He’s moving out. Packing his things. Hurting. Angry. He wants me to fight for us if I believe in us. He wants me to ask him to stay. And I don’t.
I tell him I’m sorry.
I let him down. I wish I had been stronger from the beginning. He says I used him and that he wishes we’d never met. It’s my fault. I told him he could believe in me and trust in me. And I let him down. Father, I’m sorry. He doesn’t believe that I love him and that I’ve always loved him. But he says these things from his hurting place.
I don’t want him to crumble and I dont want him to fall. I want him to rise up and shine, glorious and victorious. To find himself, to find his peace, to find his joy. All these things I want for him, and he doesn’t know or understand. Only that I’ve just pulled the plug on his life.
I don’t have the means to tell him this, other than send it out in a prayer. Dear Lord, bless him and keep him, make him healthy and safe. Hold him tightly, tightly, tightly in your embrace and warm him with your love and fulness, through and through. Heal him, Father, I pray. Take the pain from his body and from his heart and shine in him and through him so that he can see and know and feel and understand that he is and always has been loved and precious. Bless him, Lord.
These things I pray. And forgive me for the sorrow I’ve caused by my own wrecklessness in thinking that I could be more than who I am. I am sorry.
Nobody truly knows our hearts but you, God. He doesn’t know my heart and intentions from the beginning were pure and full of hope. Just as I don’t know his heart and intentions –my perception is so far off, and maybe his is too. We’ve not understood each other for so long.
I’ve tried. I feel as though I’ve tried.
I’m sorry that I failed.
Mary Says: