Burning the Grave Clothes
By: Susan Deborah Schiller
From the series, "Diary of a Battered Preacher's Wife"
A journal entry from 4 years ago…
July 24, 2011
I had a dream, the day of the divorce, that now makes sense… I was hard to find, spending my days down deep in a catacomb… in a particular tomb… it was my own tomb… one you could come and go, as needed.
It was a tomb of memories and dreams of the past. Pictures of my family were everywhere.
A friend called to me from the narrow opening, not quite a door, and said, "Susan, it's stinking in here and it's time for you to come out!" So I got up and left.
Even though I didn't feel like it, and it's the first time in many months I have attended a social event. Last night I went to a birthday party here in T___, out in the country. I can't remember having been to a party, it's been so long!
I was completely out of my element. I was dressed in 'church-like clothes' and it was actually a biker's party, so everyone else was dressed… well, like bikers! They accepted me as one of their own, even though I was dressed awkwardly.
The unconditional love was extraordinary, even though the language was quite 'spicy'.
I've been hearing a lot of f-words, s-words, and all kinds of words my tongue has yet to speak… but you know, these people don't pretend to be someone they are not. Somehow that seems more holy than my own churchiness.
It truly is a new season, this coming out of the tomb.
It has been a time of being stripped, of religious rags… grave clothes coming off… resurrection. Freedom. This is a journey you can't take by yourself, at least I couldn't. The friends surrounding me both online and here in Thermopolis have been Jesus to me.
Jesus, in my life today, is dressed as "homeless" and "drifters" … "bikers" and "Indians" and "mechanics".
While the church has shunned me, to a good extent… by those who walk with my ex-husband… strangers have literally laid down their lives for me, have taken great risks to love me… two people lost their jobs and homes because they refused to shun me.
Strangers have laid down their lives for me.
No wonder Jesus loved to spend his time with the down-and-outers… truly I have not found such great faith, hope, and love except among people I used to 'shun' because of their 'sinfulness'.
I am one of them… maybe that is why they embrace me. I am homeless, living in a 1975 16-foot Road Runner camper I purchased for $800 on the property of an elderly woman who allows me to work for rent.
Today I am with my daughter and granddaughter… rafting on a river, swimming in the hot mineral springs, witnessing the blooming of moon flowers at midnight, soaking in Wyoming sunshine.
And today is all that matters.
I am closing the door to the past and I am trusting God with my future. I am living in NOW-here.
I choose to burn the mask and the grave clothes. I choose the costly path of freedom and grace. I feel like I've sold everything to buy the Pearl of great price, Jesus Himself.
I feel real. And I'm still scared. Freedom is scary; you make your own decisions and abide by the consequences.
I've burned the grave clothes and left the catacombs of grief. Today is all we have, this moment called Now. I'm going to trust that the One who created this whole universe and beyond and holds everything and everyone together will make everything right.
Nothing is ever lost or wasted. Even our messes are made into masterpieces. Being broken is not a sin; in fact, it is a pathway to holiness.
The secret to joy is knowing God's nature, and with joy, you can burn the grave clothes…
Background: I was once called "the most abused wife" my counselors had ever met. I had been married to a sociopath, twice.. The first marriage lasted 20 years; the second, nearly 10 years. Both of of my abusers are ministers. Friends have asked me to share the story of how God helped a preacher's wife escape to freedom. The escape route is recorded within 83 diary entries, and this is number 25.
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With all my love,
Sue
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