It’s just more layers, I said as I stood against the wall watching the kids play. The more I learn and heal, the more things I see to address.
Yep, my friend agreed. We just keep finding more junk the longer we pay attention.
At some point, I stopped thinking one day I’d just get to healthy; I’ve resigned myself to the fact there is always more work to do. What’s good about this realization is God is patient and kind about it.
A few months ago, I was driving my car and out of nowhere, two things that had been floating in my head forever came crashing together and made total sense. A shockingly easy connection I had never had until that moment.
Before I would have told myself I was dumb and naïve to not see the answer to something really obvious, but I’ve been blindsided and shocked enough to learn God doesn’t always let us know everything at the same time out of mercy and love, not control and pain.
He is gracious even in our suffering.
When Chris told me he had been secretly drinking for years, it took months to process and see the extent of what was happening, what I needed to do in response, and how to survive. If I had known the full story sitting in that counselor’s office on a rainy Wednesday evening in the spring of 2017, I would have called my divorce attorney that night and not looked back. God knew what I could handle in that moment, what He wanted to wait on, and what I would do with the knowledge when the time was right.
He allowed things to happen at a slower pace than I would have liked, but I can see now, from my view in the spring of 2019, He was doling out only what I could survive, only what was necessary for that moment, and nothing more.
He is gracious even in our suffering.
I don’t think any wife has emergency plans ready for when her husband surprises her with a hidden addiction. I know I didn’t. So God gave me the summer of 2017, new eyes, and a healthy dose of counseling and learning, to understand when I needed to take action. He gave me tools and people and told me when I needed to move.
He is gracious even in our suffering.
God was gracious in my suffering, but He was also gracious in Chris’. I think it is easy to see how God is good afterwards for ourselves, but less easy to see how He cared for those who were hurting us too. I don’t have time to get into that thought completely right now, but let’s just say, God timed my realizations well enough so I didn’t murder my husband. God kept Chris just safe enough to not be murdered in his sleep by his enraged wife.
God is good, friends.
It’s the same way with healing and relationships and growth—God doesn’t sit us down and make a list of all the ways we’re messing up. He gives us a little guidance, leads us to some truth and healing, and then reveals another area we can pay attention to.
The fight to get healthy always causes ripples. But He doesn’t let the ripples drown us, He lets us pay attention to one at a time so we don’t give up. (This is not the same as saying “He never gives us more than we can handle.” That is complete BS. He gives us more than we can handle all the time. That’s the point. None of us feel like we can handle what we’re going through; it’s why He wants us to rely on Him first. Then He’ll lead us home.)
When my marriage fell apart, God placed people and situations and places in my path to aid in the healing of my heart and my relationship. Once it was on a steadier ground, He said let’s use these lessons in other areas too. So He started changing my friendships, got rid of the ones that were hurting me more than helping me, and realigned the ones He kept for me.
When those things settled, He brought my attention to some other family dynamics that were needing attention. Then He gave me the patience and energy to see some things clearer.
Growing is just ripples; you take care of one small wave and then it gives you the endurance and wisdom to tackle the next one. As someone who wants to get as much done as quickly as possible (efficiency is my love language), this is a hard lesson I like to learn again and again.
His time, not mine.
His time, not mine.
His time, not mine.

Sometimes we need the healing and the wisdom from one healed area of our lives to be able to turn our attention to another. Sometimes we need the endurance and peace we gathered in one relationship struggle to move away from something else.
It’s not possible to work on better boundaries in your marriage without it spilling out into other relationships. It’s not possible to work toward healthy reactions without it impacting all the people you react to.
A somewhat vague story: My ultimate fear is betrayal. I trust people just enough to be in relationship with them, but not enough to feel safe. I was burned often and early so my defense mechanism is to keep my cards close to my heart and only give you what won’t hurt me. The reality is, I married someone who has betrayed me many, many times. Weeding through those wounds and scars, some of them present long before I met Chris Graham has been a large part of the last few years of my counseling. When I became aware—when I could truly see with fresh eyes—the way most of my close relationships were with people who often lied to me, it changed everything. At first it changed my marriage. Then in changed my family relationships. And then it came for my friendships.
I said no more lying in my marriage, and Chris said he needs help to be better.
I said no more lying in my family and lots of conversations stopped because people didn’t know what to talk about.
I said no more lying to my best friend and she said you’re not worth telling the truth to and she left.
He is gracious even in our suffering.
I’ve lost a lot in the past two years. Things that hurt. Things I didn’t expect. Things that felt like more betrayal and lies.
But when I say He is gracious even in our suffering, I am adamant He is still kind and loving and merciful. Pain doesn’t last forever. He can heal your broken heart. He can make new relationships and conversations and marriages. I only write about things I know and this, this I know in my bones.
If right now, it feels like too much.
If right now, you can see no end.
If right now, you’ve forgotten His promises.
If right now, you feel like you’re drowning.
Keep going.
Keep going.
Keep going.
He is gracious even in our suffering.
Mary, I can very much identify with this beautifully written blog entry. You put into words succinctly so many things the Lord has been teaching me the past three years. Although my husband’s addiction wasn’t to alcohol or drugs but to another woman, the betrayal, hurt and suffering are similar. My husband decided God wasn’t big enough to heal and restore what was damaged and broken, so he left. But God has never left me for even one moment. Believe me, He heard an earful…or two or three hundred. But God stayed. I am grateful for the people and counselors who have walked this out with me. At the end of the day, I can always turn to what I know to be true about God. Thanks for your honesty and your willingness to put your thoughts into this blog. I’m grateful.
Ellen, I am so sorry. I’m also thankful our God is bigger than our broken hearts and our disappointments. Thanks for reading and for the encouragement.