Gone

She left.

She moved the clothes from the washer to the dryer, told the boys what was happening, and left.

In a way it is a relief.

No more suspicions. No more wondering. No more trying to heal her hurts.

I will continue to pray for her.

Right now I am busy comforting my children. That is going to keep me busy for some time.

I was praying with them, as I do each night, when I heard the car start up and drive away.

An hour ago I went out to catch up with her on her walk with our dog at the park. She was on her cell phone, talking, laughing. She hung up quickly when she saw me. With a few deft clicks she deleted the number.

A few moments later her confession made things clear.

She tried to tell me how hard she tried. Tried to tell me that it was her fault, not the man I said lacks integrity.

Isaac cried bitterly tonight. Huge racking sobs.

“This hurts so bad,” he told me. “Worse than when I cut myself. This hurts deep down inside.”

“I know. And it will hurt for a very long time,” I told him. “But you will somehow eventually fall asleep tonight. And you will wake up, and suddenly remember what has happened, and it will hurt all over again. But we will go through our day, and I will come up here again to talk and pray with you, and you will fall asleep. You will continue to sleep and wake and slowly this hurt won’t be so bad. You won’t forget this. It will always be a part of you. But the hurt will get less and I will always love you. I will help you and I will be there...”

I stayed with him for a while. He asked for a special prayer and I did my very best. He asked me to pray for Brenda, and again I gave my best, praying for her, blessing her, asking the Lord to protect her and to help her find healing and peace. He asked me to call our pastor and make an appointment for him to talk to our church’s shepherd. I did that.

I found her credit cards on the kitchen table, her reassurance that she was not going to hurt us financially.

The dog has been wandering the house, whining.

And I’m sitting here in bed, tapping at this keyboard watching Mike Rowe attempt the dirtiest jobs in the country while I try to let my heart settle.

I’ve been awake since 4:30 this morning and it is now 11:00 p.m. Perhaps I should try to get some sleep.