My thin place came through a dream. Real. Startling. Life-changing.
I am swimming in a pool of clear blue water. The sensation of the sun’s warmth and the water’s chill fill me with contentment. This is my favorite place in the world.
I begin to feel oozing and stickiness around my legs and my torso. In an instant, the pool is filled with black tar. I’m stuck. The stench is nauseating.
God’s voice resounds. “Robbie, do you know what this is?”
I know immediately.
My husband’s addiction to pornography has ripped our home apart. We are trying to recover, but no amount of counseling or prayer can take away the anger. Anger has moved into our home, a roommate that sits with us at meals, lies in the middle of our bed and casts a spell of silence in our car.
It is unfair. I am a Godly woman who does not deserve to be paying for his mistakes.
“Yes, God, I know. This tar is John’s sin and I am stuck in the middle of it.”
“No, Robbie. It is your sin. It is all yours. But I can help you out of it.”
I see a hand at the side of pool.
“Let me help you.”
I wake up sweating. Conviction from the Holy Spirit dampens my skin and squeezes my heart.
That was the beginning of recovery for me. My thin place became the genesis of a discovery of self, forgiveness and hope. Seven years later, my husband and I swim in the waters of grace.
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This post was written in response to a challenge by Mary DeMuth. Mary's new memoir, Thin Places, has just released. In this spiritual memoir, Mary reflects on the "thin places" of her life; places where she was acutely aware of God's presence.
This challenge I participated in is also a contest to win a Kindle. You’ve got until midnight tonight to submit your entry.
