The Waiting Walk

August 11, 2001 ~ 25 Years Later

Look at you, beautiful girl… so young, so naive, so innocent… so full of hopes and dreams and love and light…

The guests are here. The decorations are up. The pastor is waiting. You are preparing to walk down that aisle. And looking back on today, 25 years from now, there are a few things I think it’s important that you know. Maybe sit down for this…

Today you will begin a 20-year journey that will take you places you never imagined. And since I can’t actually reach back in time and tell you to run, I’ll tell you this instead:

• You’re going to travel quite a bit, and move around a lot. You’ll actually love that.
• You’ll become a ministry couple, the “first lady,” la pastora, the pastor’s wife. You’ll love that too. A lot!
• You’ll become a mama! And girl, let me tell you, that journey will be one you can’t imagine right now. Long story short, you’ll end up claiming eleven beautiful children – five of whom will eventually share your last name, none of whom will share your genes, and all of whom will have your heart forever.
• You’ll become a teacher and an administrator. You’ll enjoy both those things as well. And having that solid job – that will be your lifeline.
• Unfortunately you’ll also eventually be able to check the box “divorced” when filling out forms. Ya… I’m really sorry. I know that hasn’t even entered your mind as a possibility yet. And telling you this today is definitely a mood killer, because right now you are committing to a “till-death-do-us-part” journey. Please remember this in 20 years: you loved. You committed. You worked hard. Oh so hard. Your love was real, and that is beautiful. You kept your vows. You will question this entire marriage someday, because you’ll realize that truly, this should never have lasted for even the 20 years it did. Honestly, today should never have happened at all. But please know that what you’re committing to today, you will make good on. And know, truly, that God will never waste your pain.

Tomorrow morning you will wake up with a feeling you won’t be able to describe – but it will be very distinct and you’ll reflect on it often over the next 20 years and even beyond.

It isn’t regret, though you’ll wonder at first if it is. It’s obviously not happiness and excitement, but you will, thankfully, feel those as well. It isn’t sadness. It isn’t fear.

The best way you’ll eventually settle on to describe it is simply a heavy feeling. A feeling of finality. Your choice is made. Your future sealed. For better or for worse…

Unfortunately that heavy feeling will become such a normal part of your life that often you won’t even recognize that it’s there. You will still feel joy and have fun and be in love and experience so many wonderful things. So much of the next 20 years will contain goodness and adventure and learning and growing and making wonderful friends. Relish these things. Embrace all of that goodness. It will be real. And you’ll still have those good memories even after the marriage is over.

It will be ok to enjoy these good memories forever – you don’t need to feel conflicted or guilty about this (though you will struggle with this for a while too). You’ll learn a new term: dialectical thinking. Embrace it.

Twenty years from today you will be dealing with more than you can even comprehend right now. Your body will be falling apart, and you’ll be wondering if the world would perhaps be better off without you in it. You’ll be wondering why your 20 year anniversary doesn’t feel like the celebration you always dreamed it would; you’ll wonder what is wrong with you. You’ll be reflecting back on the vacation of the previous week where you experienced abandonment and hatred at a level the you-of-today cannot even fathom.

You’ll shed some really devastated, ugly, heartbroken tears. Alone. And in silence. The pain will be indescribable.

Please know this: God will meet you there. And you, sweet one, will absolutely survive it.

You will.

I’m not even going to tell you about the four months following your 20-year anniversary. It will be dark. The things documentaries and psychological thrillers are made from. You’ll think there is no way you can possibly survive this. You’ll fear your children will never, ever be able to recover from the damage done. Damage you played a part in.

But again, you will survive this. You will.

And, somehow, so will your children.

In 20 years and 4 months you will look into the mirror at the end of the most terrifying night of your life and you will absolutely wonder “How did I get HERE???” But as you look at those tired eyes, you’ll also feel hope. You’ll see a spark! It’s the same spark that is now flickering in your eyes today, dear one, but on that night it will have so much more fire.

Oh girl, you will experience the most glorious feeling mixed in with all that devastation and pain, because that feeling of heavy finality that you’ll have lived with for 20 years will lift on that night. A sweet relief you hadn’t known you needed.

As for your kids… well, the journey will be devastatingly hard, crushing for them, but they will each thank you for doing that hard thing. For leaving. And slowly they’ll all start making really good progress towards becoming healthier versions of themselves.

In the years immediately following the divorce, you’ll cry a lot (like a LOT), but please know that nearly half your tears will be from overwhelming joy at your renewed life…

Later, as your children heal, they’ll feel and face a lot of anger. Anger that they weren’t protected as children should be. Anger that things happened to them that should never happen to anyone, much less children. Eventually some of that anger will be directed at you. And justifiably so.

But by the time you all enter this stage of the healing journey, you’ll be able to accept all of this. To understand that while your intentions were good, more often the impact was devastating. And those actions, that impact, has consequences.

You’ll be able to allow so much space and grace for your children to feel all that anger, even the anger directed at you. You’ll be grateful for the healing taking place, even if the ride to get there is extremely bumpy at times.

You’ll be ok.

And then you’ll be more than OK.

You will look back and wish, oh how you’ll wish, that things had gone differently. That things could have turned out differently.

All the potential you see and feel and hang on to today – it’s real. It COULD have gone differently.

But those choices were not yours to make.

And in 25 years you’ll understand so very well that while it’s OK to see potential, potential is not where we live or how we make decisions.

You’ll fully embrace a radical acceptance of reality. No matter what that reality is.

Part of your processing will be to wonder, often, if this choice you’re making today will have been worth it…

You’ll wonder if the pain that others experienced due to this choice today will have been worth it…

But we can’t answer that question.

And it does no good to try.

In spite of all this, please have no fear: the God you serve is enough. And He can create beauty from ashes. He will take you, and those amazing children you’ll someday have, from any point you find yourselves, and do great things. You can’t mess this up beyond His loving grasp. You aren’t that powerful.

Mostly, I want you to know this. That even though today is beginning the hardest season of your life, that 25 years from today, you’ll really love that girl in the mirror.

A lot.

And who you are in 25 years will be because of everything – everything – that you’ll experience along the way.

You will choose love.

You will choose joy.

You will choose growth and healing.

You will choose forgiveness.

And girl, the fact that you will choose those things rather than bitterness and anger? That is incredible.

And it’s due in large part to who you are today, already, at only 21 years old.

So go ahead. It will end up OK.

Go walk down the aisle. Go on the honeymoon. Travel. Do ministry. Become the pastor’s wife. Help lead the youth groups. Connect with the women in your churches. Obsess over healthy eating. Get the degrees. Become the teacher. Become the administrator. Dive head first into being a foster mama. Embrace your breaking heart when you have to say goodbye. Adopt! Be an inadequate mother. Then be a better one. Make the mistakes. Offer the apologies. Make the changes. File for the divorce. Go to therapy. Face the future with confidence and love.

And know with certainty that you’re really, really going to love who you become on the other side. More than is even possible for you to envision today.

There’s something about being in darkness that makes the light even more beautiful than we could have ever understood before. And in 25 years your life will be full, so full, of light.

A wedding is waiting. A heartbreaking yet beautiful journey begins today. And all the ingredients you need in order to survive it – and then thrive – are in you today.

You do absolutely have what it takes…

I love you, beautiful girl. And I’m sending you so much grace and care and compassion. The love and grace and care and compassion that already lives in you. That is you.

Now, off you go. For better or worse…

See you in 25 years, when you will celebrate this day by taking yourself out to the cutest local coffee shop and treating yourself to a Goddess Latte.

And as you reflect back, you’ll gratefully savor the life you now live – one that is so much more wonderful than the you-of-today can even begin to dream about.