By Tammy Schaubhut, Guest Columnist
The Picayune Item
How could this happen? Why didn't he care that I was dying on the inside? These were the questions running through my head as I laid in my empty king sized bed all alone. My husband was gone.
The allure of the world had captured his heart and taken him prisoner unaware. As I laid there, I couldn't help but feel the anger inside of me begin to well up from a slow simmer to a raging boil. The thought of him being in another's arms infuriated me and sickened me to the core. I was not angry at the other woman as you would expect, for she was a victim and a pawn of the enemy's plans as well.
Yet the Spirit of God began to stir within my soul. A righteous anger began to brew against the enemy and his plans for my marriage. All of a sudden, the feeling of being pulled from my bed consumed me. Now, there I stood at the foot of my bed with the feel of the brown shag carpet between my toes.
The prayers began to bellow out of me with such force and authority. As I began to pray more intensely; the tighter my toes would grasp the carpet. It was as if they were clutching on to every fiber in an effort to help keep me physically grounded. Although my body never left the ground, my Spirit was airborne and soaring.
With each passing moment, the cry of my heart rang out loudly into the heavenlies and straight to the feet of my Father's throne. I could see Him, my Father, leaning over to pick up my tear stained petition that was lying there before him. As He held it in his hand, I watched him ring it out as if it were a soaking wet dish rag. Each tear that fell from it was caught into a clay terra-cotta vase.
He ever so carefully placed the vase to the left of His throne and turned back to read my petition before him. With such compassion in His eyes and a gentleness in His voice, He turned to His Son and said, "It is finished."
I knew that my Father was faithful to complete the work in my husband that He had begun. I knew God was letting me know that all would end well. As the vision had come to an end, the boldness of the Lord had come upon me. Pacing back and forth at the foot of my bed, I began to declare the promises of God at the top of my voice. My prayers had echoed through the walls of hell and shook it's foundation to the core.
I let the enemy know, in no uncertain terms, that he nor any demon in hell or woman on earth would separate what God had joined together. For the first time, I truly understood the meaning of a righteous anger. It was an anger that consumed every fiber of my being, yet it was not accompanied by any hatred or malice towards another.
The best analogy that I could use would be to ask you to imagine yourself to be an heir to a throne. Your Father, the king, has decreed a special inheritance to you, but your sworn enemy swoops in and tries to steal it away. He tries to take what is rightfully yours. Imagine the anger that you would feel. How dare he come in and try to take away what your Father has given to you!
My gift from the Father was not going to be ripped away from me. Robbie was mine. Then, I heard it — His still small voice speaking to me, "Stand still, Tammy, and know that I am God. I will bring him home again and this is a promise from the Lord."
No longer did I have those questions of: Why did He let this happen? Doesn't He care that I am dying on the inside? My soul was at peace and my trust was in him.
The journey was long and one filled with walking by faith and not by sight. It was a time of keeping my eyes focused on the Lord and His promises, not the circumstances that surrounded me.
Now, twenty two years later, I sit on my bed and pen this story with my husband by my side and the past at my back.