I am the first to admit I have double standards on my anxiety level when I am late leaving the house. If being late is due to my kids (rarely my husband) not being on time, my internal anxiety meter goes from 1 – 10 within two minutes. After two minutes being late from my designated departure time, I am huffy and feeling disrespected. Rarely do I care about my children’s “excuses”.
The Storm Within
Yet, when I cause us (kids or husband) to leave after a designated departure time, I am as calm as can be. I just needed longer devotion time. Or maybe my last week’s favorite jeans weren’t fitting this week so I struggled to find something to wear. Sometimes I just lost track of time and truly had no justification. But, I am calm and with a huge smile, ignore those who are complaining about my untimeliness.
Last Friday morning I planned to leave at exactly 11:00 a.m. to drive across the state to a women’s conference. I worked extremely diligently the day prior to ensure I was able to leave according to my schedule. I woke up ready and excited.
My boss had another idea about what I should be doing this Friday morning. He added this, that, and another this to my morning list of things to get accomplished. Anxiety hit me hard; how dare he impact my travel plans.
As I text my husband that I am leaving 90 minutes later than planned, he cautions me to be careful with the rain. What! Rain and lateness. My anxiety is in full swing and I haven’t even started the almost six-hour drive.
Two hours into the drive I come to a complete stop on the interstate. Moving at a snail’s pace (and sometimes in park), over an hour later I saw why. Two semi-trucks, family van packed for vacation, and at least three other cars were flipped over and in various positions of destruction in both the left and right lane.
As I drove past the wreck and prayed for the people involved, I thought I heard a reminder: that my time line isn’t always correct. Yet, God’s time line is. Ouch.
There were two more horrific accidents after this one before I got to my destination. My five-and-a-half-hour drive turned into an eight-hour drive. I missed the opening night of the women’s conference.
After I post this blog I’ll probably never remember missing the first night of this women’s conference. But, what I will remember is this: God is in charge of the timeline of my life, not me. And His timeline is always on time. Often not to my liking, but for the good of His people.
Struggling with waiting on God’s time line is something I struggle with almost daily. Through all my years oftransforming from domestic violence victim to survivor, I almost always thought I knew when I was ready to move forward. I thought I always knew when the best time for me to begin the next phase of my recovery was.
Yet, it was often in God’s waiting period that He provided the most character building events for me. It was during those times of waiting, that He prepared and strengthened me for the the next steps in my journey. Without these waiting periods, I surely would have stumbled a lot more in my journey to survivor.
See also "Recovering from domestic violence" and "Abuse Recovery"
Hi, I'm Sue
Welcome to my blog! I served twenty-one honorable years on active duty, living a double life of capability and accomplishment in the service while enduring brutality and abusiveness in my twenty-one year oppressive marriage. Today I'm happily married and have three children who are my inspiration and motivation.
My goal is to help combat the lies of abusers with the truth of God. I hope you find my words to be healing and helpful through your own life experiences.
Being separated from my abusive husband didn't make me a domestic violence survivor. It surely didn't release me from the grip of his brainwashing control and the innate power he had on me.
Read the full raw story in my new book, Rock Bottom and Faithless.