(My wrap-up and application to Ephesians – University of the Nations, School of Biblical Study.)
I remember the day the girls’ dad left our house. I had finally had enough of his drinking, his physical abuse, his name-calling, his non-stop need to control my every move. I had to file a court order to have him removed from our home. He stayed until the very moment the papers said he must be out, and as he was walking through the door, he couldn’t resist the urge to get in one last jab at my self-esteem.
“You’ll never find anyone who will want you,” he scowled. “Nobody in his right mind would ever love someone with three kids. Good luck with that.”
Those words made my soul ache. They were the final douse of gasoline on a raging, consuming fire that had been burning hot for four long years.
At that time, I didn’t care if anyone would ever love me or my kids ever again. I was just glad to have some peace and quiet and not feel like I was walking on eggshells 24 hours a day. I had lived that way with my son’s dad, and I had sworn I would never do it again. How stupid was I?
I did eventually find someone I thought loved me. Unfortunately, like my children’s fathers, that person didn’t love me either – he loved who he wanted me to be and who I tried to be with all my heart and soul so that I was sure to always have his love.
He loved me at 120 pounds and said he could never be married to anyone who weighed more than that. Fat people. How they disgusted him. I weighed 132 the day we were married. I never said a word.