Lesson #58: A Commitment is a Commitment is a Commitment

I'm not even sure where to begin.  If The Sound of Music has taught me anything, it's that the beginning is a very good place to start, so I'll start there.  Be warned, this is a long post.


On Thursday, February 21st, I was fully enjoying Snowpocalypse, 2013.  I was able to come home early from work, was guaranteed a snow day the next day, and was ready to waste some time doing nothing.  I was hanging out with the dog when Lyndon walked over and sat by me.  The first words out of his mouth were, "I'm being blackmailed."  Honestly, I thought he was joking about something light-hearted when he said that.  He went on and told me that he had exposed himself to someone during a video chat.  That woman recorded it and was now asking for $300.  If Lyndon didn't comply, she'd send the video to all of his Facebook friends.  He couldn't handle dealing with it on his own anymore, so he decided to confess and ask for help.


I could barely breathe.  My body and my mind felt like they were shutting down because turning off was better than dealing with what I'd just been told.  Tears started and didn't stop for hours as darkness invaded all of me.  I vehemently refused to help him out of the situation because he was the one who'd made the mistake in the first place.  That's not exactly what I said.  It was more of a garbled mumbling because I couldn't talk over the crying.


Lyndon left for work, and what little resolve I had to keep myself together, vanished.  I desperately wanted to leave my apartment behind, but Snowpocalypse was falling all around me.  It took me all of five minutes to realize that it was too dangerous for me to be by myself, so I called the first person I wanted to talk to: my mom.  She was patient as I tried to form words and recount what had just happened.  She calmly told me to pack up what I needed while I waited for her and my dad to come get me.


I spent the next five days at my parents' house, avoiding contact with as many people as possible.  Both my sisters and my parents did an incredible job at not asking questions.  They listened when I talked, but apart from that, they spent their time keeping my head above water.  I will never be able to thank them enough for the crucial roles they played in those few days.


Lyndon and I continued to talk over these five days, and he confessed to much more.  Porn had entered his life at the tender age of 12, and by the time he met me, he was too far gone to stop.  He continued on that path after we were married.  He also told me about another woman.  Every confession, every single thing he told me threw me deeper into despair and a darkness that was present in every minute of every day.


That following Tuesday, I had planned to stop at our apartment while he was gone to pick up a few things.  I sat down on the couch for a minute and felt overcome by the Holy Spirit. I was being told that I could not get off the couch until I agreed to stay and wait for Lyndon.  I cried and cried, asking to just be released because I couldn't handle seeing him.  God waited.  When I finally said I would wait for him, I was able to get off the couch.


Tuesday the 26th also happened to be Lyndon's birthday, and he had gotten to the point of suicidal thoughts over what he'd done.  He knew I was waiting for him at home, so he sat in his car for at least a half hour after arriving.  Not knowing whether I would actually talk to him or if I would leave again, he couldn't bring himself to come inside.  Without realizing what was happening, however, God carried him in to me.  After a lot of tears and hours of talking, I decided to move back home that night.  It was absolutely divine intervention that brought us together that day, and it terrifies me to think of what state we'd be in had neither of us let God take control.


Since that fateful Thursday, there have been immediate changes.  Lyndon has been transferred to a store that's much closer and now works hours that coincide with mine.  He purchased encouraging music to listen to and books that he's started reading.  He has found someone to meet with and talk to.  We have a program set up on his computer that informs me and three others when inappropriate sites are visited.  We've started a Bible study together.  His attitude towards me has done a 180, and the way we interact with each other is completely different.


There are good days.  There are bad days.  There are good parts of days, and there are bad parts of days.  We're facing each of those days together.


I am still hurt.

I am still broken.

I am still unable to forgive him.

I am still in love with him.


The day after he first told me, I took off my wedding ring to shower.  When it came time to put it back on, I couldn't do it.  It felt like he didn't mean anything he said the day he gave me that ring.  I've since put it back on.  I still don't know what to think about our wedding day and what he said, but I know I meant every word.  After all, a commitment is a commitment is a commitment.