Are You Done Talking?

That question ran through me like a knife.  I was sitting at the table sobbing over something that I just couldn't come to grips with, when I made the ridiculous mistake of trying to talk to Mr. B about it.  In less than five minutes, staring in abject sullen silence, he suddenly blurted out this question.  "Are you done talking?"  My response was, "Yes."  And out the door he went.  To my sorrow, as always; it was only a temporary disregarding exit, rather than an actual departure.  

In the past two days, it seems our entire relationship has been like a rerun movie playing.  Truth of the matter is, if our relationship was a movie, it would have bombed at the box office, or . . . just landed on the editing room floor.  I've truly thought for years, I'm living the passage in Hebrews 12 about chastisement being unpleasant for a time . . . I'm beginning to sound to myself, like the children of Israel in Egypt.  It may very well be chastisement, as my marital track record was far from stellar.  My big problem in this, however; is the humiliation I feel in this trapped obligation in which I reside.  This is the first time, I've not been able to just take off and call it quits.  I was brought to this land, to this very place, and Mr. B tells me he's here, simply because he has no other place to be, and nothing to do.  I certainly can't argue with that!  He doesn't cook, he's not into housework, and he quit his job before our first anniversary . . .

I have to confess, however; I may have had pride in thinking this was going to be "happily ever after."  I mean, I'd finally "done marriage right," or so I thought.  Although I was divorced, and not just once, I didn't have premarital relations, I knew Abba had told me I was the woman for him, and I do believe in the natural flesh that is true, but I failed to enquire before the marriage, if we were soulmates.   I would strongly urge anyone contemplating matrimony to be sure and ask about being soulmates before saying, "I do."  Eve was Adam's rib, and we all know how that turned out . . . This "woman for him" deal has revealed the sheer horror of who I was in the flesh before becoming a believer.  I am so sorry for the pain I caused, good people.

I didn't realize until remembering back on our failed attempt at physical intimacy, that I had pride in that as well.  When Abba told me I was the right woman for Mr. B, I told Abba, he'd have to put the desire in me then, because I just didn't have it.  There was absolutely NO chemistry!  I simply did not find him physically attractive, but I was mature enough to know there is more to a person that physical appearance.  Imagine the humiliation when I got to hear, he just didn't find me desirable.  So, at least we have that in common . . . Unfortunately, I didn't get to hear that until after the wedding and a honeymoon beyond my worst nightmare.  Now, in looking back, by comparison, the honeymoon doesn't seem so bad.  At least it came to a conclusion . . .

The fact that we find each other less than desirable was sadly made worse by the fact that for the short time this man remained employed . . . that's another horror story; as he actually told "stories about me" like I was some easy/sleazy one night stand.  Knowing his veracity for truth, I doubt they were accurate, but all the worse.  Can you imagine taking your husband his "forgotten" lunch to a break room full of men who had been told "stories?"  I know this to be the case, because Mr. B told me about telling others . . . To make it more painful, I was a minister in the town, with a very well respected reputation, until . . .  Then there was the time, I sat at the dining room table while he drew an illustration about how parts were supposed to "fit."  All I can say about that incident was, "Praise be to G-d, all the thoughts bouncing through my brain did not fly out my mouth."

So, as Mr. B. snarled his question the other day, I realized, "Yes indeed, I'm done talking, as matter of fact, when it comes to any level of interacting, I am simply "done."  In all fairness to him, I have not spent nearly fourteen years suffering in silence.  I spent over three years doing everything I could think of, to get him to want a divorce, but after his surgery and disability, I've tried to keep my comments to a minimum and I've been made painfully aware, my feelings about our situation are irrelevant to his life.  I shake my head, shrug my shoulders, and have now resigned myself to, "It is what it is."  I've truly been matured to choose to focus on my real priorities in life, and as it turns out, finally . . . my priorities are YHWH, following Messiah, and sharing the reason for the hope that is in me to all who ask.  Along with the possibility of chastisement, I'm getting quite the lesson in learning about contentment!

But godliness with contentment is great gain . . . And having food and raiment let us be therewith content.

My Tiara Slipped

Since relocating, the time before and through the High Holy Days becomes challenging.  I miss my Temple mishpocha.  Challenging to the point I spend significant time seeking as to whether these pre-Holy Day challenges are chastisement or an attack.  Correction just isn't a strong enough word to describe what takes place.  It seems there's always an unexpected "breaking."  Three years ago it was a religious separating; which was a door closing rather hard, but a new one opened.  Two years ago, it was family and my arm, literally; chastisement and deliverance.  Last year it was the realization of broken promises and hurdles toward the Plan, which seemed to be both, chastisement and attack; but nothing happens without Abba's consent.  

This year, it was not as shocking as it has been in the past; but rather; even expected.  As a matter of fact, I've gone back over the last few weeks with Abba, to make sure, since I'm not in shock and did expect it, that I didn't do anything to cause any of the breakdowns that have occurred.  It's simply, sifting for the end of days.  As the end of days continue to unfold, we have to realize, although we are sisters and brothers, we won't all get along in the same communities or camps.

I think I've been labeled and sent to the "legalism," "pretenders," "fallen from grace," and "Sacred Namer" camp.  I can't possibly cover all that ground!  Although I was publicly called out on a few of them, I'm not completely sure about all of them, though; as the proposed labels and publicly proclaimed offences were never brought to me privately, as Scripture instructs. It has seemed a great many are expressing annoyance, and I'm not sure I have covered that much ground, so I'm taking this opportunity as a platform to proclaim the truth I do know.

Since I wasn't there with Moses when the Voice came from the burning bush, I don't debate the pronunciation.  That seems horribly disrespectful.  I'd always thought the precise pronunciation and proper spelling of the English transliteration were the earmarks of the Sacred Namers, but that label may cover more than my understanding of it, I may be wrong.  It seems anyone who offers the fact that Messiah's name is NOT Jesus and the fact that LORD is only a title qualifies for the dubious title of Sacred Namer.  The fact that the King James Version of the Bible actually bears a dedication page to the King of England and King is a title of importance above a Lord should serve as a clear wake-up call, but . . . Then there is also the fact that the letter "J" did not even come into existence until sometime around 1500 AD.

Abba has used these recent breaks to remind me of part of my call, and the precious instruction given to me. In all of these projects, I've been slacking.  It seems when the self-professed preachers and teachers of social media are willing to openly rebuke me or passively cause accusation, I prefer to leave quietly, without great confrontation, so as not to bring dishonor to our Heavenly Father, especially in front of unbelievers.  Being unfriended by the religiously offended, really doesn't bother me.

Abba gave me beautiful feet, brought me to a mountain to proclaim the Good News and part of that good news is the True Name of our Creator and His Son, and the Names are Sacred!  So Sacred, I refuse to argue about the pronunciation or the transliterated spelling; but also so sacred, I refuse to back down and say it doesn't matter!