Life in the Wilderness- You Reap What You Sow

Recently “wilderness” has been brought to my attention. I’ve seen it in my Bible, heard it at church, even saw the word on a billboard. Wilderness, a place where domestic animals graze and wild animals lurk. A place where there is no map, no rule book, and on the surface, no conclusion or hope.

In December of 2008 I was a year shy from graduating Appalachian State University. Christmas break was calling so back to Murphy I went and was invited to a party by a friend. Vividly, I remember a lack of excitement about going. Just out of the gym, not exactly in party attire and likely smelly, there was hesitation. I went anyway.

At the same party was my future husband, Bobby. We were acquaintances prior to, but that night he was a fresh bachelor and had eyes for me. I thought he was cute too (and always have). I won’t sugar coat the scenario. We were in our 20’s and at a party. We were drinking. Hours passed and the next thing we know it was 3 am and my ‘friend’ left without me. Bobby offered to drive me home and I accepted. Anyone with a brain knows that drinking and driving is a cocktail for disaster and that is precisely what occurred. We wrecked. Me, Bobby, and his brand-new SUV flipped on its top into a creek, neither of us hurt. Talk about a first impression! A disclaimer, I acted scared for attention, but wasn’t as shaken up as I let on to be.

In 2009, still dating, we opened our first restaurant. We were on fire. Together we could take on anything. Working all the time, spending money, drinking like fish, living in a comfortable home. Like Tony Montana in the first half of Scarface, we were on top. Later that year I miscarried. It was devastating but we kept going. Work, work, work, sleep, then more work.

In 2011 Bobby asked me to marry him. I was elated! We eloped in May of the same year in my hometown of Hawaii. It was two weeks well spent, and well deserved. Shortly after the honeymoon we bought our first house and got pregnant with our first son. The moment I found out I was pregnant I put down the booze. It was no problem for me. Bobby, on the other hand, continued drinking. My mind told me it was fine. He wasn’t pregnant, he works, he maintains, what’s the problem? Sixteen months after our son was born, our daughter entered the world! It was shortly after her arrival my denial of the severity of the drinking declined, and the reality sank in.

Imagine yourself: Body disfigured from childbirth, postpartum depression, two infants sucking the life out of you, and a husband who now has a serious drinking problem but will not admit it. Things were spiraling out of control.

I will not give the gory details. The past is the past. My husband is the best person I have ever met in my life and he is my hero. I love him more than he will ever fathom! But just know that things got rough. There was a lot of resentment and hurt that built up between the two of us. It affected the whole family. I did not know how to live with, and love, an alcoholic, and he did not know how to stop being one. We drove ourselves right into a dangerous, inhospitable place. We were in the wilderness.

Avoiding, threatening, boundaries, consequences, I told him his liver might fail, I tried everything. I barricaded myself and built walls to prevent getting further hurt. Eventually I realized I had no dog in the fight and could not fix the problem. When you try everything, you wind up there. As much as I tried, I had no control. It was then I reconnected with God. When Bobby did come to terms with the magnitude of his alcoholism, he tried to stop. I mean he really tried. There would be months of great times! In 2015 we sold our first home and bought an old parsonage in town while we began building the farmhouse we live in today. During the build, he relapsed a couple times. For a solid month I was left with two babies, building a house by myself while he worked on himself. It was difficult and overwhelming. At one point I found myself in the parking lot of Rib Country, crying, frantically google searching for answers. Questions racing through my mind like “What’s best for the kids”? “Should I tell someone”? The last thing I wanted to do was tarnish his good name. But the pressure. Oh, the pressure that was built up inside from keeping a straight face and keeping our dark secret. Eventually I let a few people know. This made things more confusing. Everyone has their opinion you know.

In 2017 I got pregnant with our second son. I felt like this would be an opportunity to really appreciate one of my children’s infancies. Doing so was impossible with the first two, all things considered. During the pregnancy, a dear friend of mine gave me a book titled Rational Recovery, which offers an alternative view of addiction by completely rejecting the “powerless” premise of 12 step models like AA. Somewhere in between the two approaches, I could see the light bulb go off in Bobby’s head. How exactly, is beyond the scope of this blog and would be better left for him to explain. Early on, there were still a few potholes left in the road, but it has now been 18 months since Bobby closed the door, locked it, and threw away the key to alcohol.

In 2018 Ian was born. I have enjoyed every minute of him.

When I close my eyes and put myself back into specific situations that occurred over those years, I remember what it was like with precision. For myself it was hell. And for Bobby it was hell. I wanted so bad for him to stop. I wanted him to feel what I felt. He wanted to stop, and I am sure, wanted me to feel what he felt. We were on opposite sides of the field. There were times when I was so confused, so angry. “Why is this happening?” “What do I do?” “Who do I tell?” There were times when he was so disheartened that suicide seemed to be the best solution.

I tell you these things so I can share why it did happen and how it changed our family’s life.

While floundering around in the wilderness, desperate, we found God. I can say that had Bobby not had a problem drinking, I may not have the relationship I have with God today, nor ever have unearthed his goodness, and neither would Bobby. Can you believe me when I say that I am thankful for all those hardships? Can you believe me when I say I am glad they happened? God is the master orchestrator! We were living a lifestyle of sin. We never included God. We needed to be left with the wild animals a while so we could learn that we need Him all the time AND when faced with demons, to trust Him. If Bobby and I never went through these trials, neither of us would ever have been refined and shaped into who we are today. I have learned how to have a steadfast love. He has learned how to conquer the beast and develop into a Godly husband and father. We have both learned how to trust God despite our circumstances. Together, we are stronger and more capable spouses, parents and servants than could have ever been possible without our past.

Now we live day by day. The farm brings us so much joy watching it change and grow through the seasons. The garden provides food and flowers, the animals bring new life, meat and milk. Yes, there are bad days, and the work is strenuous, but still, we tend to it, and it never fails to return the love over time and patience.

Take heart, mom, dad, brother, sister. Keep working, keep loving, keep learning, keep praying, keep fighting. While there may be knots and kinks and stray threads in your life’s tapestry, I feel confident that you will reap what you sow. In the end, the result will be something magnificent, especially if you find yourself dwelling among the wild animals for a while.