There is nothing that can be hidden from God.

Everything in all creation is exposed and lies open before his eyes.

Hebrews 4:13

 

Like many 30-something women, I thought I had the perfect life. I bragged about it on Facebook and in my annual Christmas letter. I had a 15- year marriage and two amazing children. I took pride in my career, our home, and everything that we had managed to accumulate over the years. We had it all.

But then it all changed. The routine and organization I thrived on became a distant memory. Meals and sleep seemed unimportant and tears were a constant on my face. I begged him to see a doctor about the anger. I didn’t understand where it had come from. I felt like everything we had built was beginning to crumble.

Each time he hurt me, emotionally or verbally, I felt like I had to keep record of it somehow. There was a period when I considered cutting myself each time he caused me pain. A physical scar to remind myself of the hurtful, vicious, nasty things he had said or done. After holding a blade on my thigh one evening, the reasonable side of me took control and reminded me that hurting myself would not stop him from hurting me.

One day after returning from one of my daughter’s soccer tournaments, I was climbing up to the storage closet in the bedroom to put our luggage away. That’s when I saw it. An old, blue suitcase, covered in dust with fraying straps. His suitcase. It was something that was totally his. Something he had before I became part of his life. It was something that did not hold a single part of me, but could hold several pieces of him.

After that, each time he called me an ugly name or made fun of my underpants, I would find a small token of him and hide it away in his suitcase. If he yelled at me, I would pack one of his hunting calls into the suitcase. The night he stopped the car on the way home from a basketball game and threatened to make me walk, I took his senior picture; him standing by his old Corvette, and tucked it into the top pocket of the suitcase. In my mind, packing these little pieces of him away was the best I could do, until he decided to get some help for the aggression.

Sometimes, when I knew I was home alone, I would pull the suitcase from the storage closet, lay it on the floor and peek inside. I would look at each little artifact and think about how I was robbing him of his life, piece by piece, just as he was trying to rob me of mine. Somehow it seemed appropriate—fair. And then, when my need for revenge was satisfied, I would zip it closed and push the suitcase deep into the closet, and hide it away before anyone could see it.

But that wasn’t true. No matter how dark that closet was or how far back I shoved it, my secret would never be hidden from God. I thought about the vows we had taken. I recalled the part in the ceremony where it was read that “two are better than one,” and I thought about how far away from that verse we had ended up. Instead of sharing my fears and worries with my husband, I was concealing them, and living as though I was the only one in this marriage.

Then I remembered something else that was read during our wedding. “A cord of three strands isn’t easily broken.” Not only was I excluding my husband from our marriage, but I had also forgotten that God was supposed to be a part of our union, too.

I decided I had a choice to make. I could continue seeking revenge on my husband by hiding his belongings in a suitcase or I could invite God back into our marriage and pray for His help and guidance.

I picked God.

The next several months weren’t easy, and the days passed slowly. There were conversations filled with tears, and others filled with bitter, angry words. We sat through sessions with our pastor, and sessions with a counselor. I talked about how afraid I was of his anger, and he explained where the anger was coming from. Our lives were in complete chaos, and it felt like we had lost control. And that is exactly what it took to save our marriage. When we both made the decision to trust God, our marriage become the priority again, not the suitcase.

That suitcase was eventually emptied. It was part of our therapy. We did it together, the three of us. Then it was placed back into the storage closet. And as I let go of the fraying straps, I thought about the “cord of three strands.” I imagined our cord looking frayed and damaged, like the straps. But I knew it was also stronger than ever.

As scary as this time in our lives was, we both learned something through it. A marriage doesn’t need baggage, just God.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now
So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Her View From Home

Millions of mothers connected by love, friendship, family and faith. Join our growing community. 1,000+ writers strong. We pay too!   Find more information on how you can become a writer on Her View From Home at https://herviewfromhome.com/contact-us/write-for-her//

Your Kids Don’t Need More Things, They Need More You

In: Faith, Kids, Motherhood
Mother and young girl smiling together at home

He reached for my hand and then looked up. His sweet smile and lingering gaze flooded my weary heart with much-needed peace. “Thank you for taking me to the library, Mommy! It’s like we’re on a date! I like it when it’s just the two of us.” We entered the library, hand in hand, and headed toward the LEGO table. As I began gathering books nearby, I was surprised to feel my son’s arms around me. He gave me a quick squeeze and a kiss with an “I love you, Mommy” before returning to his LEGO—three separate times. My typically...

Keep Reading

Mom, Will You Pray With Me?

In: Faith, Motherhood
Little girl praying, profile shot

“Will you pray with me?” This is a question I hear daily from my 9-year-old. Her worried heart at times grips her, making it difficult for her to fall asleep or nervous to try something new. Her first instinct is to pray with Mom. Perhaps this is because of how many times her Dad and I have told her that God is with her, that she is never alone, and that she can always come to Him in prayer and He will answer. Perhaps it is because she has seen her Dad and I lean on the Lord in times...

Keep Reading

My Aunt Is the Woman I Want to Become

In: Faith, Living
Woman with older woman smiling

It’s something she may not hear enough, but my aunt is truly amazing. Anyone who knows her recognizes her as one-of-a-kind in the best way possible. It’s not just her playful jokes that bring a smile to my face, her soul is genuinely the sweetest I know. I hope she knows that I see her, appreciate her, and acknowledge all the effort she puts in every day, wholeheartedly giving of herself to everyone around her. When I look back on my childhood, I see my aunt as a really important part of it. We have shared so much time together,...

Keep Reading

A Big Family Can Mean Big Feelings

In: Faith, Kids, Motherhood
Family with many kids holding hands on beach

I’m a mother of six. Some are biological, and some are adopted. I homeschool most of them. I’m a “trauma momma” with my own mental health struggles. My husband and I together are raising children who have their own mental illnesses and special needs. Not all of them, but many of them. I battle thoughts of anxiety and OCD daily. I exercise, eat decently, take meds and supplements, yet I still have to go to battle. The new year has started slow and steady. Our younger kids who are going to public school are doing great in their classes and...

Keep Reading

Motherhood Never Stops, and Neither Does My God

In: Faith, Motherhood
Daughter kisses mother on cheek

I’m standing in the shower rinsing the conditioner out of my hair with a toddler babbling at my feet, running through this week’s dinner menu in my head. “Hmm, this meal would be better suited for this day, so what should we do instead?” or “Maybe we should save that for next week since it’s easy and we will be busy with baseball starting back up. I can work something in that may take more effort in its place.” Being a wife and mother, running a household, it’s about the small moments like this. There’s something about it that is...

Keep Reading

So God Made a Sunday School Teacher

In: Faith, Living
Woman sitting at table surrounded by kids in Sunday school class, color photo

God looked around at all He had created, and He knew He would need someone to teach His children. So God made a Sunday school teacher. God knew He needed someone with a heart and desire to teach children God’s word. God knew the children would act up and made Sunday school teachers with patience and grace to guide them when they step out of line in class. He also made Sunday school teachers with a touch of discretion to know when the stories of a child may be real or imagined. God knew this person would need to be...

Keep Reading

But God, I Can’t Forgive That

In: Faith, Marriage
Woman holding arms and walking by water

Surrender is scary. Giving in feels like defeat. Even when I know it’s the right thing, yielding everything to God is scary. It also feels impossible. The weight of all I’m thinking and feeling is just so dang big and ugly. Do you know what I mean? Sometimes I cling so tightly to my fear I don’t even recognize it for what it is. Bondage. Oppression. Lack of trust. Oh, and then there’s that other thing—pride. Pride keeps me from seeing straight, and it twists all of my perceptions. It makes asking for help so difficult that I forget that...

Keep Reading

Dear Dad, I Pray for Our Healing

In: Faith, Grief, Grown Children
Back shot of woman on bench alone

You are on my mind today. But that’s not unusual. It’s crazy how after 13 years, it doesn’t feel that long since I last saw you. It’s also crazy that I spend far less time thinking about that final day and how awful it was and spend the majority of the time replaying the good memories from all the years before it. But even in the comfort of remembering, I know I made the right decision. Even now, 13 years later, the mix of happy times with the most confusing and painful moments leaves me grasping for answers I have...

Keep Reading

God Redeemed the Broken Parts of My Infertility Story

In: Faith, Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Two young children walking on a path near a pond, color photo

It was a Wednesday morning when I sat around a table with a group of mamas I had just recently met. My youngest daughter slept her morning nap in a carrier across my chest. Those of us in the group who held floppy babies swayed back and forth. The others had children in childcare or enrolled in preschool down the road. We were there to chat, learn, grow, and laugh. We were all mamas. But we were not all the same. I didn’t know one of the mom’s names, but I knew I wanted to get to know her because she...

Keep Reading

God Has You

In: Faith, Motherhood
Woman hugging herself while looking to the side

Holding tight to the cold, sterile rail of the narrow, rollaway ER bed, I hovered helplessly over my oldest daughter. My anxious eyes bounced from her now steadying breaths to the varying lines and tones of the monitor overhead. Audible reminders of her life that may have just been spared. For 14 years, we’d been told anaphylaxis was possible if she ingested peanuts. But it wasn’t until this recent late autumn evening we would experience the fear and frenzy of our apparent new reality. My frantic heart hadn’t stopped racing from the very moment she struggled to catch a breath....

Keep Reading