Perhaps you need to hear this: a lot can happen in a year.
Like, a whole, whole lot.
A year ago last month, my ex-husband stood in our bedroom doorway with a duffel bag slung across his shoulder as he told me he was going to sleep somewhere else that night.
I remember the anxiety, the fear of what this meant for my future, the wracking of my brain to think whether there was just one more thing I could do that might make him stay.
After a few very difficult years with too many tragedies, I was sure this final blow would be my collapse.
I wrote a post a year ago titled “A Weary World Rejoices.” That line in O Holy Night was my anthem. Gosh, I was so weary.
Shortly after he left, I started making a plan. Planning is my (false) security. I started going to a counselor, I read whatever she told me to read, I took care of myself, I made time for friends and made time to be alone. Then, when it was clear the divorce was happening, I met with a lawyer, met with a realtor, met with a financial planner.
All the plans.
Tucked in the back of my mind was that I might, someday, plan to go on a date, with someone, somewhere, just for fun. But I was certain that that wouldn’t be until at least a year after the divorce.
That was the plan, anyway.
During the early part of summer, I can remember exactly where I was sitting on my couch when I began to hear God so clearly as I was reading and praying. “I know this isn’t part of your plan, Molly, but could you trust Me even if I moved you out of state?” (He and I both knew this meant away from my friends and family which seemed like quite a bold move on His part considering all He had put me through.)
A few days later, I wrote a post about the redemption of my relationship with my step-mom, Jackie, and to my shock, He said, “What about you as a step-mom? Could you trust Me with that?”
Two enormous seeds He planted in my mind and heart that week. I wrote about those two seeds in my journal. I resolved that as long as the Lord would go with me — and I knew He would — I could do whatever He asked me to do. It was a big day.
Then, in July, a friend of mine asked if I was ready to date yet. This came as a shock, because I assumed I wouldn’t be crossing that bridge for a while still. “He lives out of state, is divorced, and has two kids,” she said.
Umm, nope, no thank you, and no, I thought.
But then she started to tell me about him. He didn’t sound like the average guy, and he wasn’t. We started slowly, chatting via Facebook Messenger. I delayed giving him my number at first, because I still wasn’t sure I was ready for this. But then he told me about making ballet buns on the heads of his two little ballerinas, and I was a goner!
Over many hours of phone conversation and eventually face-to-face adventures, I quickly became captivated by and grateful for the intentional, wise, lavishingly thoughtful, and ridiculously funny man God brought into my life.
And I just have to share this crazy thing with you: in a hilarious twist that only God could spin, my sweet dog’s name is Marty. His real name is Marten (after the trucking company because I was obsessed with those trucks when I was little) but everyone calls him Marty. Then, because I think everything has to have a middle name, I’ve ended up calling him Marty Guy. All the people closest to me call him that: Marty Guy.
Well, this guy I’ve been dating, his first name actually is Guy! And his middle name is Martin! Marty (Marten) Guy and Guy Martin…are you kidding me?! Don’t tell me God doesn’t have a sense of humor!
And so, we’ve been doing this thing, carefully and intentionally, ever since.
He is a gift to me. I am in awe of the way he treats people, the depth of his friendships, and the thoughtful ways he’s cared for me. I love hearing him talk (with a hint of a Southern accent) about the day’s crop from his garden, sitting next to him in church, and raising my eye brows at him when he feeds Marty people-food to which he replies, “I guess I just like to feed a dawg.” It feels SO good to smile and giggle again! Truly, I have never felt this loved.
A whole, whole lot has changed in a year.
Last Christmas, I remember sitting alone in front of my fireplace and reading this verse:
Hear me as I pray, O Lord.
Be merciful and answer me!
My heart has heard you say, “Come and talk with me.”
And my heart responds, “Lord, I am coming.”
Do not turn your back on me.
Do not reject your servant in anger.
You have always been my helper.
Don’t leave me now; don’t abandon me,
O God of my salvation!
Even if my father and mother abandon me,
the Lord will hold me close.
Teach me how to live, O Lord.
Lead me along the right path,
for my enemies are waiting for me.
Do not let me fall into their hands.
For they accuse me of things I’ve never done;
with every breath they threaten me with violence.
There was a lot going on last year. So much fear, anxiety, grief, and loneliness. At times, I could barely function. Yet, I resonated with those verses. I felt like I was not alone, because I could relate to those feelings. I wondered if I would feel this despair forever.
And right after those words, I found this promise:
Yet I am confident I will see the Lord’s goodness
while I am here in the land of the living.
Wait patiently for the Lord.
Be brave and courageous.
Yes, wait patiently for the Lord.
In the midst of darkness, we need to remember this hope! I needed to know that GOOD would come here in the land of the living and not only when I got to Heaven. I needed to cling to the hope that it would not always be this unbearable, that there would be some goodness eventually.
And right there, I found it. The goodness will come. All it said I had to do was wait: be brave and courageous and wait.
Or I like how my friend, Star, puts it. Star has beautiful, white hair on her head, so she knows a thing to two. This summer, only a couple weeks before Guy entered the scene, I was having breakfast with her and two other friends. Star told me about her own love story — a second marriage which has brought her love, joy, and a redemption that she never expected, and it came in the form of Gordon, one of the most tender and funny men I know. She said, “Molly, I know God is not done with you yet. I don’t know what He’s doing, but right now as you wait, you just need to get ready for it. Work on yourself, have some fun, seek Jesus. Something’s coming, Honey, so get ready!”
And I say the same thing to you, weary friend: get ready!
When we bring our negative conditions to the Lord, He will do something in His timing. So, we keep praying and waiting for the teenager to return, for the money to arrive, for the weight of grief to be lifted just a little. We have no idea what it will look like, but we wait with expectation. We bravely continue to do each day — set a morning alarm, go to work, buy groceries, fold laundry and pay bills — because we are clinging to the hope that we will see His goodness.
When we bring our negative conditions to the Lord, He will do something in His timing. So, we wait.
“I wait for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning.” Psalm 130:6
I love this picture of a watchman. I picture a man in a lighthouse in the midst of a terrible night storm. This is not a passive waiting. It’s a waiting up on our tiptoes with our face pressed against the window looking as far out onto the horizon as we can. It’s a Hope, bubbling with expectation and daring to believe that even in darkness, we still have a reason to sing because we know the night won’t last forever: the morning always comes.
Isaiah 61:3 tells us the Lord desires to reverse the grief in our lives:
To all who mourn in Israel,
he will give a crown of beauty for ashes,
a joyous blessing instead of mourning,
festive praise instead of despair.
In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks
that the Lord has planted for his own glory.
Our God is the master of reversals. Total and complete one-eighties. He wants to show you what He can do with that thing in your life, and He wants you to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was HIS doing. Please don’t call it a coincidence when it happens!
And when the goodness comes, celebrate it! Because God is not only glorified in our suffering, but He’s also glorified in our celebrating. Circumstances worth celebrating are meant to be celebrated! Let’s not short ourselves in the celebrating. On Monday morning at the copy machine, my dear friend and co-worker, Liz, asked, “So how was the weekend with Guy?” The enormity of my smile was almost embarrassing — but I’m not going to stop celebrating the goodness.
I don’t know where you are today. Perhaps you are feeling the weight of a weary world as I was last year. But even still, in my moments of despair, He knew the good that was coming. Every so often, I could hear Him whisper to me, “Just hang on, Molly. The morning is coming, and it’s going to be beautiful. I’ve got something up My sleeve.”
And boy, did He. The anxiety, fear, loneliness, and grief of last year, He has turned to peace, hope, love, and joy. And I know He’s not done.
He can do the same in your life. Wait. Be brave and courageous. And get ready!
Last year, my shattered soul shouted “a weary world rejoices,” but this year my heart proclaims the joy felt through “a thrill of hope.”
A lot can happen in a year.