Making it Through the Storm

A couple of years ago I was on my way home.  My father had just passed away a few days before, and my mom wasn't doing well.  No matter what path I took I was going to have to cross a range of mountains -- which is fine in the summer, but this was January.  For anyone that knows me, knows that I hate to drive in storms.  I feel claustrophobic.  The walls close in around me.  I lose my perspective.   I had been taught too -- there are some canyons that are best avoided when there is a blizzard.  This was one of them.

That's how it was that January night.  I was in a hurry to get home.  My sister called while I was just coming into the state.  Mom was fading.  I wasn't ready to let go.  I stopped for gas, said a prayer about which direction to take.  I wasn't that far into the decision when I wished like anything I had gone the other way.  The snow started coming down heavy.  Before long it was a white out.  I panicked.  

After a long, long while I finally got down off the mountain.  I was beyond anxious to get out of my car.   When I did, what I saw shocked me.  I saw all the sludge and muck that was stuck to my SUV - evidence of the rough time I had just been through.   My marriage has been like that for me.

During the couple of months my husband and I were separated I had a chance to look back at the years with him.  Even though I was away from that marriage mountain, I could still see how I was covered in all the muck and sludge from the trauma I had been through being married to him.

I needed a way to clear all of that off of me.  I needed to see the real me.  I needed to re-set myself and make a plan for how to go forward.  Much like the car wash I sent my SUV through,  I needed a way to shake off all the sludge that was stuck to me.  

Thats what recovery does for me.  Working my steps and digging deep into my journal, blogs and recovery books I am able to begin to wash away the muck. 

It is going to take time.   A lot of time.  I realized that last night during therapy.  The sludge that I waded through and the muck that splashed up on me is thick.  Its deep.  Its painful to remove.   

The blizzard I drove through that January night felt every bit like the blizzard my marriage has gone through.  Its been cold, and dark.  I've been frightened.  I often felt like I would fall.

The only thing I could do that snowy night and the only thing I can do now -- is take one step down the mountain and trust that God will bring me out safely on the other side.

That is the prayer I send heavenward every day -- and especially on counseling days.  Those are a storm all of their own.