Metamorphosis.

New. Battered. Life. Bruised. Beauty. Rest. Broken. Adventure. Torn. Hope. Steadfast. Fear. Uncertainty. Strength. These words have characterized my life these past few weeks. The turmoil of my soul has burst forth and produced life as unlike I've ever known. Trepidation marks my every step. Wounds (some) heal, only to be ripped open again by the ugliness of reality and others, bleed endlessly. Life as I knew it to be has ended, and a new one has sprung. Faithful readers, I have news to share that has ripped my very being apart; shaken it to its core, though it's been by God's grace that I have not been crushed. Most of you followed my journey on "A Mother's Haven." You saw my family grow in life, love, and ministry. You saw my journey through pregnancy and my joys and struggles in motherhood. You prayed over the ministry God blessed my family with and you laughed at my inevitable quirkiness on more occasions than I wish to admit. But approximately three weeks ago, that world that I'd grown to love and accept was torn asunder. Ripped from my hands, leaving me bleeding and scarred for life. While details won't serve either one of us, I will let you know as best to my ability the events that have prompted a new life, a new beginning...a new blog. On March 27th I packed up the house, packed up my babies, and left my husband for good. I discovered through a chain of events (that I believe the Lord orchestrated) that my husband of almost six years this coming May, had been having affairs on me, both physically as well as emotionally for the past four years of our marriage...among other disturbing details that I should not share. Repentance was hard to come by on his part, as well as true sorrow over his actions. I had no other choice but to remove myself and my kids from a very unhealthy situation that was becoming more unhealthy the longer I stayed. I cannot describe to you the pain this man has caused me, and countless others, and the burden I now bear as a single mom of three beautiful children. I cannot adequately communicate the terrifying apathy my heart feels sometimes. Life as I'd grown to know, and be comfortable in (perhaps too comfortable) has been ripped from me. I've been forced to be independent, strong, and fully functional for my children's sake if not my own, when all I long to do is crawl in my Daddy's lap and weep for what was lost and what's to come. Sometimes the anger is overwhelming both for the accused as well as the accuser. And God has not been left out in my rage, either. My why's are shouted into the wind and taken from me, seemingly unanswered. My tears, though promised to be bottled, seem to pool and suffocate. And my self-esteem, my very nature, has taken such a brutal blow that I wonder if I can ever be the same again, and of course I know I can't. I will never be the same. I will forever bear this scar. This cross. This burden. For I will see it every time I look into my babies eyes. The hurt this has caused them evokes an angry mama bear in me that is poised for attack. I live to protect them now, though I am so beaten down and bruised myself that even my feeble attempts at caring for them seem lost. BUT... if I've learned anything at all thus far from this pain, it is that I am a lot stronger than I gave myself credit for. And I will survive. In God's strength, my children and I will survive. So, my journey has begun anew and I'm inviting you to join me on it. I cannot promise that it won't be ugly-even downright gruesome, but I can promise that there will be beauty somehow. Because that is how God always works.