4 Years Ago Today My X Moved Out

I knew the date was approaching, but I haven't had time lately to look at my calendar. Then, today, as I opened up my phone, the reminder popped up. I must have marked it on the calendar a few years back. While it's not something I choose to remember, or need to be reminded of, it is something that helps me realize just how far I've come.

Much has changed for me in matters of the heart.

It's still hard for me to believe. The life I once had has morphed into something so different. It's better in many ways. I'm happier. I love living alone. I am taking better care of myself: exercising and working out, my appearance is attended to. My work is more fulfilling. I date someone that is more fitting of my needs. I don't feel I'm scrutinized anymore. I can do as I please without having to consult with anyone.

The one thing that is still so very very hard to accept is not having my son full-time. I hate it more than you can ever imagine. I try to see the benefits, and I try not to lament. Not easy stuff. The benefits? Oliver needs time with his dad. I get a little time off. I'd happily trade that time off for more time with Oliver, but I wont put my hurts in front of his needs. He has a father who loves and cares for him, so he needs to feel that and know that love. His father serves as the male example, and Oliver needs that in his life. It's much better than a full-time mom-only type of care. If I have to chose between the two (and I don't really have a choice) I'd give up time with my son so that he can spend time with his father.

Sunday he came home to me as he always does. “I had a date with Amy,” he tells me. They went to a movie together and Oliver's father did not go. Now that's hard. Not that I am jealous, just that it doesn't seem fair to have a son taken away from his mother to spend time with another female adult, for no reason. I try to look at it from a practical point of view. How different is that from me hiring a sitter so that I can go do something I need to do? How different is it from Oliver playing with one of his friends? Or spending time with his Grandpa? It's similar. But there is a part of me that thinks it's unfair to have to give up time with my son so that he can spend time with another person who is not his friend or family.


I think Oliver is the part of the divorce that is tough to swallow. The fact I have to share him. The fact that his dad doesn't do what I think he should. The fact that he has a whole little life that his mother is not a part of.

Life is not always easy. No one said it would be. I look at my dog, Bella. She has no clue the work I am doing to provide a nice home for her. Neither does Oliver for that matter. How hard I am working to keep this house. The things I do to have the life we have. The work I do to maintain emotional stability for myself and our small family of two. The pain I experience. He knows none of that, nor should he. Then I think, is that what God does? Am I completely unaware of the work that is going on behind the scenes in order for me to have a wonderful life?

My reading today in God Calling said,
The difficulties of life are caused by disharmony in the individual.
There is a ton of disharmony in my life. The maze of red tape that I am running thru to save my home is endless. Dead ends everywhere. Every day it's a new story, usually not very good. I'm wondering what is going on, and no one can tell me a straight answer.
There is no discord in My Kingdom, only a something unconquered in My disciples. The rule of My Kingdom is perfect order, perfect harmony, perfect supply, perfect love, perfect honesty, perfect obedience -- all power, all conquest, all success,
I certainly have some things unconquered. Maybe it is acceptance that this home is not the place for me. Maybe it's that I need to accept that I may never have the things I really want. Maybe I just need to stop fighting for all that I want, and just be OK with living a simple life. Maybe I wont have the love Matt has found. Maybe I wont have that family. Maybe I wont have a home in Shorewood. Maybe I wont have what I want.

So often God has given me more than I could have imagined. And yet, I am seeing some really painful things come to fruition. Was I a fool to believe in some of the dreams I had? Was I a fool to think God has something in store for me that is wonderful and sweet? Pleasant? Easy?
But so often My servants lack power, conquest, success, supply, harmony, and think I fail in My promises because these are not manifested in their lives.
I'm coming to terms with the fact that I am most likely going to lose my home. It's becoming quite obvious. I'm coming to terms with the fact that Matt has both a really wonderful side and a very devious, malicious side to him. I'm coming to terms that he has pretty much written off any feelings he had ever had for me, buried or burned them, and has moved on. (I've moved on too, but I don't forget so easily. Nor do I bury or burn the past.) My X wont do me any favors anymore. He is a different man now.

I wasn't a great wife. I know that now. I wish I could go back and change those things I did or said. In many ways, I'm still paying the price for that. What Matt has done to me has been really tough to go thru.

Limbo. I'm all to familiar with that frickin' place. I've lived in limbo for two years waiting for my X to decide whether or not he wanted me back. Then in limbo for two more years while we worked on the divorce. It wasn't until he had an urgency, sparked by something unknown to me, that we were able to get on with the divorce. In the midst of that urgency, he did some pretty harmful things, altho he does not think so, not one bit. I've been in limbo regarding this home for more than a year. It's not looking good for me. Matt blames me for losing this home. I blame him.
These are but the outward manifestations that result from the obedience, honesty, order, love -- and they come, not in answer to urgent prayer, but naturally as light results from a lighted candle. (1)

It appears the limbo is about to end — again another loss. It's embarrassing to lose it. It's painful. Sad. I feel helpless. Defeated. I am losing it, not because I am not able to pay for it. Not because I have neglected my obligations to the bank. But because I let Matt take control, a long time ago, when we were married. Because I let him put the mortgage in his name. Because I trusted him. Then I trusted an attorney. Then another. Then another. Then the customer service agents at the bank. Then more people at the bank. and more. Until everyone, it seems, has given me a different story, a different reason, a new lot of information. Nothing makes sense regarding the home. Nothing. And even attorneys, the ones I've met along the way, were not my best advocate. 

In the end, no one could help. No one cared enough. No one was smart enough. There is no one who can fight for me, not the way I need. I don't have enough money. I have yet to find an attorney who could help... divorce, bankruptcy, home modification. No one knows.

So I'm about to lose this home. It's been a roller coaster. Four years ago my husband walked out. Four years later, I finally am told that it's 99% sure I'll have to lose the home. I'm screwed. My attorney shouldn't have taken my money in the first place because none of this was possible.

Four years ago, just about a week before Mother's Day, my world crumbled. On a Sunday, my husband came home and told me our marriage was over, that he no longer loved me, that he most likely never loved me. Tuesday he had an apartment. Thursday he was out. 

He never came back. 

I had no real warning. No discussion. Nothing I could do.

I lived in limbo for too long. I fought depression and suicide more times than I can remember. 

I survived that however. I hope I never have to face something that painful again. 

I'm not sure how it will feel once I am completely done with this home. Probably not great. How it will feel when I down grade to a less nice place to live. How it will feel when I walk into those beautiful homes of my son's friends. How it will feel to have to humble myself. Could you do it? I ask you who reads this. Could you lose your husband? And survive? And then your home? And share your children? Imagine it, but only for a moment. Then go hug your family and pray to your Heavenly Father that everyone keeps their good health and that you enjoy your time with them. Because it's all so precious.

(1) From 365 One-Minute Meditations: God Calling edited by A.J. Russell. ©2008 by John Hunt Publishing Ltd., New Alresford, Hants, UK. All rights reserved. No part may be reproduced without written permission from John Hunt Publishing Ltd, The Bothy, Deershot Lodge, Park Lane, Ropley, Hampshire, SO24 0BE, UK. Sent from the God Calling Devotional. For devotionals like this one for your iPhone, visit us at 43rdElement.com


  1. Very poignant, true and on the mark in capturing that wild cavalcade of emotions surrounding divorce and its subsequent upheavals. The part about "sharing" children hit home with me. It's something I still have trouble coming to grips with.

    Be a good mom, teach young Oliver what's right and wrong through your examples as a parent. Firm but fair, loving and teaching. Being the source of care, compassion, learning and guiding.

    While the analogy might be off the mark, I've likened the carnage of divorce to the stories of my mother who grew in post- WWII Europe. Lots of destruction, some preventable, most not; lots of things lost, life changed forever, but that constant assurance and knowledge that life will become immensely better, a little bit at a time. And the suffering from it, while hellish at times, does subside in dribs and drabs and can ultimately be redemptive.

    I appreciate your blog and thoughts; its helped me reflecting on my trials and tribulations.

    You continue to be in my prayers.

  2. I am very sorry to hear of the situation with your home. I pray for you often, and I will continue.

    I have not read the "God Calling" reading that you refer to, so perhaps it is unfair of me to comment, since I may not have the whole context. But I just want to say that sometimes, maybe even most of the time, the "difficulties of life" are not the result of disharmony in any one person. Most often the difficulties of life do not have an explicit cause. Life is difficult, that's a fact, and to try to lay the blame on someone, especially on oneself, is not productive.

    You are right on the mark in saying that life is precious. We often need to be reminded of this, so thank you for doing that for me today. - Carolyn

  3. Thank you -- both of you. I appreciate your comments, prayers, support. :) You both give me things to think about too.


  4. I wonder a little if the difficulty in losing your home is caught up in something deeper. Perhaps the fact that it's the only part of your pre-divorce life that is still standing, and you want to hang onto it for dear life.

    If you lose the house, you will make some place else home. And it's not really going to matter as much as it feels like. Home is where you and Oliver (and your puppy!) are. I really think you'll be surprised at how things fall into a new version of okay.

  5. I still think you should move in with the old man!

  6. What's this? I have to wait for my comment to be approved before it's published? Must be a result of that dorky comment from the moron in January, Ms Judgment!


Post a Comment

Your comments are helpful! Thanks!