I Love Him More

I Love Him More

Our lives were once "public domain" – with the making of a documentary, and I found that silencing my voice was not the correct way to explain a marriage broken and a ministry abandoned. In school, we are taught the difference between tattle-taling and telling the truth. The former is meant in malice, to make someone look bad. The latter is to save lives, when you notice someone in danger. I tell this part of my story, with the motivation of telling the truth to save a soul. — Susan

Many nights I awoke to screaming – but this night was different. Like a mother in tune with her babies every cry, so I could tell when my husband was at the end of his rope. Two years earlier they had sent him home with massive prescriptions for Oxycontin, Percocet, Morphine, and many other narcotics, to die. Having exhausted the resources of the medical field, we were simply doing our best to survive. Living in the wilderness made the nearest local hospital more than an hour away.

By morning, the pain had not subsided and although he was already taking pain meds normally reserved for terminal patients, we bumped up his medication even higher. The pain pills still weren't cutting it. So I called the emergency room and asked if I could bring my husband in. Our hope was that an injection of Demerol or something more powerful might take the edge off his misery. The woman on the other end of the phone could hear my anguish and she replied, "That’s what we're here for! Bring your husband in right away!"

I packed Randy into the pickup truck and we painfully made our way down the bumpy dirt road, traveling slowly the 1 ½ hours it took us to get to the hospital. Every bump caused Randy to scream inside – and sometimes out loud as well. We finally made it to the hospital and walked up to the registration desk. In between the door and the desk stood a stern-faced administrator. Her lips in a tight line, she intercepted us before we could get to the front desk.

Sternly, she began by listing all the requirements she would need before Randy would be allowed to see the doctor. The first requirement was that we would need to have x-rays and an undetermined set of tests, including blood work.

But what she emphasized primarily is that we needed to pay for these services up front, because we didn’t have health insurance. She spoke in such a way that it was debatable what side of the law she was on, but it really didn't matter at that point… we were too overwhelmed to complain. I barely made it out the door before a flood of tears cascaded down my cheeks.

We didn’t need all the tests – Randy had already been through nine surgical procedures at that point and had been sent home to die when our health insurance expired. What he needed was help with the pain… something to knock him out, or at least to take the edge off the pain. The administrator apologized on behalf of the nurse who had spoken to me over the phone, saying that she was new and didn’t know better.

We left the hospital in worse condition than when we entered.

My husband, with tears streaming down his worn face, said to me, “They don’t allow animals to be treated this way – we put animals out of their misery.” I cried as I drove for the next 45-minutes… not just for our situation, but for all the people who are in pain and there’s no cure for them.

Whether in hospitals or churches, many people are losing hope that there’s a cure. Maybe you know of someone, right now, who is at the end of their rope…

I'll never forget that day… the hopelessness I felt. You can only go so far without hope. But the anguish I felt inside wasn't for our own situation – somehow the weight of all the suffering people was right on top of me, face-to-face. I looked up to Heaven and made a promise that if somehow my husband's pain would be lifted away, we would spend the rest of our lives helping others to find freedom from disease and pain.

Pain and sickness are death in slow motion, and God's heart is to bring us through, in His timing and ways.

^1-7 The Spirit of God, the Master, is on me because God anointed me.
He sent me to preach good news to the poor,
   heal the heartbroken,
Announce freedom to all captives,
   pardon all prisoners.
God sent me to announce the year of his grace—
   a celebration of God's destruction of our enemies—
   and to comfort all who mourn,
To care for the needs of all who mourn in Zion,
   give them bouquets of roses instead of ashes,
Messages of joy instead of news of doom,
   a praising heart instead of a languid spirit.

I'm glad Randy is free from pain now. God healed him after 4 years of suffering and pain. Randy has chosen to move on, to begin a new life with a different wife. I fought hard for the settlements they are now living off of. And then he left that new wife and married a childhood sweetheart. He gave her vehicle away, left her homeless, and sold and gave away all her possessions, too… just as he did to me.

He told me he hates all women. This worries me, that if I remain entirely silent, will the next victim(s) suffer because of my silence?

Sometimes I wonder if he remembers all these stories of battling for his life, or if they are just part of the haze from heavy narcotics. Does he remember how hard I fought for him? 

Nevertheless, I am the storyteller of my own life. I choose to remember our stories because so much treasure was unearthed in the mines of our history.One day I believe we will be fully healed and friends again. I leave my heart open for love, from a distance… not in the vain hope of restoration of our marriage, of course not… but because I believe it would be a good revenge on the evil that sought to kill us both. I believe the best revenge is a well-lived life, and for me, I am writing into my future that former enemies will become friends.

I learned to battle through so many fears and to see God provide in the worst of times. I cannot throw away the life lessons just because the tests were tough. In fact, and even though he is gone, I believe my love can still make a difference.

You see, whether I blame myself or not, I will be punished. Evil designs our torment this way, and I can choose to accept it, deny it, or change it. By writing my story, I am rewriting the future. Maybe one woman will read this and be saved. Maybe it will be me, even. I can stop the punishment cycle.

Punishment for not going along with the show, he found other lovers. That torment is made worse by the ministry leaders. All but a handful of the hundreds in our network have turned deaf, mute, and blind. The small handful of true friends are my heroes. 

Tagged as: Choosing Love Today, On the Way Home, True Religion Speaks, Unbuckle Your Christianity, Voice of the Bride