Since my last post life has gotten a little less intense.
Consumption of a different type of alcohol has created a calm husband. No verbal abuse this week.
I had a conversation with my son because he was concerned about physical signs indicating end-stage alcoholism. Did I think that his dad would live much longer?
A friend died and I not only grieved with her family, I mentally took notes on what to have or not have at my husbands funeral, whenever that would be.
Two of my friends were diagnosed with stage 4 cancers. Both are under age 60, vibrant members of their churches and communities, full of love and life. So, naturally I had to complain to God. “Why do they have a death sentence and my husband, who is quite the opposite, has an opportunity to live?” I was reminded that all of our righteousness is as filthy rags to God and that we all deserve to die.
The song “O My Soul Arise” kept going through my brain. The part that kept sticking out was the verse that says, “Forgive him, o forgive they cry. Don’t let that ransomed sinner die.” Now, in the song, I know that it is talking about me being forgiven by the blood of Christ. But, I kept thinking that I should probably tell my husband that I forgive him. To be honest, I don’t want to go there yet. I want an apology first. (Yes, I know that is not Christ-like.) I really like to avoid internal conflict, so I shoved all those thoughts into a room in my brain and shut the door.
Colossians 3 says, ” So, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience;” Most days that is so not me. It doesn’t make much human sense that God still chooses to love me. I am so thankful that He does.