It's All About Him (13 page)

Each week our group would dig into sections of the Bible that focused on freedom. We'd talk about our struggles and the things that held us to earth and bound us tight. Then we'd sit in that circle, hold hands, and pray.

I hadn't grown up praying out loud in a setting like this. It felt weird and uncomfortable at first. So did the practice of talking with others about my thoughts and feelings. But I'd always been an eager student, and the academic part of me loved studying the Bible and answering questions in the study guide. I had been spiritually dry for so long that I was dying for truth. I was so thirsty and hungry for God, and I could taste His presence in this little circle of women who loved Him too. So I became more and more free to be the real me—even as I was discovering who the real me really was!

I often broke down in tears during our sharing time. I didn't dish dirt on Alan or tell the others all the particulars of what I was going through, but in that circle of friends, I felt safe to show my hurting heart and know that all of them would treat it tenderly. They cared for me and encouraged me, and I tried to do the same for them.

But this wasn't just a support group, wonderful as such groups can be. Most importantly, the women there shared a common commitment to God. They knew
He
was the only One who could truly help any of us, because only God had the supernatural power to change us. We weren't just focused on each other; we were all focused on Him, and as we learned more about Him and drew closer to Him, we drew closer to one another as well.

Lifeline

I'd had lots of friends and acquaintances, but I hadn't had really close girlfriends for many years. I grew to know and love these friends on a deeper level. They weren't part of the country music world; their husbands were real estate developers, physical therapists, and businessmen. It was casual; no one made anything over me or the situation I was in. But these sisters were rock-solid there for me. They loved me, cried and laughed with me, and pleaded with God to restore my marriage and shower His love on me.

Liz was the youngest in our group, full of life, always with a dramatic tale to tell about her cat, her dogs, or a family member. Her brown eyes sparkled when she shared her stories with us. But Liz had been through deep waters; her husband, a young NASCAR driver, had been killed in a helicopter accident a few years earlier.

In the aftermath of that tragedy, Liz had moved to Nashville with her two young children. As she healed from her horrible loss, and found new strength in her relationship with God, we all prayed that Liz would meet a godly man who would love her children. A few years later, God answered those prayers in the form of a wonderful man who loved God, cherished Liz, and was crazy about Liz's children. They married and went on to have a child.

Beth was a very petite friend with a big heart and an infectious laugh. We joked about her small size: “How can her organs all fit in that teeny-tiny frame?” She was always doing things for other people, and was and is an extremely loyal friend. Our group has prayed with her through many family illnesses and supported her as she faithfully stood by her best friend, whose lengthy battle with cancer finally took her life.

Joy had such a love for the Lord and a deep knowledge of the Bible. She had a dry, self-deprecating sense of humor that always made us laugh. As we danced on the edge of middle age, she was the first of us to break out the reading glasses, and we all relished giving her a hard time about it. We also prayed in tears with her when her husband died in a private plane accident and stood by her at the funerals of each of her parents. We have watched her faith grow through these difficult times.

Kim was the one we could always count on. She continues to be one of my closest friends today. She would pick up any of our kids if we were running late to get them at school. She was the first person we could call if an emergency came up. Our group encouraged her as her husband went through various career challenges in a demanding business. Her faith has been a shining example for all of us.

The second Beth in our group was bubbly, with a blonde, bobbed haircut. She always had a smile on her face and would tell hilarious stories about living in an all-male house with three rambunctious boys and her husband. It was an unwritten rule that on her birthday and Christmas, we showered her with everything pink. With her husband traveling most of the time with his job, she was a wonderful example of strength as she managed her lively household.

As I spent time with these women, in church and in the Sunday school class, I was also studying the Bible. Much of it was familiar, as it is to those of us who grew up in a Southern Baptist church.As a young girl in Sunday school, I'd memorized all the right verses and excelled at “sword drills”—contests to see who could find particular verses of Scripture in the least amount of time.

But now the Scripture wasn't just a matter of knowing the right rote answers. It was coming alive for me in a brand-new way. I was beginning to see it as a love story about how God had loved people from the very beginnings of time. He had so loved all of us that He actually made a way for our sins to be washed clean and our souls to be set free, through Jesus. That wasn't just a one-time understanding at age twelve or whenever one walked the aisle to publicly acknowledge one's faith. It was a day-to-day, living reality.

I was also beginning to see that this Gospel was all about grace—the undeserved favor we receive from God— not about our performance. It didn't matter how good I'd been or how lovely I looked: God loved me with a wild, intimate, overwhelming love just because He did . . . not because of anything I did. Even as my heart was like a big bruise inside of me because of Alan's leaving, I was beginning to hear the chords of a new song, a song I'd never heard before, a sweet whisper that was telling me all would be well.

EVEN AS MY HEART WAS LIKE A BIG BRUISE INSIDE OF ME BECAUSE OF ALAN'S LEAVING, I WAS BEGINNING TO HEAR THE CHORDS OF A NEW SONG, A SONG I'D NEVER HEARD BEFORE, A SWEET WHISPER THAT WAS TELLING ME ALL WOULD BE WELL.

Still, though, at that point it was just a whisper.

A Bigger Prayer

One day after Sunday school was over, I sought out the teacher. Robert Wolgemuth was in the publishing industry, a compassionate man with a deep knowledge of the Scriptures and a mellow, soothing voice. His beautiful wife, Bobbie, bubbled with the love of God. We found a quiet corner in the back of the big room, and I told them exactly what my problem was . . . or so I thought.

“I'm Alan Jackson's wife,” I began. “We're separated. Could you pray with me that he would come back?”

The Wolgemuths weren't part of the country music world, and had to ask someone later who Alan Jackson was, but they put their arms around me. Bobbie's expressive face was full of compassion, and Robert prayed for God's love to flow over me.

Over the next few weeks, Bobbie would seek me out at Sunday school.

“How are you doing?” she would ask, and I knew she really cared.

“Please keep praying,” I'd say. “Pray that Alan will come back!”

By this point Bobbie felt comfortable enough with me to be very straightforward.

“Denise,” she said,“we love you and we are so
for
you. But we need to pray a different prayer. A
bigger
prayer. We need to pray not that Alan will come back, but that you will be the woman God is calling you to be. Of course we want Alan to come back. But that's secondary. The first thing right now is that you seek God with all your heart. My prayer will be that God will show you what incredible love He has for you.”

I knew that Bobbie was right, and just about half of me was willing to pray that prayer. The other half of me just wanted Alan back. Period.

But I found out a great thing about God. He doesn't require that we become
completely
willing. He doesn't wait until our faith or our motives are absolutely pure and perfect. If He did, He'd wait forever, and while He has the time to do so, we don't. He took my small surrenders, my little steps of willingness, and began to do little miracles with them.

It's like the story of the boy in the New Testament who suffered from epilepsy.
²
His father brought him to Jesus. By this point the boy was probably a young man; the father had gone through many long years of heartbreak and frustration.

Convulsing, the boy foamed at the mouth and rolled on the ground, his arms flailing.

“How long has he been like this?” Jesus asked the father.

“From childhood,” said the father. “But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us.”

“ ‘
If you can'?
” Jesus repeated. “Everything is possible for him who believes.”

I can't imagine the horrible pressure the father felt at that point. Was Jesus saying that his son's healing depended on how much faith he had? There was no way he could rack up enough “belief” to score a healing.His heart constricted, and his years of pain and fear overflowed.

“I do believe!” he shouted to Jesus. “Help me overcome my unbelief!”

And Jesus healed his son.

I love that story because of the father's raw honesty, and Jesus' response to it. So I prayed my own version of the father's words.

“O Lord,” I'd say, “I am willing for You to change me. And please help me overcome my
un
willingness!”

After a lifetime of trying to be “perfect” in so many ways, suffering from the “disease to please,” it was healing to realize that I didn't have to have perfect faith! I could admit my insufficiency and ask God for what I needed. And I was beginning to believe that He would give it to me.

So I prayed, stiffly at first, and then more and more passionately, that God would give me the desire to change. I prayed that He would shape me into the unique person He had created me to be. I desperately wanted Alan back, of course. And part of me was constantly trying to figure out how to fix our marriage, fix myself, control the whole thing, and make Alan return. My thoughts were sometimes like a little gerbil, running in place on an endless, squeaky wheel.

PART OF ME WAS CONSTANTLY TRYING TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO FIX OUR MARRIAGE, FIX MYSELF, CONTROL THE WHOLE THING, AND MAKE ALAN RETURN. MY THOUGHTS WERE SOMETIMES LIKE A LITTLE GERBIL, RUNNING IN PLACE ON AN ENDLESS, SQUEAKY WHEEL.

Meanwhile, my friends were praying. Bobbie and Robert were praying. And I, with a faltering heart but a little shred of faith, was praying that God would give me the will to want His will. No matter what.

So maybe I shouldn't have been surprised when those prayers were answered, right in the middle of a routine morning.

Surrender!

I was driving the girls to school, not really listening while they were jabbering with each other in the backseat. My mind was a whirl, as usual. I dropped them off, blew kisses and waved goodbye, and talked out loud to God.

“Okay, Lord,” I cried. “I am so tired! I can't manage this situation. I can't control what happens or doesn't happen in my marriage. I can't make Alan come back. I can't believe it's Your will that our family break up. But I can't take this anymore!”

In that moment, I totally turned my eyes toward Jesus.

“I give up!” I sobbed. “I give in! I know You'll take care of me; I am letting go of it all, and You'll just have to get me through.”

I sobbed and drove home to my empty mansion. It was the first time in my life that I had
completely
let go of
my
will. I relinquished my desires. My need to try to cling to Alan at all costs. I totally let go and gave it all to God. It was the first time I had actually trusted Him to totally run my life, no matter what the outcome.

No angels danced on my dashboard. No rays of light shone through my giant diamond to make a rainbow of hope on my windshield. But for the first time, I had a tiny, sure sense of real peace.
Peace
. . . in spite of my circumstances. It was like there was a connection between heaven and earth in that otherwise ordinary moment.

It's odd: I would never have chosen to go through the pain of those awful days, but through it, God got my attention. I had been skimming along on the surface of my fairy-tale life, ignoring the fact that Jesus was softly and tenderly calling me to come home to Him. I'd closed my eyes to any warnings that a storm was coming in my marriage.

Once that storm broke my heart wide open, though, I finally cried out to God. I heard His voice. I felt His love. And I realized that Alan was never designed to be the center of my life. No human being could fill that place. Christ alone could truly be my all-in-all.

Chapter 15
PRAYING NEW PRAYERS

This is what the LORD says—he who made a way through the sea,
a path through the mighty waters . . .
“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.”