Life, unexpected

"Whatchoo lookin' at, Pussycat?"

I adore this picture of Kame, and our daughter's cat, Tat. She was curious, and Kame, well, he's being his usual unflappable self. Nothing seems to disturb this little turtle. He is fearless.

A popular country song suggests "If you're goin' through Hell, keep on goin', don't slow down, if you're scared, don't show it... You might get out before the Devil even knows you're there."

Sometimes life throws us for a loop. We're suddenly presented with something so big, so frightening, there is no natural response. All we can do is stare it down, and hope we can bluff our way through.

In the past ten years, Ken and I have faced down a tornado that destroyed our neighbor's home and dropped a tree on our roof, our kids having trouble in school, leading to a year's suspension for our fourth-grader and major health issues which have necessitated sweeping changes in our lifestyle.

It's little wonder, under such assaults, that we began to come apart at the seams. With Ken's election as Fire Chief for our local volunteer department, two kids with seemingly continuous appointments, practices and meetings and my own dedication to becoming a published author, we were wearing thin. The stitching that held our marriage together was beginning to unravel, and we were falling apart.

We forgot, for a time, the first rule in marriage: Turn upward and inward in the face of adversity. No matter what it is you're facing down, nothing, and I mean nothing, is more important than your relationships, first with God and second with your spouse. Never forget that this person is your partner, your team mate, your support system. You promised "for better or for worse". Unfortunately the worse comes harder and faster than you can imagine, and if you're unprepared, it can sweep you off your feet.

When Ken and I faced a new threat, it nearly broke us apart. Rumors were flying around the fire department, that he was stepping out with a young volunteer who happened to be our long-time babysitter.

I found the stories laughable. I've known the young woman for most of her life. I was (and still am) confident that he thinks of her as a sort of surrogate daughter, not a potential fling. Infidelity was the last thing I was afraid of. I thought my marriage was on solid ground, that despite our troubles we were committed and had been in love, and would be again. I believed the chaos of raising children was temporary. I believed that the history we'd built over the first fourteen years of marriage would be enough to keep us together. I was deep in Egypt, lounging along the proverbial river.

Ken was not having an affair with our babysitter. He's made mistakes, as have I, but his heart is strong, and loyal. He's often flippant in conversation, leading people who don't know him well to assume his values are less-than solid. The truth is, he's a passionate man who gives his all to the things he believes in. Once upon a time, he believed in me, in our marriage, our family and our future together. When that belief wavered, life came crashing down around us.

The house of cards has collapsed, but almost a year later, we are rebuilding. The process has been long and painful and it's not over yet. We have a long way to go before our marriage can be called truly healthy, but we'll keep on going.

We will face this, and all our Devils, and we will get out alive.