“I keep praying for God to give me a sign”, was a comment made by a woman on my Face Book. I was immediately transported 15 years back in time; ………I am in my garden, about a year into my relationship with James, with tears streaming down my cheeks, a glass of wine in one hand and my garden rake in the other, face to the sky, pleading for God to please give me a some sort of sign telling me what I should do. I don’t know what kind of sign I was expecting, writing in the sky? a bolt of lightening? a booming voice saying, “Run you fool run!!” God can only do so much and I wanted some sort of undeniable concrete evidence that I should leave or stay.
For 9 years I prayed for God to give me a sign. Looking back I can imagine God slapping his forehead in frustration wishing he could slap ME upside the head with a 2×4. As I was sounding like a broken record, crying, begging for a sign telling me what I should do; I can imagine God wanting to scream, “What more do you want?? You don’t want the truth so stop asking for it!”
It isn’t that God didn’t give me signs, tons of them, time after time after time………
- I had never snooped on a partner in my life but out of the blue I was hit by some force to check James’ barrack box. When I opened the box there was a notebook right on top. I opened the notebook at a random page that described how he had hit the young girl he had always told me left him for no reason. His words jumped out at me, “Just like all the rest, she wouldn’t shut up; so I hit her.” He went on to describe how when they got home he took the phone in the bedroom and called her family and friends and complained about her. How he was cold and uncaring and went to sleep leaving her crying, pregnant and alone. He left to do a run the next morning and called her 1/2 way through the next day to say, “I love you” and she had replied, “You woke me up to say that?” and hung up. She never answered the phone again and when he got home the apartment was empty and she was gone. Did I take it as a sign that I should also pack my bags and run? Oh no, I took it to mean I should prove to him I wasn’t going to leave him. I knew how much he loved me, how much her leaving had hurt him; after all he had told me, no woman had ever loved him like I did. He had thought he had loved before but I had shown him what true love was all about.
- Or when time after time some bizarre “co-incidence” would reveal another one of his lies.
- Or when, while looking for scrap paper I found proof he had forged my signature and altered my police statement.
- Or when I accidentally ran into the guy who was on the way to the bank to get the money to buy a truck from James, MY truck.
- Or how every time we split I did SO much better financially and everything I needed was miraculously given to me.
I could go on and on, after all it was 10 years of gas lighting, living with Jekyll and Hyde, “I love you today”, “I keep telling you my love is cycleable”, “I can’t live with your warped view of reality” “I can’t live with your dysfunctional way of thinking”, “Of course I am looking for other women, look what I live with.” “I wouldn’t look elsewhere if you trusted me”. How many times did he tell me it was over? how many times did I leave just to have him beg me back, making promises he never kept? How many personal ads did I find without even having to look for them? How many jobs did he lose because he was “falsely” accused of stealing? How many friends did he lose because he was “falsely” accused of stealing? How many times did we move to another town to get a “fresh start”?
How many signs did I need? I ignored the obvious signs that I was with one majorly fucked up psychopath and chose to interpret obscure “signs” to mean I should stay.
- Like, every time we had a big fight he injured himself.
- Or how every time we had a major fight or split up my truck broke down and I had to call James to rescue me.
And I interpreted it to mean God was showing us that we needed each other and should stay together.
- I had 3 vehicles stolen in as many years and I found spare transfer and tax forms he had forged my signature on.
- My brake line broke 3 times in 5 years, plus numerous other suspicious mechanical failures.
I totally pushed the thought out of my mind that he was responsible for it all, which would have proven without a shadow of a doubt that this guy was fricken nuts and dangerous!!
We all have free will and we all can choose to interpret answers to our prayers any way we want. When God answers prayers, he does not always give us the answer we want to hear. And if we are honest with ourselves, we don’t need God to give us answers; all we need to do is face the truth that keeps slapping us across the face.