As I wake up in the early morning darkness and lay quietly in the warmth of my bed, I notice the quiet all around me, the stillness of just me, alone, in a peaceful place.

I’ve moved into a small apartment on our property. It has been very healing to be there alone and think, pray, and just be still with God. I have done quite a bit of healing through an ETT intensive (3-day session), and I no longer have any ruminating thoughts about his acting out behaviors or his AP. I am free of the thoughts that would not quit running through my head.

Does this mean reconciliation? No, far from it. I do not know what the future brings other than staying still and waiting. Waiting to see if he is actually in recovery. Right now, my answer is no, he isn’t in true recovery. Why do I say that? If you are in a place where your husband is going to meetings (virtual/phone), but still is unable to speak or communicate his feelings, discuss what he is learning about himself and how he is healing, I really don’t believe he is in recovery. He cannot discuss feelings or past hurts/deceptions/lies without defensiveness or anger. He is still in a mode of letting me know, whether in words or his actions when I share my heart and hurt, that I need to get over it.

So, the stillness of the quiet morning brings me an inner peace unlike I’ve known the past three years. I am content living alone at this moment in time. He comes up in the morning to read the paper while I have my morning coffee. He then departs until dinner time which we have together and watch TV. He is only capable of discussing superficial subjects: the weather, tv shows, what is happening on the news. I ask myself if that is enough. I don’t have the answer yet. So the stillness of being, the stillness of being quiet, the stillness of just observing….I cling to that stillness like a long, lost friend. Stillness can soothe a spirit if I truly let it. Still the mind, still the thoughts. Wrapping my stillness around God and His eternal love for me has brought me to a place of peace.

I pray for you that you can get to that place. A stillness that brings to you the truth of who you are: worthy, loved, strong, resilient, all the things you believed betrayal took from you. It didn’t. You were and are still all of those things. Remember that.

Blessings,

S. Heart