Remember my trouble and my traveling from place to place, the wormwood and bitter feelings. Lamentations 3:19

I can remember exactly what his skin feels like.  Not in a sexual way but in an everyday, hand holding or simple hug kind of way.  I remember his hands closed around my face just because I needed to feel that close to someone.  I remember my head fitting perfectly between his shoulder and chest... my mahali... my place.  This is what I remember, and I miss it so much I can't catch my breath.

I can't seem to remember having to change clothes or have him leave without me.  I also can't remember having to cook an entirely new meal because the first one wasn't good enough or what he wanted.  I can't remember being negated after every phrase, especially if we were with people.  I can't even seem to remember asking God if I could just go home now instead of trying to live graciously through the pain that was my wedding vow.

Some would say it is a blessing to struggle to remember the bad and the bitter of life.  I suppose there is truth to that.  Maybe I've always been this way, or maybe, as my social worker friends would say, I have learned such a behavior as a survival mechanism.  So yeah, I guess when I was in the midst of the flames a short lived memory of all that was wrong was a wonderful gift.

But what about now?  How can I convince my heart to stay away when my mind refuses to let me feel the pain?  When all I want is a hand on my cheek, how can I force myself to feel all the nights spent worrying and crying and wondering as the bed stayed empty into the late hours (or sometimes the early ones.)

I questioned myself today if I wanted to go back, if nothing ever changes would I prefer that life to the unknown future?  I still have no answer.  I have seen true beauty in the man I married and believe so strongly that he can be that man.  God created him to be the wonderful man.  I will never give up hope of that, never give up on restoration.  But now is the time to remember the trouble and the bitter feelings, to allow the Holy Spirit to heal the wounds I have somehow buried deep, and to trust in God who is the only one that can not only restore what was but create something new and abundantly better.