Till Death Do Us Part

What happened?

How did I get here?

What now?

I am lost!

How am I going to do this alone?

Will I survive the very crushing of my soul?

These are just a few of the thoughts that ran through my mind in April of 1997. I found myself without a husband with four little girls, no family anywhere close to me. I was alone and the world felt huge, hopeless, and I was beyond afraid.

I don't go back to this place very often, but sometimes you have to look at the end of one thing to recognize the magnitude of something new.

This was the beginning of the rest of my life. This was my redemption from a life filled with constant self doubt and fear. This was when God pushed the restart button on my life and began the process of restoring my heart. This was the day I understood real pain, and that God brings beauty out of ashes.

During this period of time, I wept to the very depths of my being. I thought I would die of the pain that encased me. I could not get away from it. I wanted to die, but I couldn't bear the thought of leaving my girls. I was confused on how love worked. I didn't even know what romantic love was. It was a foreign language to me.

There were days when I lost focus, but overall, I kept my bearings. I kept my eyes on Jesus, and I just kept walking toward Him. Sometimes all I could do was crawl, but at least I crawled. If I would have stopped, I would have perished. There is no doubt of that. He kept me breathing. He also gave me promises.

I longed to have a man love me the way I was created to be loved. I was twenty-nine, and the very thought of spending my life alone was more far-fetched in my mind than someone willing to look at what my life held and then choose to embrace it. I longed to be sought after, wanted, treasured, and I longed to be held. My heart and my flesh cried out for that. We were created to love and be loved. I was no exception.

My path was long. There are far too many seconds in two years, seconds that I had to survive and make sure my girls were OK. But, each second I chose to live and breathe was a second of healing for me. Second by second I was learning to trust.

I would stand at night on my porch and look at the moon. I would wonder where he was. I would walk around the park and wonder what it would be like someday to walk there with him. I knew he was out there, but I also knew God was doing something in his heart as well. He no doubt had to be a man of honor. My heart could not take anything less. Not a perfect man, but a man who was loyal. A man who would never leave me until death do us part. A man who kept his promises.

On June 16, 1999, I stood in front of some of the closest friends in my life. I stood before them with my man. For the first time in a long time, I felt joy. I was not alone any longer. I was one with someone who loved me. Through thick and thin, I was now married to a man who chose me and my life.

That was 12 years ago today. We have passed major milestones in our life together. We are Steve and Shellie. We go together. We are family.

This is not a story of two perfect people who had it all down. Even though Steve was my prince charming, we did not ride off into the sunset on a white horse. We rode off in a minivan with five little girls in the back and with all our baggage. We were in for a very bumpy ride.

This is a story about two imperfect people who stayed. And because of that, neither one of us fears being left any longer. Through all of it, we stayed family.

It is as simple and complex as that.