According to Webster's Dictionary, the word 'redeem' means "to free from the consequences of sin." Although, it was not my sin, I still desperately need to be freed of the consequences.

"Redeemed women of God have tender merciful hearts, backbones of steel, and hands that are prepared for the fight." - Staci Elderidge

"Even though my heart has been broken at times, I want to retain a tender merciful heart- the kind of heart that is vulnerable, open to all emotions, and engaged in honest, intimate relationships. If my heart is hardened, no matter the cause, I cannot live to my fullest potential.

By setting and holding emotional, physical and spiritual boundaries and standing up with courageous determination to what I know to be right, I continue to forge my backbone of steel.

As women, I believe we want to fight against evil, and we have power greater than we've ever imagined to aid us in that fight."
- Rhyll Croshaw

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

The Bomb

The man takes his time to gather the materials he is looking for...  He gathers wire, nails and bolts, an old cell phone and explosive materials.  He retreats to the quiet and seclusion of his basement and secretly and stealthily assembles his bomb.  He packs it in his back pack and carries it back upstairs.  Through the house.  Into the kitchen.  He has it on his back as he kisses his wife.  He has it on his back as he plays catch with his sons in the front yard.  He has it on his back as he rocks his baby girl to sleep.

One thing is for sure: at some point, the bomb WILL explode.

And if we are too close, we will be collateral damage.  

But, we have been blessed with an innate ability.  You can call it gut, instinct, the Spirit or the Gift of the Holy Ghost.  Whatever you call it, it works the same.  We can sense the bomb.  We can smell it in the pungent aroma that lingers as he kisses us.  We can hear it in the lies that come out of his mouth.  We can feel it in his awkward embrace.  We can see it exhibited in his discomfort of his behaviors.  

We know that the blast can hurt us, possibly even kill us.  And it's coming...

We know that the only way to protect ourselves is to detach.  We have to detach from the bomb.

If the man removes the bomb and takes it far far away to the open field and leaves it there, we will all be fine.  We will all be safe.  But, we can't make him remove the bomb.  Only he can choose to remove the bomb.  

We see him remove the bomb with kind actions.  We hear him remove the bomb with full and honest disclosures.  We can witness a glimmer of safety when he runs like mad to that open field.  We can feel our safety return we he leaves it there and runs like never before back to us.

But, only he can choose to take it to the field.  

So, in the meantime, every time we see the back pack, we detach.  We move ourselves and our kids FAR FAR away from the danger of the bomb.  

It's hard.  We love the man.
It's scary.  He could get hurt.
But, our first priority is to keep ourselves and our children safe.
The man is holding the bomb.

It's traumatic.  Every time we see even an empty back pack, it sparks fear in our hearts.  What if that's the one that could kill us?  We feel like we just have to check and see inside...

Last night, I got a glimpse of the bomb.  He opened it up and showed me the wires inside.  I could see the nails and bolts.  He held the trigger in his hand.

So, I turned and grabbed my kids and ran like hell.

I hope he was on his way to the field.  I guess I'll find out at dinnertime.


  1. This is an amazing analogy! You have just painted the danger of this addiction so well. Of course we would run like hell if our husband was holding a bomb. And he is. Thank you for this visual. I am praying for you that your husband took it to the field. I pray all of our husbands will. But I know that God will strengthen us to run faster than we have power, to protect ourselves and our children if they don't choose to take it off.

  2. Wow! Good analogy :) I hope he ran to the open field!

  3. It took my wife grabbing my kids and running like hell before I finally started the long, painful process of dismantling the bomb in earnest. It hasn't been fun, but it's been necessary and I'm grateful to my wife for being brave enough to do it even though she didn't want to.