Wednesday, September 30, 2015

A lack of hatred

I have had many people ask me how it is that I do not hate my husband for what he's done, or make mention of the fact that they would hate him, or do hate him, and so forth.  

So many people seem to think it's crazy that I don't, deep down hate him.


I just don't. I have loved him for 14 years, and while I do not romantically love him now, a part of me has love for him, for his soul and his eternity. A part of me cares for his well being and hopes that he will turn his life around and come back to the path that is good. I pray he can mend his ways and relationships with those he has cut himself loose from.

Yes, people have told me that is crazy of me. Sometimes, I feel it is, too.

I will admit, there have been a few times I have thrown the word "hate" around in regard to all of this, whether it's hating what has happened or what has been done or what has become, and possibly I have said I hate him too, or that I have the potential to. I have even gone so far as to wish that I did or could for feeling that it would be easier to cope. (I realize how wrong that is.)

And then I realize not long after that I don't. I do not hate him, anyway. I sometimes tell myself it would be easier if I did. But I just do not hate.  Perhaps you see that as weak. I see it as strength. I do hate, despise, detest what has happened to my family, yes. I do hate the choices he has made. I do not hate him.

I feel compassion and remorse when I think less than desirable things toward a person. It's just how I am.

I think that's God in me. 

I have read the verse I placed above many times. Tonight, though, it actually spoke to me. I had to share it.

1 comment:

  1. I think I hate him for you, sometimes. And I've certainly wished at times that you would learn to hate him, because sometimes I think that's what got me through my divorce. But, when I sit down and think about it, that's not true. You don't come back from real hate, so I suppose I just felt intense anger. But, as much as I sometimes hoped you could, I never expected you to hate Jake. That's not YOU. The black parts of his soul, maybe, but him in his entirety? No. Never. You are far too, Godly, loving, kind-hearted, and compassionate for hate. I'm proud of you for holding on to those parts of you. It would have been far easier to lose yourself in the fight. Instead, you've remained steady even when wavering, always an amazing mother, the best friend I could ask for, with a kind, listening ear, even when my complaints are ridiculously minor compared to what's happening in your life. I envy your strength. I love you.

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