Cracked Roots & Roses 26: The Drawing Board. 

Sigh. There I was—divorced from my husband and separated from God. Before I knew the Lord, I didn’t feel a void in my heart. I had always been without Him, so I didn’t know any different. I understand why people who don’t know Him don’t miss Him. How does one miss what they’ve never experienced?

This time, though, I did have a void, and it was great. See, I had gotten to know Him a little after the dream. I was seeking an authentic relationship with Him. I was reading about Him. I had joy, I had peace, and I had an unconditional love that I had never experienced before. But now, I was outside of the will of God. My life was in shambles, and it was my own doing.

There was a level of contentment, but just beneath the surface lay immense sadness. I hadn’t considered holidays, summers, or my daughter in my selfishness. I wanted what I wanted, and the chips had to fall where they may.

Because of how I was raised, I had never considered my future or any form of higher education. Neither of my parents went to college, and I can’t even say for sure that they both graduated from high school. Even in high school, only a handful of students talked about college, and they were considered outliers. I was raised to believe that you grow up, get a job, find a man, and drink beer in your spare time.

I didn’t know anything about being equally yoked, about gifting, or about purpose. It’s a good thing I wasn’t like the people I grew up around—I always wanted something more. And because of that drive, I had to seek God.

Sure, I had gotten married and held a little minimum-wage job, but the truth is, none of it was right, and I knew it. My marriage, like my job, was born out of necessity and commonality.

In the meantime, I made friends at the dealership and the title company. I would go out with these girls on the weekends and spend hours on the phone talking about nothing. None of those friendships exist today because, like the relationships themselves, they were founded on nothing and born of nothing but commonality.

I was passing through life with no particular destination. I wanted what I had with Jesus back. I would think about the days when it was just me and Him and smile, because I had been so happy then. I had never felt joy like that until I met Christ.

My actions had caused me shame and embarrassment. I wanted to leave Him alone, but I just couldn’t. He called to me every waking hour of every day. I would hear example after example of His forgiveness, and I decided to see if I qualified for it. So I ran back to God with a tear-soaked face and a contrite heart.

When I went back, I didn’t dive right in like I’d done before. This time, wisdom slowed me down. I would never again look down on anyone for anything, because I had become the very thing I once frowned upon.

Oh, I used to smile and listen to people’s prayer requests, but my thinly veiled smile hid notes of contempt and disgust. Now, I listen with compassion because I know what it’s like to fall headlong into sin. I know what it’s like to want to dip your toe in, only to fall in completely and struggle for your very life.

I had to be fired to escape the sin that consumed me. Joseph ran out of his coat, and I ran out of my job. I ran because I was too weak to stand and fight.

It took me nearly 25 years to even talk about what happened because I was still clinging to my “reputation.” But those of you who know Jesus know that He was of no reputation. He had nothing to protect and nothing to hide. My endeavor is to be more like Him.

I never slid back with Ahmad. After a while, he realized he was spinning his wheels and went in another direction. I haven’t seen him since our time at the title company. He friended me on Facebook back when it was new and shiny, but he soon unfriended me when he saw I wasn’t the same person.

It was at the title company that I was given another dream, and that dream changed my trajectory. Unfortunately, there was always a man somewhere in the background.