Domestic Violence Awareness Month

I recently found out that October is domestic violence month. By writing this, I want everyone to know I am not bitter. I still have my moments of being angry, yes, but I have forgiven, and continue to forgive, my ex husband for what happened. I am writing things because I know I am not the only person who has faced what I have. I also know it happens more in the "Christian" world then many want to admit.

Next Tuesday, Oct. 7, I should be celebrating my 32nd anniversary alongside my parents, my brother/sister-in-law and my grandparents in heaven (yes, we all got married on the same day). I got married like every good Christian girl does with the expectations that my marriage would last forever.

I know there are some people who still do not understand, or want to believe, the decision I made to leave and not return. As hard as it was for the first several years, I have now come to my own understanding in knowing that I made the right decision and there is no looking back. If people want to know they can ask. If they don't understand, that is okay too.

About seven years in we were struggling. Most people don't know this, but I had already had some physical altercations that I faced by this point. I had a boss ask me one time if something had happened and was going to call the police. Counseling did happen, but never together until a couple stepped in one week to help us. After meeting with them we made the decision to stay together and work things out. He had gone to his counselor who had told him that I was the issue and all I ever heard was how it is all my fault. When I would suggest we go to counseling together the request was always denied. Red flag? Absolutely. And yet... "good Christian couples don't get a divorce."

Life was basically okay for many years. We had children. He found a job that was fulfilling for him. Overall, I couldn't complain. I was always told that no marriage is perfect. I was taught that the man is always the head of the household and as a woman if submitted and prayed that God would take care of things. That is what I did when I struggled. I would pray and believe. I would trust that my husband was hearing from God and that he was leading us in a godly way.

I still walked on eggshells. The children and I never knew when the explosion might come. We never knew how long the anger would last. His methods of discipline were often quite harsh. He did not hold back from letting anyone in the family know his thoughts and feelings. If we did something in a way that did not meet his expectations we all knew and life was tense in those moments. To be explicit, sex was when he wanted and how he wanted. If he chose not to have any because he was angry with me, it was always his choice to withhold as he wanted and for as long as he wanted (sometimes weeks). If I chose not too, I was wrong and needed to take care of his needs.

Don't get me wrong... life was not always horrible. There are definitely moments I know were genuinely filled with happiness and good memories. I hold onto those and thankful for them. I do my best to remember the positive and release the negative. Time has made that easier for sure.

This coming December will be six years since the children and I returned to the US. When life as he expected it to happen fell apart, he fell apart. Depression set in. More anger set in. The explosions began to happen more and more. It was his way or the highway. Money spending went through the roof even though we did not have much money. The children were becoming scared of him. Sleep was not happening like it should. Physical altercations began to happen more. Cell phones thrown across the room and busted and then, "It was old enough you needed a new one anyway" is what was said the next day. Even the neighbors were concerned and asked if we were okay because they heard the scenarios numerous times.

I know I was not perfect during this time. My brain was spinning. I was angry because I did not know what to do. I tried praying. I tried being quiet. I tried submitting and just doing what he asked and wanted. And yet... I'm not perfect. I would yell back. I would walk away. I wouldn't engage. I had someone (a Christian guy who stayed with us and knew everything happening) tell me one time that I instigated a situation. So, was I perfect? Absolutely not. I did my best to apologize when I knew I was wrong. I often apologized even when I wasn't wrong.

What hurt was, men would "talk" to my ex and he would come back and say that it is me. I still needed to change. What I always found interesting was these men were all either going through a divorce or had been through one before. Rarely did he connect with a married man. The ones that he did, he didn't ask them for advice about marriage. He would ask them more about spiritual or financial advice.

Life, however, slowly got worse. Yes, I called the police one time. He was slamming doors. He locked the kids in a room. Because I had been given a black eye and probably a broken nose at one point, I locked myself in a room. He started getting angry with other people and were yelling at others too.

I didn't know what to do. I was overseas. I had no where to turn. He restricted who I could talk too. He monitored all the finances.

One day he came home and started yelling at me in the kitchen. Little did I know, until about a week later, that he had butt dialed a friend in the US and she heard the whole thing and recorded it. She asked me about it and I filled her in on what was happening. She and her husband confronted my ex. He denied, but couldn't because they had a recording. He agree to try and do counseling over the phone with all of us. The first session he ended it and left the discussion because he felt attacked.

This couple then decided they needed to get the children and I out of the country. This was all as Covid was still happening. Flights were few and far between. He was standing strong that the children and I were going no where.

A friend finally convinced him (because our son sent a desperate email to several people) to let our son travel to the US because he was 17 and needed to start life. About a week after he had his ticket to leave, he decided that the girls and I could return for a visit. Family and friends paid for the trip. They set everything up for us to return. We were supposed to stay three months and then go back.

As word got out that we had returned and people started to hear what was going on, friends did try to reach out to him to talk to him. They tried to help. There was no reasoning. Phone calls with him were so hard. The anger continued and I was told over and over that I was not allowed to return. If I chose to return I would have been required to find my own home and could not have the girls and would have to pay for all my own things. Impossible overseas. The girls did not want to return and told him that. He got more angry. I was accused of kidnapping the girls.

Interestingly enough, our return flight was cancelled. Covid restrictions were still causing issues. We started life here...

Do I miss Israel? Absolutely. That was my home as much as any place here. I knew God wanted me/us there.

Did God bring me back here for a reason? Absolutely. I completely trust HIM and know that He is in control.

Life has had its ups and downs. Divorce is not easy and mine was better than most, basically because I had nothing and could ask for nothing from him because he was still overseas. I am still learning how to trust again. I am independent and I know that. It doesn't mean I like being alone. I miss having a man to help. listen. assist and be there for me. I also know that trusting "godly men" is a struggle. I don't say any of this for someone to feel sorry for me. I just don't want it to happen to anyone else and I will stand strong that how male headship has been portrayed is not all positive. It has caused a lot of harm. I will also stand strong and say that feminism has also caused problems and issues. Both sides take things too extreme and it is not healthy.

Domestic Violence Awareness month is now something I can admit that I faced. I kept a lot hidden for a long time. It is now a part of my story. I won't be ashamed of it. My life doesn't look like I thought it would. It affected my children. And yet, because I had support from family and friends, I am a stronger person today.

My word has become "FAITH" and I love butterflies. They both inspire me to keep going even when I don't know what is next.

Friends, I know prayer changes things, and yet if you know a woman who is struggling, please do not be afraid to talk to the man as well. Listen to her and believe that things might not be what they seem. I don't care how "godly" the man seems. Be brave enough to confront him. It may be emotional abuse and not just physical. Please do not think that domestic violence is only physical. It definitely is not. Then walk with the woman through a separation if needed. Don't keep saying that God hates divorce and that by submitting it will always get better. It may not, and when it starts to affect the woman and children, someone needs to step in.

Thank you for caring. Thank you for praying me through, and continuing to pray for me and my children. Do this for others too, please.

Love and blessings -

Rose