I Will Sleep Alone and It’s OK

A sleeping statue
Sleeping alone - notice her contentment

Sleeping Alone Then

I will sleep alone in my bed tonight. The thought of that once frightened me. Alone? Really?? How could he have left me alone? We had young children, and I loved him. He meant the world to me. I would have done (and often did do) anything for him. He was everything to me.

How could I ever learn to sleep alone? There was a hole in my heart, in my mind, in my soul. It was as if entire chunks of me had been ripped away and I had been left raw, bleeding, wounded, and…alone. There were many nights I swore I’d never be able to sleep again.

Who was this stranger?  Where was the man who gave me strength? Who provided me with security and protection? Who validated who I was? I was no longer wife and mother. I was simply mother – half of me had been disposed of mercilessly.

I will never forget that constant state of wanting to vomit or the violent shaking I could not stop and often could not hide.

Who was I to be? What was to become of me? How could I ever provide for my children – emotionally, physically, mentally, academically, financially, spiritually? What was to become of us?

Sleeping Alone Now

I cannot honestly say I have recovered fully. Three years later, and I know I will never “get over” the wounds of being abandoned suddenly or being told that I was unlovable or that there was “someone else.” The pain is unimaginable, but as I get ready for bed tonight I am appreciating the difference between sleeping alone in my bed then and sleeping alone in my bed now and how far my children and I have come.

Usually, at least one little body kicks me in the ribs, flip flopping side to side all night. Often there are two little guys in my bed and a third on the floor. Sometimes even my big guys have the urge to check in on me just one more time before actually trekking to their own beds, but tonight they are visiting their father for the weekend. Tonight I am alone and, surprisingly, grateful for this time.

Tonight, I will lay my head on my pillow. I will say prayers for my five boys, two of whom are headed nicely off toward manhood. I will have faith that the younger three will follow. I will wish they were here under my roof, but I will have faith. I will kiss each finger and blow those kisses in my boys’ direction. I will have faith that they will be okay. I will enjoy the few peaceful moments of solitude. I will feel the pride of knowing I have pushed myself and my children to do things I never would have thought us capable of, and that we are passing with flying colors and that we are not and have never been – alone.

I will be proud that the Lord has chosen to work in my life and to truly make beauty from ashes. To take the mistakes I have made and to deliver us from them. Thank you Lord. Amen.

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He has sent me to bring glad tidings to the lowly, to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to captives, and to release prisoners…to place on those who mourn in Zion a diadem (beautiful crown/tiara) instead of ashes, to give them oil of gladness in place of mourning, a glorious mantle in place of a listless spirit. Isaiah 61:1-3

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