Sunset in the ... Mirror Driving home from work late one night, I couldn't help but notice it was almost dusk. I was headed North, and driving right along with the setting sun on my left. With a
Sunset in the Rear-view Mirror
Driving home from work late one night, I couldn't help but notice it was almost dusk. I was headed North, and driving right along with the setting sun on my left. With a slight headache, my thoughts drifted through the day at work that was over. I work at a domestic violence shelter, and it seems one can never know from one moment to the next what to expect.
As I drive home at the end of the day, it is not unusual for me to think of my life, and all the changes that have come about. I once was the victim of domestic violence, myself. I was never beaten. I was threatened, had things broken, yelled at, but these were not something I could easily identify as abuse. I'd always thought abuse was hitting; a physical pain.
The sky was slowly darkening and the feathery wisps of clouds turned to pretty pastels. I continued to keep one eye on the clouds as I watched the road and let my mind wander.
I often had tried to reason with my husband. He need not yell. I could hear what he was trying to say. I just didn't always agree with him. Did we have to think the same way about everything? Was that what it meant to be submissive, I often wondered. I usually acquiesced. He was the head of the household, I was the wife. That was my role. He plowed ahead, I tried to follow. Often I felt put-down and betrayed; the butt of his jokes. He actually seemed to enjoy putting me down, but my own husband wouldn't do that, would he? He loved me! I must be the cause of our problems. Sometimes he used my ideas and passed them off as his. If it was my idea, how could it be right? Silly me, I was the stupid one. It was just easier to agree and go along, than fight. I wanted peace at any cost. I didn't know it cost giving up myself. But no one else seemed to notice, no one but me.
And life had been so promising. I'd been a good student. I hadn't made many of the mistakes my classmates had made. I thought I was steady and a common sense thinker, but why couldn't I do anything right in my marriage?
Our three children were not the butt of his violent temper, I was. As long as it was directed at me, it didn't hurt them, did it?
My car left the freeway, and I was now headed in the opposite direction of the beautiful sunset that was transpiring. I hated to leave the florescent sky behind, but my trip must continue. I was headed home.
Home now, was not with the man I married. After 16 years, I'd left him, unable through counseling to find any way to reconcile our miserable marriage. When we went to the pastors and counselors, I again was the 'bad guy'. By this time I was convinced that he didn't love me. I realized how evil he had really been.
My family was devastated by the divorce. No one in our family 'divorced'. It wasn't done. My family's shame was almost worse than the bad marriage. But there were secrets that even they didn't know. I tried to explain, but I couldn't bring myself to relive the details. If they wouldn't trust me, I was on my own. Couldn't anyone understand? I learned to live with that pain, as well. I had never felt so lonely.
It had been 7 years since the divorce, now. Home was an 80 year old farmhouse on a beautiful country road. I was remarried, now, to a peaceful soul like myself, whom I learned I could trust. We worked together on our home, remodeling, landscaping, building. We were constructing more than a house - a new life. My family was more understanding and my kids had weathered the rough years of the divorce, much as our farmhouse had weathered the winds of time, and they were doing very well. A big lie, I'd learned was 'staying together for the sake of the children'. My children had now learned that everyone deserved respect, even Mom. All was peaceful, again.
I traveled through the little town I live near, and headed home. Almost home.
I'd learned what marriage was really all about. As head of the household, a man was meant to lead, but not bully or push - not manipulate, threaten and criticize. He was to be someone who could be respected and honored; a man of character and commitment. No matter how much pain a person has endured, we have a choice to let that pain control us. Power and control meant nothing to a man who was committed to 'love as Christ loved the Church'. My husband was a gentle shepherd, not a drill sergeant.
Not far from home, I climbed a hill and suddenly was stirred out of my reverie. A brilliant sunset, more brilliant that any I'd ever seen shrieked at me from the rear view mirror. The vibrant oranges and vivid pinks held me spellbound. I rounded a turn at the top of the hill and pulled to the side of the road. With tears streaming down my face, I witnessed God's awesome creativity at work. I also knew exactly what He was trying to tell me at that very moment. While I was going through those hard times, He knew what I didn't. He knew that one day I would look back and see the brilliant master plan. He didn't put me through the abuse, but he used it to create a masterpiece - one I couldn't see at the time, but only when I looked back on it, after the passage of time. I'd weathered the storm and He was right there with me all the time. I was never alone.
I sat for several moments, drinking in the beauty of the incredible sunset that night. I eased back on the road and rounded another bend. That sunset followed me all the way home in the rear view mirror just as God had never left me alone.
How nice to be home.
Sheryl Simons
