I am seven days away from my divorce being final.
Final. Wow. There must be a cauldron under the surface but, for now and while there are still things to be decided, I feel calm.
Head up, eyes straight, staying alert.
In some ways, this is not a week to bash on regardless. This is a week to be prayerful, thoughtful, slow. To stay in the present moment.
In slowness there is time to see things. I realized today, for example, that as awful as this process is (just as awful as you suspect except worse), I am blessed to go through it cleanly:
I am not in doubt;
I don’t hate;
I’m no longer bitter;
I don’t seek vengeance;
I have no agenda;
I’m not trying to finagle;
I wish well to the other side;
I am clear in my mind.
This must be one of the best ways you can get to take this path (if you have to take it). Just walking it out. And my calm, my clarity, my patience, have been given. They’re not coming from me.
I can grasp that the only thing I’m looking for in final settlement is a sealing. While this cannot be fully accomplished because of the children, as much as can be cauterized of the communal life now gone I pray we do effectively. Wholly.
I am saved from looking backwards. No recriminations now could be worse than divorce being the ultimate consequence. Whatever either of us did or didn’t do before, the horse is dead. Flogging it won’t help.
This week, there are things I’m still unsure how to resolve. Some large things. So I woke up this morning ready to listen and watch. I’m on the lookout for new information or confirmation or newly arriving decision.
In the meantime, I am standing squarely on the promises made to me:
“Whether you go to the right or to the left, you will hear a voice behind you saying, “THIS is the way, walk in it.””
“In your heart, Josie, you plan your course… but I determine your steps.”
“I will withhold from you no good thing, Josie.”
“I shelter you and the children in the shadow of my wings, Josie. It doesn’t matter how far the drop! You’re safe.”
“Be strong. Take heart. You are waiting for Me, Josie.”
“Trust me. Don’t forget all that I’ve done already.”
“I’m not going to leave you now. I’m never going to leave you, Josie.”
“You belong to Me. No one else.”
So I walk into this final week with open hands. As long as I keep my hands open, I can read what I’ve written on my palm.
I don’t always know the right way to go, but I know how to recognize it. And so I go where there is light for my path and a lamp for my feet.
I’ve taped the qualities of wisdom to my desktop. For every email. Every point of contact. Every decision.
And I am immeasurably grateful that –
I’ve placed all my chips in one place.
I am looking for help in one direction.
I am relying on one unchanging nature. The only one that doesn’t change and is Good. Not only to me, but to all.
My hands are open, and I can only discover the best route for me by walking forward slowly.
That’s my week this week:
Step by step.