Do you have a moment? Do you have several? I am talking about those moments in time that change everything. Those moments that will forever imbed in your memory. You might not even know why you remember it, but for some reason it resurfaces from time to time. Moments in time, frozen and yet dynamic. Sometimes they are destructive, or formative. I want to focus on those moments that seem to shatter your image of yourself. I have been shattered, both for the better and worse. I remember the shattering that took place when my mom died. My 17 month old daughter crawled in my lap to comfort her crying dad. I remember staying up with the kids, getting through croup. I remember great conversations, hearty laughs, and “I Love You”.
However, I remember the most recent shattering. I panicked at the loss of intimacy when my wife (at the time) told me she no longer felt intimate with me and didn’t want to do marriage counseling. I was dumbfounded. Looking back, it destroyed me. That is not the shattering moment. I don’t know that I will ever get the image out of my head, but it wasn’t the moment.
First the history. As I mentioned, I was hit hard by my ex wife. I behaved inappropriately. I texted other women. I made a huge mistake. Despite an interactive conversation, one person filed harassment charges. They were dismissed, but the damage was done. I met the officers at WalMart, in the parking lot. I was signing the complaint. The police officers looked at me condescendingly and handed me the paper. I signed on the trunk of their patrol car and said, “This will end my career and my marriage.” I was right.
I was asked for a divorce one month later. I had reported myself to the regulatory agencies for my profession. I was told I could not function as a doctor until further notice. The stipulation that was put into place ended any possibility of a career. My ex wife began an active a malicious campaign with my daughters. It also was successful and they no longer say, “I Love You.” They say, “I hate you.” A single moment shattered, the noise was deafening. The glass didn’t land all at once but has continued to fall slicing my body and life. It was just a moment. I doubt the police officers even remember it.
It was tragic and devastating. It was also the start of moment after moment. It was beautiful. I remember a hug from my younger brother. I cried a lot in those first months. He said, “You really messed up, but I love you, you are a good man, I am here.” I would have never seen this side of him.
I remember my sponsor saying that he was impressed with how I had dealt with this.
I remember kind words and big hearts.
I remember being told I am special just because of who I am.
I remember being liked and loved for who I am not what I do or how well I do it.
No moment is just a moment.