Every morning and every night.
I think I did miss one night because I fell asleep when I was really sick, but I think that’s been my only slip up.
Every morning and every night, the husband gets a text from me that tells him that he’s special and that he’s loved.
Somedays he gets the text even if he’s been awful to me, and other days he gets the text if the last thing I want to do is tell him he’s special. Because there are a lot of days he doesn’t act special.
But, it’s something that I feel like I’m supposed to do. And not because I’m being clingy or needy or holy.
But because I want him to know he’s special. And loved no matter what he’s done.
Plain and simple.
I texted him the first time with that message the night he left me. I can’t remember my motives that particular night, probably passive begging for him to come home. But, for whatever reason, I sent another the next morning. And then that night. And so on. For almost 5 months now.
Sometimes he texts back. Sometimes he doesn’t.
But I can’t make myself not send them. I’ve tried.
Just a few days ago, I thought I had had enough of this whole watching and waiting thing. I was ready to check out and move on. I had decided that I would stop my texts cold turkey, and that, among other things, would cause him to realize that I was done. That he wasn’t going to get to continue to feast at the table of adultery, while resting easily on a pillow of knowing I’d always be around.
But nighttime came and my hands grabbed my phone and a text was sent before I knew what I’d done.
Same thing happened the next morning.
So I prayed about it and begged God to guide me. Pleaded, really. Because I, in no way, wanted the whole texting thing to become about me and something I needed to do.
I neither received any Scripture reference to texting an infidel nor writing on the wall pointing me in either direction; I just felt like it was okay to text him that night. And so I did. And again the next morning. And on and on. And I texted him this morning, too.
Hope you have a good day. I love you.
That’s it. Nothing flowery or profound. Sometimes I tell him that I’m praying for him. Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I tell him that I miss him. Sometimes I don’t.
I don’t know what he thinks when he reads them. He may think I’m a crazy stalker. He may secretly love getting them. He may dread them. He may look forward to them and wait for them. I don’t know.
But I think I’m supposed to keep sending them.
Because it’s important to know that you are loved and that you are special. That your sin and faults don’t dictate your specialness to someone who loves you unconditionally. That no matter how badly you hurt someone that loves you so much, they don’t quit on you.
I can, with almost 100% certainty, say that the husband isn’t in the Word right now. I, however, am blessed to be. So I only have to open the pages of Scripture and set my mind on the Lord to remind myself of my worth and beauty. He’s not taking hold of that privilege right now. So, if I can serve to be a reminder of unconditional love (not only mine, but Christ’s), then so be it.
I continue to have days that I feel like dirt. Like trash. That I wasn’t worth enough to fight for, so it was easier and better to just trade me in and set me out for garbage. It’s not an easy feeling to go to sleep swallowing. Let alone wake up the next day facing.
What I don’t want is for my husband to ever feel that way. No matter what he does, he matters to me. And I don’t want him to ever feel like he’s trash or not worth the fight.
[Insert lectures on boundaries and criticisms about making things too easy for him here.] I get it. Nine out of ten people probably disagree with what I’m doing. And, like I said, I wanted to stop, too. It does seem like he gets the best of both worlds. He doesn’t have to know what it’s like to do without my love, because I continue to give it freely. Again, I get it.
But, just as I said before, my hand continues to reach for the phone to do it. I’ve prayed against it, because it’s not easy or comfortable for me. And yet still, the texts log.
Because maybe it’s important to him. And it is making a difference for him. I don’t know what God is doing in his heart and mind (and that drives me crazy, because I want to know!!), but maybe my text messages are being used for a greater purpose. Or maybe they aren’t.
But, for now, all I know is that the texts will probably keep being sent. Morning and night. Like clockwork. Until God tells me otherwise.
Because he matters.
And he needs to know it.
[This is for me. It may not be for you. If you’re the victim of infidelity, God may not lead you to wait and watch and send text messages. I would never question your stance on handling your spouse in an adultery-victim situation. We’re all different and called differently. Waiting just happens to be what God has called me to do. It’s not easy nor fun, but it’s what stares back at in the mirror right now. Please don’t judge yourself or me based on what God asks the other of us to do. And if you have never suffered at the hands of adultery, please don’t lay judgement at the feet of those of us who have. Survival takes many shapes and colors, and if there were a cookie cutter formula then we wouldn’t be facing this epidemic in the first place.]