For The Broken
Brian and I have gone public with our story, but we realize that not everyone likes to sit and listen to a podcast. So, we’ve decided to just write it down here.
We’re writing it for our records… for our healing… but we’re also writing it for you.
We don’t claim to be marriage counselors or relationship experts by any means. Heck, we’re still figuring out new things about each other on a daily basis. But we want to do this… because while we were in the midst of our darkest moments, the moments we thought our marriage was not going to make it, we felt completely alone. However, even though we FELT that way… the truth is, we weren’t.
Our hope is that where-ever YOU may be, even though you FEEL like it, you will know are NOT alone.
“Our Story” series will begin on Tuesday. We hope you will join us in praying:
- ** for the many out there who are still trapped in darkness.
- ** for the ones who are listening to the lie that they can never be forgiven.
- ** for the ones who think they are broken beyond repair.
- ** for the ones who really believe they are worthless.
- ** for the ones who have given up hope.
Here we are… a month after and really, we’re just starting to realize our story has very little to do with us… and much more to do with WHO God is in all of this. Jesus didn’t come for the well… he came for the broken.
He came for me…
…and he came for YOU.
He’s HERE for you.
In My Daddy’s Lap (Part One)
My parents divorced when I was seven.
Wait… actually… I have no idea WHEN they divorced. The accurate statement would be… the announcement of the divorce happened when I was seven.
My childhood before seven was somewhat innocently happy. I remember Dad teaching me how to play “cat’s cradle“ and Mom bringing home the most amazing birthday cakes. But what’s interesting is, I don’t remember much of anything about my family life between the ages of seven and twelve. I have NO MEMORIES of home life in that 5 year life span.
Uh… therapy anyone? Yeah… don’t worry… I’m on that like a fat kid on a box of ding-dongs.
Let’s back up a bit: The day my mother told us they were divorcing, I remember feeling EXTREMELY confused.
I was old enough to know what “divorce” meant, but I never heard OR saw my parents fight. Heck… I barely remembered ever seeing them talk. I never thought the divorce was my fault, but I didn’t know WHY they needed a divorce since everything seemed “fine”. What confused me even more was why my Mom pulled us three girls into my bedroom to tell us ALONE when my Dad was sitting right in the living room watching football. ”Isn’t this something they should be doing together?” I kept asking myself.
It felt like an hour had passed in that room. I didn’t hear a thing that was said. I remember my sister, Renee, crying and my baby sister, Helen, crawling all over the place. That baby had no clue our world was about to drastically change. All I wanted to do was get OUT of that room and jump into my Dad’s lap.
Once the “meeting” was over… I did just that.
My sister, Renee, and I ran and jumped into my Dad’s lap. I remember Renee asking him,
“Why, Daddy?… WHY? Why are you leaving us?”
Then I heard the words I would never forget:
“Because this is what your Mom wants.”
Then, the unimaginable happened. My Dad broke down and cried…
I had NEVER seen my Dad cry. NEVER…
in the center of the couch of our family room…
with football television as a faint background noise…
we sat…
weeping…
in my father’s lap for the very last time.
Something inside me died that day.
At age seven, sitting there for the last time ever in my Daddy’s lap, I made my first lifetime decision:
I was NEVER going to let anyone make decisions like this for me.
NO ONE would ever make me cry again.
And this ONE single decision ruled my life for the next 23 years…
Jenni on Skype: jclayville 
