This is a guest post by Carrie Schmeck.
Until I nearly died, I didn’t know I was dying.
Not true. I knew.
We know. Nothing is really secret. But the fear of truth can be so frightening we choose not to see.
Truth brings certain change we cannot know so we opt for the present, brushing aside inklings, ignoring misgivings for all the reasons that make sense…our values, beliefs, the kids, our lifestyle, finances, pride and fear.
And for the reasons that don’t…our values, beliefs, the kids, our lifestyle, finances, pride and fear.
In short, we lie to ourselves to preserve our world.
We are good at justifying, aren’t we?
At least I was.
Facing truth was the scariest most life-altering experience of my life.
Facing truth brought my worst fear to fruition. I am divorced. As I feared I might be.
This is my story. It’s long and it’s sad. But it has a a good ending because, in the end, I live.
Truth saved me. But first, I had to understand whose truth counted. Because truth can be defined three ways: your truth, divine truth and my truth. Until recently, my truth came in a distant third.
For most of my life, I’ve accepted divine truth as a cornerstone of my life.
Then somehow, I placed your truth, his truth, ahead of mine and spent years wondering why my feelings did not match the picture he painted. I understand now I gave my right to own and value my truth away. It didn’t happen overnight and it hasn’t unraveled in a hurry, either.
I’ve had to step back in time to understand where my heart, mind and feelings diverged. How did I become a narcissist’s dream? How could I, for nearly 27 years, convince myself I had a relationship with a shill? Was I that good at deceiving myself or did I just not know?
I find there is as much to forgive of myself as there is my former spouse. I ignored the evidence, choosing instead to be afraid. I allowed myself to be the wind beneath his wings and called it submission. It was submission all right, but not godly submission, not healthy submission. It was subterfuge, deceit used to achieve my desire to be anything but divorced.
If I were a guessing girl, I’d guess my divorce scares you, dear reader. Who wants to go there? I’m not going to advocate for divorce. That’s simply where mine ended. It doesn’t always have to be that way. I will, however, advocate for courage to face truth—no matter its end. Because living in truth is so much better than dying in a lie.
Vickie asked me to tell my story and I pray I do it well, with honesty, honoring those I love but sharing truth even when it isn’t pretty. For it was my aptitude for grace over truth that cost me my life. Calling a rose a daisy does not make it not a rose.
In the end, truth prevails and will not be hidden, even to ourselves. Would you journey with me? For if I can offer a speck of courage and light, I will be pleased.