deal with, we do. The other week one
of the kids in talking to her referred to one of us by our first name… no.. I
am her mommy and dad is her daddy, end of story- approaching that stinks. Holidays after my husband and I are gone will
be broken with the fact that she will have no other family to celebrate with.
Brokenness.
I
recently sat at a table surrounded by precious women seeking after God and
learning about His perfect love. As on
most first days, we went around the table introducing ourselves. Names, then years of marriage followed. I felt the lump in my throat grow larger as
my turn was coming. “What was I going to say? What would they think? “ I mulled
over my words. Ashamed, I could feel the
weight of the albatross like necklace growing heavier and heavier. Tears welled up and I tried my best to choke
them down.
My turn
came.
“I’m just
going to lay it all here out on the table right now. I’m Becky Nordquist. I used to attend here for 18 years until my
first husband abandon me with our four kids.
I am remarried and we have a new little baby, Grace. I’m here because I need to work through
loving well. I need to grow here because
I do not love our exes well, and I realize that as a child of God, I’m called
to forgive and love well. I hope to use
what God teaches me, to encourage and help others.”
I took a
deep breath, swallowed hard and left the room to go feed the baby.
Thank
goodness the nursing room is secluded. I
sobbed as I rocked back and forth nursing our sweet Grace baby. I wanted to leave, quit and never come back. Tears streaming down my face, inwardly I
screamed.
“God! I HATE this!
I hate having to wear the scarlet letter of divorce! I did not choose this! I hate what it’s done to our kids, what it’s
done to us! We didn’t want this! Other people chose it for us and we’re stuck
carrying the load! I hate that I have to
live in shame and embarrassment!” All I
heard was…
“I
know. I know about bearing things that
you didn’t choose.”
Gulp.
“We don’t
attend small groups anymore.” She said
with a saddened look on her face.
“Why?” I
questioned.
“Because
of the first meeting… you know, you have to give the litany of your life… the
how long have you been married always comes up.
Then you feel like people are looking down their noses at you. You never really get the chance to explain
that you were cheated on and had no say in the matter, and a lot of times that
wouldn’t matter anyway. We got tired of feeling judged and no one really
understands.”
My heart
broke. Others wanted to ditch community
too because of the hideously heavy necklace we are forced to wear. The only ones who really understand are the
ones who bear the same burden.
Then I
hear a whisper,
“Come to
me, all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest.”
My flesh
cries-“Rest?! How is there anyway possible to obtain rest here?! In this mess?! We have kids who want nothing more than to
see their parents together, no matter how miserable, busted relationships, a
full spectrum of emotions, people who want their say on how we live our
lives.. rest? Where?!
How?”
Then
Truth speaks…
Rest in
knowing that in the midst of broken lives, broken ideas, shattered hopes, and
fragmented dreams, HE is WHO He is. He
will be faithful to show me what I need to learn here. He will use me to love and help to heal
others. None of this goes wasted. Refinement is precious, it means we are loved
so much that God Himself chooses not to leave us the way we are, but to advance
us to maturity, in order that we be useable, and even more ready to meet Him
face to face.
Now more
than ever, we(Dave and I) are committed to seeking out a place for stepfamilies
to have community too. We need it more
than the average family and marriage.
The unique set of circumstances and the levels of brokenness are too
difficult to traverse on your own. We
need each other. We need each other
because iron sharpens iron my friends.
When we are called to love and pray for those who persecute us, our
enemies… most often they can be called steps & Exes- we need each other and the strength of an
Almighty Super Powerful God!
Phil. 4:13
I can do
ALL things through CHRIST who gives me strength!
