Archived Blog
A great deal of pain was housed in these words years ago. I wanted to move forward and forget these words ever existed, but recently a good friend reminded me that my story is still important. That not allowing Him to use it for His Glory would be selfish. So, here is one lengthy page of all my former blog posts spanning 2020-2021.
It All Came Crashing
It All Came Crashing
There are times in our lives when we feel the tiny rumblings.. a dusting falls here, a pebble there, and sometimes, the audible thumping of a larger rock rolling down the mountainside. These things are constant erosion of our reality.. the changes Father constantly makes to our lives, the pain He allows and the Goodness He brings, the harm He removes without our knowledge. Over time, our structure changes and we slowly become something different. Most of the time, this is the way it goes.. a slow change that we have time to progressively become used to.
But what happens when there is a landslide? What happens when the dusting, the rumbling, the small and larger rocks all crash down the mountainside together and all we are left with is destruction of something that used to be? …Well, we look up. We breathe deep and notice that the sky did not move.. it still seems that same distance from us. Father’s reminder that looking up is what we are meant to do as the landscape around us changes.
My landscape has changed tremendously. The rumblings began in 2018 and slowly the dust turned into the boulders.. and the whole mountainside was gone. My husband cheated.. not once, not twice, but many, many times… with many women over the course of ALL 19 years of our relationship. I was devastated, betrayed, and confused as to how anyone could treat another human being in such a way. To take a tender heart that was faithful for 19 years, trusting, and loving, and to think that everything that he was doing was fine as long as it was hidden. To pile lies on top of lies until he didn’t even recognize reality anymore. He could not distinguish the lies he told himself from the reality he was living. But Father doesn’t like His children being treated that way and promises that what is done in secret will eventually come to light.. and while I could use this blog to name names, guess what?! Father already knows them and will deal with them as He chooses. Friends and fellow church members, women I enjoyed spending my time with, who also thought that their sins could be hidden, married women, sinning against their own husbands and breaking a covenant with God. Women who, to this day, don’t even know that I know what they did.
Now while I could turn this blog into Megan’s Pity Party, that is not the point. Nor is it the point to shake my finger in blame, because no one is blameless or without sin. The point is that my landscape changed forever. Irreversibly. That mountain will NEVER look the same again. While it will not look the same, there will be another mountain. Right now, as I type, it rises underneath my feet. Father forms it in every hard thing I have endured over the past two years. In every friend who has come alongside me, prayed for me, loved me and my children. He is building it in the heart of a man who will TRULY love and value me and my boys, and will provide a Godly example of how a man should love and treat a woman within God’s covenant of marriage. I am not jaded. I am so hyper-aware that all men do not do what was done to me. Some men long for a faithful woman and to be a faithful husband, to live out the example of Christ in the lives of my boys. How do I know this? Because for 21 years of my life, I lived with one… a Daddy who thought my Mama hung the moon and who wanted nothing more than to point us to Jesus.
So, until I am standing back on that mountaintop, I am looking up. Waiting for the Father to instruct. Watching the beauty He created in the heavens and feeling the breeze blow the dust back at my feet.. the slow rise of the new mountain.
Begin at the Beginning
Father has lived in my heart since I was so young. I barely remember a time that He wasn’t the True North that pointed and guided my heart and my actions. He held me through the growing pains of teenage years and had to drag me a little through the college ones. He has loved me and has known me intimately down to the number of hairs on my head since before time began. He knows my every thought. Sometimes that is a comfort and sometimes, its scares me, honestly.
Over the past years, I have allowed my mind to travel to places that I am ashamed of. These places were those that made me feel unloved and unsafe. I told myself I did not deserve better than the screamed profanity that plagued my ears for a lengthy period of time. Silly things like not making sure that the boys drained their bath water brought on battles that left deep scars etched in an already grieving mind. I convinced myself that thinking I was worth nothing was normal, that, at least, he was home for that day to do the yelling.. that I was a terrible wife for not ensuring that something so small was handled before the grenade was thrown. Yet, when he finally reappeared at home a week later, the grenade would only come from a different direction, the blast always the same.. the words that cut me the deepest, and he knew it, and chose them for just that reason.
My mind spiraled deeper and deeper into the realization that this was my life.. I chose it, I made vows, I was going to have to stick it out. But, God. One day, after being stuck with him in a car all day as he drank beer after beer while driving our kids around, I looked at their faces in the backseat.. watched their expressions as I begged him to stop. That was it. All it took. My mind no longer felt helpless. It no longer felt stuck. God shook it awake and said, “Remember Who you belong to.” In that moment, it was no longer about me, but the three faces that I saw. Three boys that I desperately wanted to seek Christ with everything in them, to be good faithful husbands, and sons who honored their mother. How could they do that when this was the example I was allowing to be lived out right before them?
It has taken a long time for Father to restore my heart and mind. He has allowed me to love myself again and be a good mother to three amazing boys. He has removed doubt and fear about whether I could live life as a single parent. We travel. We play games. We have movie nights. We have spring break camping plans. We love. Most importantly, He has given me the beautiful opportunity to apologize to my children for something that I should have been in control over a very long time ago. I begged Him to allow me a second chance to show them His Love in a very real way, to point them to Him. They have so many guideposts in their lives, and I am eternally grateful to everyone who put the flame to their candle to point the way for us. Those who loved us through.
Father knew that all of this would happen before I was even born to this earth. His Plan is perfect and so is His timing. He is making beauty from ashes and helping me to realize MY WORTH. He is a King, I am a princess.. even His Word says, “her worth is far above rubies.” So I will just consider this season a time for shining as a friend, mother, but most importantly, as His child. Made in His Image. I know He is listening to my mind right now as I type these words, and He is smiling. Took me a long time to get here.. Glad He never gives up on His children!
Connect 4
Last night I played Connect 4 with my 10 year old. I won over and over and I could see frustration mounting in his face. It was no longer was fun, but the part of him that wanted to win just once drove him onward. I am his mother, he knows that he has nothing to prove to me, and yet, here we were.. round 11, round 12. I thought to myself, “this is so silly, it is a game, meant for enjoyment, and he is no longer having fun.”
Funny thing is, we do this, as adults, with living. Father gives us things for our enjoyment that all too soon become more of a burden than a blessing because we allow it. We allow our joy to be stolen simply because we do not always win. In our minds it is never enough to do our best and know that we did…to allow Father to guide us in dropping in our red or yellow tokens. He never intends for us to win every time. That is not what following Him is. We will lose. We will fall face-first sometimes… but when we do, instead of crossing our arms in frustration, we should be lifting them to The One. Don’t take yourself or this life so seriously that you forget that He wants us to enjoy it. It is not about winning, it about allowing Him to guide us, mold us, hold our trembling hands when we aren’t sure where to drop the token in next. Even if, sometimes, we lose, life with Father is still so, so good!
Stolen Goods
Stolen Goods:
This is by far the hardest birthday I have ever had. I will not go into any detail, but my life is hard right now. It is a season, a valley. Don't worry though, I know the One who carries me to the mountaintop, and I will see it again. The devil wants me, and the more I believe in a God who knows, the more the devil prizes my soul and tries to whisper his lies in my ear. "Unworthy. Unloved. Not enough", he tries to breathe to me in almost a taunting chant. Then I remember the One who formed me, my God, Father, and now when I cry out He's just Daddy, He reaches to cover my ears from the devil's lies and quiet my heart.
Today, when presented with birthday gifts, mom and dad gave me my much needed yearly gift, but mom also made sure I had something from my boys, this year, that was as important to them to have their own gift as it was to me.. we've struggled. Greyson has always had this thing about having his own personal gift for everyone (He gave my cousin ring pops in a gift box for his graduation and Jennifer Stephens Whitaker got a flamingo pen and tape dispenser for her birthday, all with his own money), so I guess when they gave me their gift, he realized that he didn't have one just from him. He quietly walked away and came back with his own gift bag stuffed with popped bubble wrap and these angel wings. He had helped mom wrap gifts and knows where she keeps everything. He had gone into the "gift room" and picked out what he wanted for me, bagged it, and had no idea where the tissue was, so he improvised with popped bubble wrap. He ran into the kitchen yelling happy birthday and so excited. Mom quickly realized that he had raided her gift supply, but today, she knew was not the day to explain thievery. It was a day to allow it. I graciously accepted the stolen goods from my boy with a hug and a kiss. He smiled the biggest and kissed me twenty times.
So today, I'm grateful for stolen goods and for the love of these boys. But, my heart, life, soul will NOT become the devil's stolen goods. I am more than the lies he whispers, we all are.
Hold Me, Mama
Wednesday night, Greyson had a night terror and no matter what I did, I could not convince him that it wasn’t real. Finally, he just looked up at me with tears streaming and said, “Hold me, Mama.” So, I scooped him up and carried him to living room rocking chair. He settled in and laid his head on my shoulder breathing short puffs against my neck from his hard crying. He wrapped one arm around me and whispered “Thank you for holding me. Can we rock?” So, there in the quietness of the midnight, I held my child and we rocked.
Eventually his breathing slowed, and I felt the tenseness of his little body relax against mine, the sweet breathing still gentle on my cheek. My mind drifted back to all the moments with this child.. feedings, diaper changes, the terrible twos, the worse threes, the curly hair, the sweet kisses, the scooter rides, all the things that make up our memories together. He is special, he is different, he is mine. As I thought these things, I found myself longing for rest too.. realizing that my “night terror” of the past year was still causing my breathing to be short and my body tense. Father only wants to hold me and rock, to feel my breath on His cheek and to hear me whisper, “Thank you for holding me.” I began to think about His nearness, His love. If I love this baby this much, how much more does Father love us?
He longs to be with us. He already knows us completely, but wants us to cry out to Him in our moments of weakness and lift our hands in praise in those moments, too. He is the Lion and the Lamb in our lives, strong and gentle. I have asked many times this year for His strength to renew me, and while, I have felt that, I have experienced more of His gentleness. His tender whispers in my ear when I finally nuzzle my tear-stained face into his neck.
Like Greyson’s trust in my abilities to build him a shelter against evil, I trust Father to do the same.. so as I lay against Him, He feels my breathing slow and my body relax in His arms. He is my home.
A Dose of Courage
Today, I took a deep breath and drove myself to the little corner store right outside my subdivision. I haven’t stepped foot in there in over a year. I sat in the car for a moment debating in my mind whether the short drive was a good idea. You see, inside that store is a cooler with Cheerwine in a glass bottles. My favorite thing ever. Many years ago, my husband requested them so that he could pick them up for me as small gifts now and then. We would stop at that store when my parents had the boys and we were headed out for a date. Sometimes, he would bring them home after work and on Sunday evenings, two were purchased while I cooked dinner. So many years of feeling like I was cared about housed in these glass bottles. Although, now, I realize that maybe they were just the means to ease a guilty mind, it still hurts. So bad.
Finally, I slowly opened the car door and stepped out… Father’s hand gently on my back. I walked in and straight to the cooler, and there they were. Father whispered, “you’re ok.” I grabbed one and a drink for the boys, paid, and walked out. I breathed deep, opened my door and sat in the driver’s seat staring at that glass bottle. Something so simple required so much time and courage to accomplish. I know the man who parked next to me thought I was insane as I sat there staring at a bottle of Cheerwine. I, honestly, was worried that when I put it to my lips it may taste different to me. But, I twisted the lid open and slowly let the cherry liquid cool my throat. I was wrong, courage tastes sweet.. and so does Father’s goodness!
Faith-Filled Freedom
Today, I got the ugly “D” word… a divorce. Thinking about this and the way that word makes me feel forces my mind drift back to when I read “The Scarlett Letter” in 10th grade. I feel like I am standing before everyone, a huge D plastered across my chest. But I didn’t lead myself here, nor did my behaviors. So many things pushed me to this point, but it is not who I am, and it is not what defines me. I will be loved again and that D.. it’ll fade, leaving only a trace on my garment. Someone will love me by looking past the letter and at a woman who didn’t give up, who presses on, who loves her children fiercely.
This divorce is the culmination of two years of excruciating pain, closeness of family, strengthened friendships, a new parenting role, and a nearness to Father unlike any other time in my life. While some of you may be reading this and aching for me right now.. don’t. Don’t dare let your mind believe for one second this has not been written for my life. Father is holding me and my sweet boys.. we are written on His Palm.
My time for anger and grief has passed. Just because life is different, does not mean it cannot be good, or even better.
I Love You
I love you.
When a child loves you, it comes from the purest of places. It says, “because you nurture and care for me, you have my love.” It expects nothing more, no stipulations. Everything you are draws them to love you more and more as they grow. And we love them more too, with each passing day, more than the wave of love that consumed us on the day of their birth. I count it the greatest privilege of my life to be their mother, even when my mirror is so dirty that Jesus’s reflection can barely be seen. Each day is a constant wiping of it, to ensure that they see Him in me. You see, it’s not about what we buy them or what new gadgets we add to the collection in their already crowded rooms. It’s what we show them. That is what produces love. Are we showing them grace? Are we modeling forgiveness?
It’s the same for Father. He is showing us. He has proven it with the greatest sacrifice that could ever be made. He IS the reflection of pure love. Are we loving Him as a child? Seeing His goodness in all things and trusting that He is doing what is right for us.. allowing Him to care for us? In Matthew 19:14, Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” He wants our childlike faith and our childlike love. The simple, pure, no stipulations kind of love, from His child who rests in the fact that He has got it, no matter what “it” is. He knows what’s best. He wants our “I love you.” Plain and simple.
And if your thoughts are that you have been a disobedient child and that He may no longer love you the way you’d want, you’re wrong. That blood, it covered all. ALL. Just like a parent, He longs to be with His children, all of them. No matter who you are or what you’ve done, you were created by His hand. He’s right there. Just turn around. You are never too far away to come home.
I'm Here
I am getting married... in 10 days. As part of our marriage counseling, our pastor asked us what defines our relationship with Christ in this moment. Immediately, my mind went to a blog that I had read on The Unraveling by Kelli Bachara a few years ago. It was about what we do as parents when our children have nightmares and we hear them crying. We hear their little footsteps in the hallway.. we tell them "Come on, Mama's here. You'll be ok." We do not wait until they make their own way down the dark hallway to remind them that we are there. We encourage them to find us through the dark. Sometimes, we get up from our beds and go to pick them up and carry them. I told this story sitting right there in front of the man I am marrying and our pastor.. hot tears stinging my eyes. I explained that Father reminded me He was there in the dark and called to me over and over. "I am right here, come on, follow My Voice to Me." There was never a moment in that dark hallway when I didn't hear Him, I just couldn't see Him quite yet. He was calling me to Him as my bare feet felt for ground underneath. Calling me by my name to come to Him and I stumbled in the darkness. He beckoned to me as His child.. called me out of the darkness and to His side. That nightmare, that darkness, a memory, but a valuable one. One in which I learned that there is an end to the darkness, a Father who called to me, and a loving embrace and a safe place waiting for me.
“In my distress I called to the LORD; I cried to my God for help. From his temple he heard my voice; my cry came before him, into his ears.” ~ Psalm 18:6, NIV