I used to think the term “repentance” was the entire package of what a Christian was to do. Likely because of pop culture political cartoons or caricatures with some sign or caption in them about “repent and be saved!” So, in my mind, repentance meant confession of sins and turning away from sins while accepting Jesus Christ into your life and heart all at the same time.
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My dad said that in his career he saw a pattern. The spouse leaves, and the spouse left behind creates a whole new life. Part of it is a defense against loneliness. Part of it is a way to make time go by faster. But, new jobs, new hobbies, new schedules open the door to new friends, new intimate circles, and more often than people will admit, new lovers or friends of the opposite sex. This creates a whole new life of which the absent spouse is not a part, and when he or she returns, isn’t necessarily welcome.
I was at my parents’ house this weekend, along with my youngest brother and his family and my sister and her family. After church on Sunday, there was a rush to the kitchen to get children fed – all seven of my parents’ grandchildren, four of whom are under the age of four. PB&J’s, hot dogs, tortillas and melted cheese — we quickly had seven hungry children sitting at the table to eat. Then it was the adults’ turn. I dug around my mother’s fridge and came up with a container of pimento cheese.
Two months into my first marriage, my husband quit his job. I had to withdraw plans to start school three weeks later, and we had to pack up and move back to his hometown. That decision he made started a cycle of unemployment/employment that made our marriage very stressful and very hard. Between the financial problems we faced and the addiction problems he faced during our over nine years of marriage, his adulterous affair and our divorce was a relief for me. I was very much over marriage, had no desire to even date, and never intended to be in a relationship with a man again. Six weeks later, I met Gregg.
Pin ItGregg and I were married when he was 34. In those 34 years leading up to meeting me, he had buried his mother, graduated high school, fought in a war, got out of the military, attended three colleges, obtained 30 professional certifications, started a career, gotten married, gotten divorced, and lived another five years dating and working and existing.
Long story short, he’d lived thirty-four years.
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