I have written about the abuse I suffered through in the past, but I thought I would, in this month of Valentine’s Day, tell you about God’s mercy to me since that time ended.

After my divorce, I began praying for the gift of singleness. I had enough living from crisis to crisis, living with frequent rage attacks, living with an unstable income. After all, I was a nurse; I had the opportunity to make my own living, staying in the same town as long as I chose, paying my bills on time, having more than sixty dollars per week for groceries, doctor/dentist appointments, and household items. For the first time in my adult life, there was peace in my house. After the divorce (I got the house), I regularly walked through my house asking God to please fill every nook and cranny with his Spirit, every inch of the property, casting out the bad. There had been so many fights and arguments, chipping away at the spirits of the victims in the house for so many years, I just wanted it all cleaned out.

This worked for about five years. Then I began participating in a class at church based on the book, The Search for Significance, by Robert McGee. After one of the classes, a tall gentleman about my age came up to me and attempted to strike up a conversation. I have to admit I was rather dismissive (his words). After all, I was praying for the gift of singleness, working full-time and going to school full time. I had assignments with deadlines to complete when I returned home.

I didn’t see him for several more months. Then as I was sitting in the church auditorium one Sunday morning, waiting for a friend of mine to show up and services to begin, the same gentleman came over, sat on the edge of a seat in the row behind me and struck up a conversation. To be honest, I had not thought of him again since the initial encounter, but this second encounter gave me pause for thought. As each of us was waiting for a friend, he moved on when services began.

Again, several months passed. Then one Sunday morning as I was coming through the atrium (our foyer) of the church building after Sunday morning services, I spoke as I was passing by this gentleman. He struck up a conversation. I don’t remember what my ex had done that day, but I was so angry, I probably would have told the Walmart checker all about it. To his credit, this gentleman listened attentively and then said, “Would you like to continue this conversation over breakfast?” I paused. I reasoned to myself that I needed to stop by the grocery store, and if I ate breakfast first, then I wouldn’t buy everything in the store, and as I had to take the time to eat anyway, I said yes. Driving to the restaurant I was racking my brain trying to come up with his name. No luck. He rescued me as we sat down at the table in the restaurant saying, “Danny. My name is Danny.”

I don’t remember what we talked about at that meal, but I do remember that as we were parting afterward, he asked if we could do it again. I made it clear to him that I was not interested in romance, but friendship would be okay and he stated that he was okay with that.

I would not give him my phone number. My ex had called so many times a day needling me that I did not trust that I would not go through that again. I had told a previous would-be suitor that if I ever became romantically interested in another man, the poor guy would have to pay for the sins of the first and that wouldn’t be fair. I wasn’t even interested in Danny romantically, and it had already started.

We did exchange email addresses, however. The first email didn’t go so well. He emailed me on a Sunday evening. I gave him a short reply telling him that I was signing off (I stayed exhausted, honestly, I was going to bed). He thought he offended me and made the mistake of asking if he could call me, to which I replied, “NO!” and signed off. The next morning, I found an email from him asking what he had done to offend me. This irritated me and I shot him an email back telling him that, believe it or not, it was not all about him. That I had simply been exhausted the night before and was heading to sleep.

I just realized this story is going to take a while to tell, so I will leave you with this first part. But I will add that when folks tell me that I am lucky to have found Danny, I tell them that God found him, because, honestly, I wasn’t even looking.

Love you! Talk with you more next time!

Hugs and blessings,

Cindy