Finding Strength

Sticking to My Word

So after making a commitment to praying for my husband and releasing him to God, I got my first challenge to that resolve this weekend.  On our first scheduled phone call,  my husband became drunk.  He was literally drinking while on the phone to me.  All week he’d been saying how he was trusting God, how much his work colleague being there with him was helping him stay away from alcohol, and how he was on the road to recovery.  This work colleague was supposed to be acting as a pseudo “sobriety coach.”  I heard his therapist say, “Don’t wait until your work colleague leaves to get help, do it right now.”  He gave Harry list to complete and told him to text him as he completed each task.  A week came and went and he didn’t do any of them.  Call a wellness clinic to decide on a treatment plan.  Go to every AA meeting you can and get a real sponsor.  Get an appointment with a medical doctor.  NONE of them were done.  None.

Instead Harry chose to drink vodka in secret to stop the shakes.  All along telling me he wasn’t drinking at all and that he was fine.  All LIES.  Of course the only thing I care about is Harry getting better and every time I asked him about the things on the list that he promised I got this comment instead: “Please don’t be a school marm.”

He’s done it again.  He’s figured out a way to suck me back in with lies and then when he’s caught in those lies he demeans me and complains about my treatment of him.

So I told him that I would honor what I said to him and I will.  I’m still going to pray for him everyday.  I’m still going to love him.  And I will honor my marriage.  But I’m back to no contact.  His last words to me were, “Go away.”  He didn’t want to hear my anger, and he didn’t want to be called out for what he is doing to his body…that only last week he pledged the very opposite…he said he would honor his body, his wife, his commitment to God.  But when called out … he said “Go away.”

I had such high hopes.  I was already dreaming again about what a sober life with my Harry would be like.  What it would feel like to have my husband back being a true partner.  Feeling his kiss, and his arms wrapped around me.  And my spirit got crushed again.  I cried all day long yesterday.  And had to come to terms that he had no intention of doing the things he promised me.  AGAIN.

As long as he’s making excuses, rationalizing, and hiding the truth – I can’t have a relationship with him.  He’s not ready to get better.  I have to come to terms with the facts and those are the facts.  But I pray.  I pray to the all powerful Creator of the universe who is faithful to keep after my Harry.  Don’t let the enemy keeps its ugly grip on my husband.  Give him victory over this vice that is destroying his life.  Give my husband the eyes to see the truth about what he is doing to his life.  Give him the strength and courage to do something real to help himself.  Take away any person who will enable and placate him and put in their place people who are willing to tell him the hard truth.

This morning will be the last time I talk to him in a good long while.  I know I have to protect myself from his lies.  And that makes me so sad.  Sad isn’t even close.  I don’t even have the word for it.  It’s like losing a limb. He’s not there, my Harry is not there anymore.  Instead there is this sensation or feeling of what it used to be like to have him there.  But it’s all in my mind.  The reality is what I’m feeling is just in my head.  Because it doesn’t exist anymore.  Not the way it used to.

But I believe in a God of miracles and the One who can truly heal broken places in our souls.  So I will stick to my word, despite my disappointment and anger, I have to pray for my husband that God will deliver him from this evil.


2 thoughts on “Sticking to My Word

  1. It’s not Harry, it’s the disease. You need to find an alanon group and go to meetings – a lot of them. They will help you understand the disease of alcoholism so you can find peace and serenity and give him up to his higher power.

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