Fist In My Face

Red flags were raising up every step of the way. I read the writing on the wall. I looked the other way. It started in confusion and ended in mass confusion.  Warnings weren’t loud enough because I turned a deaf ear. I wanted to hear what I wanted to hear.

Just one drop of your love had me trippin’, stumblin’, flippin’, fumblin’ . One drop wasn’t enough,  I tripped, stumbled, fell and broke my heart.

It wasn’t his fault he struggled with anxiety. I had the peace of God , he didn’t so he was stealing it from me. Stress mounted up so high. The coping mechanism was to act out violently. Doing the same things over in insanity. Frustrated because nothing was working. His way was off the narrow path, back unto the broad one everyone else was walking on. He said I don’t want to do what you have to do to have peace. I can’t change this is who I am. Reading the Bible daily was what I do, that’s really not so hard unless burred sin wants to hide in you and you want it to.

I waited 16 years for this second marriage, He was the best husband, and the worst at the same time.  He once held my hand with the fist I woke up with in my face. The only way to stop it was to go our separate ways.

Please ladies don’t make the same mistake.  The hardest thing is still loving him and knowing I’d be dead if my head was on the pillow in his bed.

My prayers are that he will surrender his heart to the Lord fully. Redemption may take place. In the meantime, I’m pressing forward towards the mark, I’ll be winning this race.