It's that scene you see in movies sometimes...there is a character, at the top of a building, about to JUMP and end their life. People are looking up in horror screaming for them NOT to jump but the potential jumper is oblivious. Then 'help' arrives in the form of a hero or something. They try to reason w/ the jumper but the jumper just can't get it. Then that moment comes, the camera zooms in and you see the face, the eyes and the hero stops talking & simply states: Give me your hand. They are almost pleading, just give me your hand. The jumper can finally hear, for a moment and stares at that hand, wanting so bad to reach out and grab it but struggling w/ that feeling that it's too good to be true that there might be hope. Convinced that the ONLY way out is to JUMP! You can feel the extreme tension, your on the edge of your seat. If they just reach out and take the hand, you know they want to...but will they? You see how torn they are.
When I was experiencing a living nightmare, incredible heartbreak and confusion...where or how did I find hope?
I remember a moment...it was an incredibly hurtful event and situation. I'll spare the gory details...but I found myself in an ugly situation w/ my husband. He was acting in such a disgusting, unrecognizable manner. (it was the middle of the 'nightmare') I was yelling and insulting him, telling him how disgusting he was and how disgusted I was with him and his behavior. (real nice, huh?)
He stood there quiet, where previously he was mocking me and being utterly cruel and heartless.
But a thought flashed across my mind after I screamed how disgusting he was: God said to me: I know you are and I still love you. I nearly broke down right then and there in front of my husband. I looked at him and for a flash, a split second, I could see into his heart. I could see HIS brokenness and need, his own pain. His desire and wish to make it all right, to fix it but not knowing how, thinking he was too far gone....I saw it and knew there was a part of him that longed to be back on the other side, on our side, with me and our family. It was only a flash, I can't explain it, but it was there.
In that split second, in the only way I could, I reached out to him verbally and said, with a crack in my voice: And...I would still take you back.Then as quick as I saw his longing and desperation, the self-loathing and guilt took over and the wall came up, displayed once again in anger. But it had been there, I saw it and it moved me. I knew then there was hope...if he could just recognize it and choose NOT to jump.
In that awful, overwhelming, and heartbreaking moment, I received hope. *I* grabbed onto it myself. God gave me a glimpse of His view of us. And He's there, with his hand out, gently asking us to take His hand. He sees into our hearts, into our souls.
I was able to recognize my own husband's despair and knew there was hope for us, beyond the anger, the pain and the heartbreak.
I was moved to compassion and felt hope.
Eventually...he was able to cross over, reach out and grab *my* hand. We then stepped away from the edge of the 'roof', together.