Fellowship Broken
It began long ago, when Jerimiah was still on staff at The Rock. Having a very analytical mind, he began to ask the hard questions about God and the Bible. He claimed to have searched the Bible and found more contradictions than answers. So, he surreptitiously asked his colleagues. But to Jerimiah, their answers seemed more like excuses for God. God was apparently silent on the issues and Jerimiah entered into a time of great fear. He wouldn’t tell me much about his struggles because he said he didn’t want to mess up my walk with God. But he wrestled. And he thought.
As the years went on, his tone changed. He didn’t want to reveal his true thoughts to me because he feared my reaction to what he had become.
An atheist.
He’s made it through fear and come out on the other side. He is happy with his enlightenment. He is happy he’s no longer “delusional” and no longer believing in an all-powerful and loving Creator that doesn’t actually exist. Because if the all-powerful and loving Creator actually existed like the one he says the Bible describes, that being would be a terrible being.
And here we are. It’s so simple to write, yet I still grieve over the ramifications. The fellowship once comprised of God, Jerimiah, and Beth has been broken. Epic Ecclesiastes 4:12 fail.
This was a verse Jerimiah once believed, seemingly with his whole heart. Our promises at the alter were not just to each other. They were heard, sealed, and cemented by God. It was a given that we would raise our future children in such a way that they would hopefully come to know and love God—to actively take hold of Him. Our new reality is that Jerimiah and I find ourselves at powerful odds about something that was once a fundamental part of our marriage. Mine and Jerimiah’s “spiritual” desires for our two daughters are in violent opposition.
In my grief, I wondered what life might be like if I went the way of Jerimiah, to move on together without God. At first it felt earthy and bright—blissfully free of conflict and discord. Our family belted out the Guardians of the Galaxy soundtrack while cruising in our station wagon on the way to one of many weekend adventures involving backpacking amid the redwoods, forest fairy sightings, and daring narwhal rescues. But as soon as clouds passed overhead, my reverie shattered and I was chilled by a horrific emptiness.
Something within me changed during the years I spent with God writing Let Me Fall. I believe God and I laughed over cups of Chai tea. I believe we danced in the moonlight. I believe His arms held me when I could not hold the pieces of me together. I can’t prove any of it, but it doesn’t change the fact that I was altered on a soul level. I nearly doubled over because of the depth of sorrow and agony my betrayal would cause God.
I couldn’t do it. Not after He gave up heaven to rescue me.
As the pain of my new reality set in, I wanted to give up at life—to collapse at the base of the mountain I recently descended with the Holy Spirit while writing Let Me Fall and there remain until the woodland foliage had made a bittersweet monument of me. Sonnets would be written about the once great love of Jerimiah, Beth, and God, and the tragic ending of their tale. But just as I was gently humming the melancholy tune I’d created, I heard a rustle. I brushed off the forest debris, looked up, and saw the Holy Spirit leaning on a splintered cross with my name on it. And I knew.
“If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” Matthew 16:24-25
I lifted my hand, the Holy Spirit clasped it in His and pulled me to my feet.
“He still loves you. Remember?” said the Holy Spirit.
“Who, God?” I asked.
“Well of course, but that’s not who I was talking about.” His warm hand still enveloped mine and He reached His other to pick the remaining leaves out of my tangled mane. “Throughout this difficult journey, Jerimiah has consistently reminded you of his love for you, his love for your daughters, and the fact that he will not give up on his marriage or his family no matter how difficult the divide causes your lives to become. Many things about him have changed, but some never will.”
I nodded my head but the tears still pooled and spilled down my cheeks. When I finally found my voice, I asked, “What’s going to happen now?”
The Holy Spirit studied me for a moment and asked, “Do you trust me?”
I inhaled and mulled over His question. Did I? One of the things I had admired most about the Jerimiah of my youth was his unapologetic relationship with God. The reason Jerimiah and I got married when he was 20 and I was 18 is because we felt it was what God wanted. If God is truly omniscient, He had to have seen Jerimiah’s atheism coming. So why in the world was our marriage “allowed?” My face was getting hot and I dropped His hand. I thought about Ava and Elle and the depth of my desire for them to come to know and love God. Not only am I completely alone in desperately wanting something for them, that opposition is hostile. I felt my chest tighten even more than usual—the constant weight of their eternity pressed on me coupled with the dread of going head-to-head with Jerimiah. “I—I don’t really want to answer that right now,” I said.
“Go ahead and ask me your question,” He said.
I felt like shouting it, but my question came out in a soft growl. “Why?”
“A war has been raging since the dawn of humanity and you’re in the thick of it. If you won’t learn the discipline of a prayer warrior and actually engage in battle, those you love might be lost.” His tone was gentle when He said, “Don’t confuse the darkness of your current state with my plans. This is the battle meant for you. From the day you and Jerimiah were born, to the August day in 1994 when he sat by you in Algebra, to the day each of your precious girls came into being, I’ve had a plan. And I’m not done.” He paused. “The darker the battle, the greater the opportunity for me to show who I am.”
I knew He was right. I thought back to the ending of Let Me Fall. I had figuratively descended a mountain with God. And what’s at the bottom of a mountain? The valley. It’s where life happens. It’s where the battles are won.
“Okay,” I said. “I trust You.” I’m not sure why, but I expected Him to be sarcastic and tell me that it’s about time. Instead, He simply said, “Good,” and His gentle hands helped me shoulder my cross.
Trust in the LORD, and do good; dwell in the land and befriend faithfulness. Delight yourself in the LORD, and he will give you the desires of your heart. Psalm 37:3-4
And you shall know that I am the LORD, when I open your graves, and raise you from your graves, O my people. And I will put my Spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you in your own land. Then you shall know that I am the LORD; I have spoken, and I will do it, declares the LORD. Ezekiel 37:13-14
September 16, 2019 8 Comments