The tracks of my tears

Much personal turmoil going on. A chapter ends and a new one begins.

People say I'm the life of the party...but take a good look at my face. You'll see my smile looks out of place. If you look closer it's easy to trace the tracks of my tears.

Today while shopping at Superfresh for Labor Day picnic foodstuffs (for my small-group bible study this evening), I heard the old Smokey Robinson song, "Tracks of my tears." How ironic that that song has been stuck in my head since. As I was getting ready to go to this cookout, I was crying over the past week's events, but mostly over today's big one. M has admitted to me that he would "work his ass off to get his PhD, but he won't even go to counseling to save his marriage". For him to finally admit that this is about him not wanting marriage (no matter how wonderful I am) with me, is ground breaking. He admitted that I should hold him to that condition of going to counseling if he ever changes his mind again. He is moving out. Our divorce is imminent. I am grieving the loss, but I have assurance from my heavenly Father that I am taken care of, and I will be alright. Somehow I have peace. It is like when my sister committed suicide when I was sixteen and I was so distressed. From nowhere, the Holy Spirit descended upon me in a wave of peace and I knew I would be okay no matter how badly I felt at the moment. God is always surprising us like that. He continues to give us glimpses of hope in the midst of the hardest trials. For this I am thankful.