Praising Him In The Storm

Tim and I separated in the summer of 1998 and didn't officially reconcile until May 2001. We lived in separate apartments, in different suburbs of Portland, Oregon and rarely came into contact, except through our attorneys, who were working out the terms of our imminent divorce. Those years are over, and--Praise The Lord, the Worker of Miracles-- we managed to stay together. Since then our relationship has grown, and we've matured. We both readily acknowledge that we are together by the direct intervention of God. Since renewing our vows in the presence of friends and family, we have had two more children and look forward to all God has for us.

But the pain of those years will never leave me. The pain I had while separated was acute, no different than if I had broken a bone or was lacerated and it never healed. I carried the pain with me at every moment. Even after our reconciliation, for years, I would recall the pain with the slightest whiff of a memory.

Now, what's left of the pain, I believe will never go away. It's a scar. In truth, I don't want it to go away. If it did I might forget what it feels like to be the one in acute pain. I value the scar as I sit beside a woman crushed in spirit, for my experiences mean I can feel her pain. I go weeks without feeling the scar, but at times it all rushes back.

It came back to me when, several visits to America ago, Heather's husband sang Praise You in This Storm by Casting Crowns. Dan has a great voice, and chose the perfect song to stir up my memories. I fought to hold back the tears as all the pain swept over me. When pain of that magnitude maims a person, turning away from God is the biggest lie the enemy will try to cause one to believe. The desire to numb the pain can outweigh everything else, even common sense. It was a forced decision to go against my human inclinations and continue to trust God during that time. And when I had had enough, my heaven-sent friends carried me back to the path God had for me. To "praise him in this storm" is to embrace the pain, and to feel the tears God cries on your behalf in the rain that falls. It hurts, but it's the best way to hurt.




~Reese