“For when we died with Christ we were set free from the power of sin. And since we died with Christ, we know we will also live with him… So you also should consider yourselves to be dead to the power of sin and alive to God through Christ Jesus” (Romans 6:7-8, 11, NLT).
I began to see what I wanted from counseling: freedom and protection—and not necessarily in that order. But what did freedom mean? I sensed it involved letting go to some degree. That part was a little scary. I had learned in life that there’s a fine line between letting go and running away. Even an escape could be dangerous.
When I was young, I had many forms of escape—times when I could forget about the rest of the world. I climbed up into the arms of the willow tree. I went fishing with my dad or played in the log cabin playhouse behind our cabin in the mountains of Montana. I lay on top of my mom’s huge piles of fabric, hidden away from the rest of the world, and read books or whispered secrets with my friend Janet. I played with Barbies for hours in a huge wooden Barbie dollhouse that my grandfather had built. My mom had my dad set it up on an old double bed mattress so my legs wouldn’t get sore from being on the concrete floor. She was a wonderful, thoughtful mom. Even when I delivered calendars with my dad on snowy evenings just before Christmas, I could escape for a few hours. Perhaps the best escapes were the few trips we took as a family when I was young—all except one that went very wrong.
My family traveled across Montana to visit the Lewis and Clark Caverns. I was in middle school at the time and had been allowed to bring along one friend. My parents and I were traveling with one of my sisters, her husband, and their new baby. We had our suburban and a tent for sleeping. The tent was large—large enough that my friend and I shared it with my sister’s family while my mom and dad slept on a mattress in the back of the suburban. It was pretty outgoing of my mother to attempt this camping expedition. She had never been much of a camper. It was exciting for me to try something new with my family. We got to the caverns, and all was well. We traveled through the great caves and explored the underworld, had dinner, and went to bed. In the middle of the night, a great wind storm hit our campsite. Our tent literally blew over. My friend and I were sent to the cinder-block restrooms while the rest of my family got into the suburban. I didn’t like being alone with my friend in the bathroom, but I had no choice. Eventually the wind died down, and my sister came to retrieve us.
The second night took us down further into Montana to the picturesque areas of West Yellowstone and Yellowstone National Park. We traveled through the park and set up camp just outside of West Yellowstone. After the short previous night’s sleep, we were all looking forward to some real shut-eye, as we say in Montana. However, sleep was not to come. In the middle of the night, I heard a strange sound and sat up next to my niece’s playpen. My uncle motioned to be quiet with his finger to his lips, and he held up his shotgun. I was terrified! I heard a low growling noise coming from outside the tent. It became very clear very quickly that we were being inspected by a local grizzly bear.
Just outside our tent was a little cooler which contained my niece’s baby bottle and formula. The bear was thirsty, and it ate not only the formula, but also most of the cooler and bottle. It brushed up against all the sides of our tent. Thinking the centermost part of the tent was the best place to avoid being slashed by his enormous claws, we scrunched up next to the playpen. I cannot say what goes through a child’s mind at a time such as this, but I do remember it was unimaginable terror. I knew I was unprotected. I knew I was not safe! Eventually, the bear moved on.
On our third night, we gave up on camping and stayed in a hotel in West Yellowstone. We learned later on that just two weeks after our close call, a man was mauled to death in the very same campground where we had stayed. That made quite the impression on me.
* * *
As I grew into an adult, my escapes involved running, glasses of wine with friends, books, and eventually trips with my family and friends. One of my favorite escapes was a hike to the summit of what we call Mt. Hakkala in Montana. It is the mountain that is located directly across the lake from our family cabin. We have two family cabins, actually—a mountain cabin from my side of the family and a lake cabin from Russ’s side. Mt. Hakkala has no trail leading to the top, and it is in grizzly country. My insides were like warm jelly as we approached the shore in the boat. We had to park the boat along the shore and tie it up while we hiked up the steep mountain with our best friends, our kids, and their attack dog, Bob. As it turned out, my fear of grizzlies was in full play that day. To say I was on high alert was to put it mildly.
We summited, exhausted but elated. We looked out over the expanse of the lake and the surrounding mountains, and we were reminded of the great beauty of the place we called our second home. It was awesome to see it from a different perspective. On our descent, we encountered a large snapping sound coming from the dense trees. I had counted on Bob the attack dog to protect me or at least alert us to any danger. Instead, he cowered behind me—behind a slim tree. It turned out to be nothing of consequence—probably a moose or an elk—but my feelings of security with Bob were suddenly and totally dashed! Still, we made it down easily and without further incident. Our escape that day had been wonderful, and I was feeling somewhat successful. For the first time since that close call with the grizzly bear back in middle school, I had stepped out of my comfort zone and explored the great outdoors, and I had survived! I loved that I had faced my fears and experienced something amazing for it.
* * *
I went back to counseling to ask the tough why questions and attack my fear of what the word freedom could possibly mean. I sat angrily in my chair, pretty detached—unfeeling except for anger. I had done my homework. I had allowed myself to feel everything I should have felt about my husband’s affair. I had gotten angry about it. I had gotten angry about how he lied to me for ten years. I had gotten angry about him not protecting me. I had gotten angry with my parents for not providing what they couldn’t have provided even if they tried: a safety net. I got angry with God for allowing His child—any child—to be harmed.
At this point, I was feeling very vulnerable. I felt like I was at the breaking point again, yet so much time had gone by. I couldn’t believe the depth of my anger. As we talked through these questions and explored my internal fury, I realized I was also sad. I was really sad. I could label another emotion. I was overcome with sorrow. My pastor/counselor talked about Job in the Bible. He had been an innocent one. He had been like an innocent child, yet he lost everything. He suffered at the hands of Satan, yet his closest friends told him his loss must have been as a result of some sin—his fault somehow. This sounded vaguely familiar.
In the case of child sexual abuse, I knew the logic: “You were an innocent child. You didn’t know any better. You couldn’t control it. You didn’t deserve it. You weren’t bad. You were helpless.” However, I felt like there was always something I had done to bring it on myself. I felt like I was somehow responsible. I had owned it. Like Job’s friends, I had always pointed the finger at myself.
My counselor then asked if I was ready to accept that the man I had been involved with was in fact a wolf—wolf number five. I saw that I had to accept it. He had pursued. Yes, I was an adult. I was capable of turning away from him, and I hadn’t. He saw my vulnerability; I was weak prey. He had remained present and available. He had shown up at my door at opportune times (with huckleberry martinis when he knew I had not eaten anything). He had used convincing words—told me he had fallen and was in deep. He forced me to say the words “I love you” just to hear me say them. He had enveloped and enticed me when I was at my weakest. He had not listened to me when I shared that he would be the cause of destroying everything I loved and cherished. He was sly and persistent. He did not use claws or fangs but words, songs, and stories. Not caring that it would kill me in the end, he drew me in purely for his own pleasures. Even now when writing it, it is difficult to accept.
For some people, it is easy and plain to see. For others, it will not be. I am not casting blame. I am not weaseling out of my responsibility. I had behaved as a wolf myself! It is and was wrong. It was sin. What I had to learn is that it was a shared responsibility. Sure, I had played a huge part in it, but I cannot own his part. I cannot own all of it.
The painful reality is that there are men and women in this world who will not take care of our hearts. They do not seek God’s will. They seek their own way. They may never seek God’s will or His heart. They are wolves. They care for themselves. They are lost. They can destroy others if they are allowed. Some actually seek out the lost. Some are only aware of their own insatiable needs. Much like addicts, they put their own needs ahead of what God would call them to do or be. I am not casting judgment. It is not a matter of judgment, but of one’s own heart and one’s own relationship with Christ. The relationship with Christ is either there or it isn’t—black and white.
Wolf number five, as I am comfortable writing now, acted in a way that God did not design, and Rick did not turn from it. I turned from what I knew was wrong. I chose not to stay a wolf. I chose to cease my pattern of destructive behavior. I chose God even when it meant accepting that God allowed painful, awful events to take place in my life—even when it meant I may never have answers to my questions about why those events had to take place until I get to heaven—even then.
My friend, Janet, gave me a book at this point in my counseling about another woman who had been beaten and raped repeatedly by her own father in Afghanistan. Her story was brutal. It was heart-wrenching and painful to read, yet it helped me to hear it. I saw how much worse my own life could have been. I saw that she had survived. I saw glimpses of hope in her story. I saw how God can allow everything we hold dear to disappear so that all we have is Him. We can just sit at His feet and then truly know Him. But what did it mean to know Him? Could I really know an invisible God? Would there be any joy in that—any redemption? I came across John 10:10 in the context of a book that I was reading for a women’s study during this time. I thought a lot about what it meant to have life and have it to the full. When would I feel that full life? I wanted to experience the grace, peace, and knowledge of Him even more. Our counseling sessions were bringing it home. Russ started to attend with me.
At first, Russ was reluctant to open up about his anger. He felt he was there to help me. At first, that made me angry. I wasn’t the only one with a problem, after all! He just felt like I was the only one still struggling. I tried to be gentle and point out areas in which his anger had risen to the surface. His anger would cause me to shrink—not only shrink, but also shrivel internally. I couldn’t function with it. I longed for him to be completely free. I felt like he had forgiven this man in word but not in heart. I wanted to get to the place where I would know he wouldn’t come uncorked in a room if this man was present. I wanted Russ to be free to forgive and to practice what Jesus had commanded: “love your neighbor.” I wanted for him what I was beginning to have myself.
We talked about what that meant. It was not about welcoming Rick back in our home, as he was still an unsafe person. It was more about Russ’s heart. Could he pray for this man? Could he love him? Could he do this? Could he make the choice to allow God to transform him? Russ alone could never do it. But I felt that if he could make the choice to ask God to change his heart, we might stand a real chance at getting past this. If not, it could mean a long, bumpy road.
It’s important to me to point out that despite everything that happened, whether or not I came through the marital storm with Russ as my husband or not, I knew I’d come through it with the best thing—my one true love, Jesus. I knew by this point that He was my only source of protection, freedom, and true salvation. But I desperately longed for healing in my marriage and for Russ to experience the love and healing I was receiving from the Lord.
Our counselor was kind enough to point out several areas in which we could both stand some redirection. We went back to Romans and Matthew in the Bible. We looked at freedom from sin. We looked at what the kingdom is. The counselor asked us to figure that out. What is the kingdom? We looked at my rule-following aptitude. I ranked high on that test but low on the heart/application survey. This was real, radical, crazy stuff! I had been through my Jesus-freak stage already in my twenties. I didn’t want to go there again. It hadn’t worked out so well. The counselor kept pushing us, finally asking, “What does Paul mean in Romans when he says to consider yourselves dead to sin?” (Romans 6:11) It was a heavy question with a heavy discussion. It was a lot to digest. I felt like I had just eaten a huge meal, and it was time to lie down and go to sleep.
* * *
I had a dream right around this time where all I could hear were the words from the end of John 10:10: “I have come that you may have life, and have it to the full.” In my dream, I was running through a glistening field of wheat. The kernels of wheat were full and the tips feathery on my fingertips. I had long hair, curly and golden, similar to what it had been when I was young. I was wearing a white dress and running through the wheat, letting my fingertips brush over the tops of the wheat. I was laughing, and the sun was shining. I danced, and the white flowers in my hair stayed in place! All was right in this world. It was a good dream. I woke up with the words still running through my head and heart. It was so good that I lay in our bed, wondering, Is this how God sees me? Is this the life I am meant to have? It was so good, I rolled over and woke Russ. I was crying happy tears.
I didn’t tell him about the dream, but I told Russ I wondered how God really sees me. I told him I wanted to know. Was it a beautiful picture, or was it the way I had always felt? Was it the picture of me always needing to stand in the creek and scrub off the years of dirt? Russ began talking and shared what he felt God’s vision of me was. He shared almost verbatim what had been in my dream, including the wheat, the sun, the flowers in my hair, the white dress, and me running and dancing. The tears came down. They still do. I finally felt like I had my answer. God had spoken directly to me through the heart of my husband, who was also trying to know Him.
It may sound generic. But in that moment, the words Russ used were very close to my dream. How else could he have known those details if it wasn’t for God? They were images I had never shared with Russ. It was a tangible way for God to reach me. I wanted that full life. I wanted God to show me everything about Him. I wanted His kingdom, but I wanted more than some escape. I wanted to live in the reality of it. I read that the kingdom of God is a place in which God’s Word has full sway. Yes, that’s what I wanted. Surely there was freedom and protection there. I walked out into that new day thinking about what that meant.
Praise You, Father. Open up Your gates! What was lost has been found. Sing a new song!
Comfort
“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,[a] neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38-39, NIV).
Discussion Questions
1. Is there anything we can hide from God? Read Psalm 139.
2. Are we ever justified in our lack of forgiveness of others? Who deserves to be condemned? See Matthew 7:15. What happens to us when we choose not to forgive? Is it possible to forgive? Read Colossians 3:5-15. Reflect also on what you have already learned about forgiveness in previous chapters. Is God calling you to action? Do you need to forgive someone?
3. What is the kingdom? Read John 3:3-5, Luke 17:20-32, and John 18:33-36.
4. Have you ever had a moment in which you felt God spoke to you directly? Are you comfortable in sharing it? How does that impact you today?
5. Are you able to memorize Scripture? Is it important? Is it a rule?
6. What does the law do for us? Can we follow it? What was it meant for? Refer to Romans 7.
7. Do you agree with the definition of the wolf? Who can be one? Have you been one? Are you one now?