Judgment

It would be easier if I were angry.  Anger is a fabulous tool for creating distance and repelling sympathy or empathy or love.  It is a terrific defense against anguish and heartache.  But I am not angry.  And when I foolishly read his words I am wooed, as I'm sure, are the others who read them, and even when I see the duplicity in his tales, in his depictions of me and our marriage, I question myself first.  And then I hurt.  Because his words make love to me now in ways he never did when we were together.  How many times did my heart beg for some affection, some signal that he had warmth in his heart for me?  And how many times did he utterly reject my supplication?  Did I just miss it?  Did I manage to misinterpret or overlook his shows of affection and love? He calls me a liar, and deceived, and I say the same.  He says I never supported him, that I tried to control him, that I was only and always critical of him...and I would say much the same.  We both say that we have searched our own hearts and examined our consciences for sin.  We both say we feel comforted and sustained by the Lord.  How can that be true?  How can it be that both of us are trying to do what's right and yet, we are here, separated, divorce on the way?  One or both of us must be deceived and deceiving.  

I know of only one objective and qualified judge in this circumstance, and His judgment will not be shown forth until long after this post and my questions are long gone.  Let him judge between me and thee (1 Sam. 24:12).