Healing your marriage when trust is broken.

“Healing Your Marriage when Trust is Broken: Finding Forgiveness and Restoration”

Quite a book title, eh?

You should get to know the author, Cindy Beall.

The story that Cindy shares has proven to me that trust after infidelity is possible. She shows how much time and work it takes, but in the open the pages of her open book, she holds her life before readers in the hopes that theirs will turn out whole and well and peaceful.

Throughout her story, Cindy weaves scripture, reflection questions, and snapshots of other couples’ experiences as well. As an added bonus, she sprinkled in a bit of her own humor and wit:

  • “I turned 40 years old in 2010. Just seeing that fact in writing kind of makes my back hurt.”

Lines like that one show that Cindy’s heart and soul are restored along with her marriage. She regained her love for life and laughter, and she regained her love for her husband. Thankfully, she feels passionate about bringing this restoration to marriages when trust is broken.

And she’s painfully honest about the process:

  • “It was very confusing to love and hate my husband at the same time.”
  • “…a mental battle is going on inside me as I strive to trust my husband more every day. I engage in this battle on a regular basis, and it can be exhausting.”

This book is a powerful tool to be placed in the hands of those who are fighting to keep their marriage together. It’s also a compassionate example for those who are wondering if trust is possible anymore.

Order the book here.

Find Cindy’s Blog here.

Endless and effortless collaboration on the story of life…

There are words.

And sentences.

And paragraphs.

And pages.

And chapters of our story…

that are written by us.

Read carefully, and we will see that the pen of someone else’s hand is putting many words in place–especially key moments of drastic shift and change.

Their handwriting, their fingerprints, their influence are all over our pages.

And, while we think we are writing our own story without consequence to others, we are actually shifting and changing and writing theirs as well. Our handwriting and fingerprints and influence are all over their pages.

Art begets art. Life begets life. Story begets story. It’s impossible to live a silent and impact-free life. And it’s impossible not to be impacted by others. Life is one big collaboration. The story will go well for us if we keep an open mindset of cooperation.

I woke up re-reading the current page of my life–with relationships and phone calls and prayers and ideas that shift and turn my story. I feel both powerful and powerless, at the same time.

But one thing I’m thankful for, I’ve got a few great writers in my life. And I want their words on my pages.

Do you have any great writers in your life? And are you giving them room to write some of your story? And who’s story are you helping write right now?

Great art rarely happens by accident. And neither do great stories.

 

It’s not “if” you fight, but “how” you fight.

Drew says that he’d be more worried about our marriage if we didn’t disagree at all. Interesting point. He, and others, really believe that a healthy relationships comes with some conflict. No two people are alike, which means that we will at times disagree with one another.

The secret is in “how” we disagree.

I’ll never forget that day, in my driveway, sitting in his red Honda, and he says that he wants us to learn to fight well. I cringed inwardly. I hate conflict. I want to avoid it altogether. But Drew wanted to make sure that we knew how to have good healthy disagreements.

I’m learning that there are some benefits to disagreements. We have an opportunity to learn more about the other person (who was, thank God, created differently from us), we also get to share parts of ourselves that might not otherwise be exposed. We get to bend and compromise and work as a team towards a shared goal of collaboration and mutual compromise.

And, most importantly, we get to love each other despite our differences.

But, we seem to have distorted views of conflict.

But we need not mistake disagreement for rejection. Or anger for rejection. Or see conflict as a threat of rejection. Its possible for two loving, healthy individuals to disagree on foundational points of life.

Drew likes hanging out with people. I like chilling in the quiet of my home. (surprise)

Drew’s more reformed in his theology. I’m holding my ground as an Arminian. (gasp)

And we still get along. And I still value and respect his pastoral leadership. And his role as my husband.

See? Love reaches over differences, grabs the hand of the person who’s brain is an absolute mystery to us, and says “Even though I think you are weird, let’s still walk together.”

Now go hug somebody today. And tell ‘em that even though they’re weird, you still love ‘em.

(or something like that)

Do I know you? Do you know me?

It’s early on Sunday morning. Early. I’m talking pre-gotta-be-at-church-at-7:30am early. And I’m sipping my coffee and reading the most brilliant chapter of Anne Lamott my eyes have ever seen.

And I look up on the bookshelf and I see Pete Wilson’s “Plan B” sitting there. And the green of the cover perfectly matches the green of the kitchen wall and I imagine myself telling someone about this book: “I know him.”

Wait.

Then the brain stops. And the self-awareness kicks in and says “Really? Are you sure? Because according to reality, you’ve never actually met him.”

To reason with myself (because this is what all sane people do) (right?), I thought through how I’d have to qualify my knowing of him and frame it in the world of social media and all that blah blah. And then I just wondered: Do I know him? According to the world’s standards, could I actually say that?

And the brain continued to inquire: Do I know all these other people that I have contact with through the internet? Or better yet, do they know me?

To the last question, I’d answer yes. I’d say you know me. Not like my mom knows me, or Drew knows me, or the BFF knows me. But, yeah, you know my personality and likes and interests and some of my thoughts. In the self-aware corners of my brain, I know that what I say here is a pretty accurate representation of myself. Sure, it’s not the whole picture, but it’s enough of the picture for you to recognize the in-real-life-me if you ever stumbled upon me in an airport or at a conference. And enough for us to strike up some legit conversation right there on the spot.

At least that’s how I see it.

But how do you see it? How do you see the world of social media interaction and your experience of reading this-here blog?

  1. Do you know me?
  2. Do I know you?