God Doesn’t Make Empty Promises

It was the last straw. I wanted out of my life. I was tired of feeling like I was barely noticed by my husband for so many years. All he did was work, work, work … while I folded the neverending laundry. What a bore my life had turned out to be. How unsatisfied I was inside, and how poor my attitude had become.

I was always a stay-at-home mother and cared for my family over the years to the best of my ability, but it seemed that my needs were always on the back burner. Day in and day out, one day turned into the next, without any change in sight.

At the time, I was without God in my life because I had abandoned my faith at an early age. I was living my life amongst the world and became desperate for some kind of excitement to fulfill me inside.

I had too much time on my hands with two older children that I thought were in less need of my constant attention, and a husband that was busy with work. I felt no connection, that my marriage was a failure, and my purpose of motherhood was slowly slipping away. I began to fear the future. My unending thoughts about where my life was headed were running wild. I was filled with complete panic and anxiety all of the time.

I had no passion left and felt dead when I thought of who I had become, and I wondered why I felt so unloved and miserable all the time. I was so empty and insignificant in my mind. I was so unsatisfied with who I had become.

All that I heard myself doing was complain about my husband. Complain … complain … complain to anyone who would listen for hours upon hours about that sad story of my life. I painted my one-sided stories about how awful my husband was and how much I wanted a divorce from this miserable life … like it was all his fault! Meanwhile, the resentment and bitterness was oozing out of me and poisoning everyone else’s lives.

The worst part was that I even cried on my children’s shoulders. I made their father out to be some kind of evil villain, and other times, I made him the central theme of every joke. My condescending remarks were aimed to hurt him deep into the core, and to make him pay for all of the disappointments in my life. I wanted everyone to take my side and sympathize with me about the losses in my life. Boo hoo-hoo.

Even though deep down inside, I knew it was wrong, I couldn’t help myself. My negative thoughts of him completely overruled! By this time, I had lost complete control of myself. These miserable thoughts bombarded me and became my focus … our lives were turned upside down by my careless words.

I fooled myself for awhile, and that everything would be alright … but then things only continued to snowball and get worse overtime. To my own demise, I had singlehandedly tore down our house with my nasty attitude and bitter words. I was so discontented as I had lost my identity, and didn’t recognize who I was.

I had no sense of self-worth left, and any kind of respect for myself, or my husband, was a foreign language that I had not yet learned. I sabotaged myself, and our marriage with my own bitter poisons … one destructive word at a time. At one point, things had actually gotten so bad, that I didn’t think it could get any worse. But they did alright, and this reality hit me straight in the face on the day that my daughter had run away from home.

It is hard to express the emotional turmoil that I faced that day. It was like her runaway painted an ugly picture of just how out of control I really was as a wife and a mother. As I stood in the deafening silence of her room, I realized just how far apart we had become, and how badly the chaos was for her to do something so drastic as to disappear from our lives. It was almost as if I saw the crying out for help in my child’s eyes, but it was too late … because she was long gone and nowhere to be found.

I spent hours paralyzed with the fear of what I had done to cause such devastation in our lives. I knew right then and there that I had to change to save our marriage, and to have my daughter back again. I had to face the facts that as a wife and a mother, I didn’t handle things right … and it only made matters worse.

As my body felt the heavy weight of my broken life, my spirit collapsed, and I humbled myself before the Lord. Finally, my stubborn ways of doing things were given over to God. I knew I made such a mess of our lives that I needed a sheer miracle to put all the pieces in our lives back together again.

I was literally hanging on by a single thread, dangling over the heaping ruins of our lives, and I heard God whisper that I was going to come out of this mess more alive than ever before. For the first time in my life, I was comforted in the palm of God’s hand and was certain of the promise. We were going to get a chance to be a family that gave all of the glory to God, and would give others the same kind of hope.

I was on a mission with God for the restoration in our lives. As we worshipped God, our hearts healed, and so did our family. Suddenly, I envisioned myself helping women just like myself to have personal fulfillment in their marriages. I also knew that just as God had given us another chance to be the family we always dreamed of, that He would do the same for others … because God doesn’t make empty promises.

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