Surrendering: When Pain is Transformed into Extraordinary Blessings

Surrendering meant putting our new found faith first, regardless of our circumstances. The closer John-Marlon and I grew to our faith, the closer we grew to each other. In the last three months of John-Marlon’s life, he emerged as my soul-mate, and I was his. He told me his innermost darkest secrets; he shared the good, the bad, the ugly and the uglier. In one of those moments, he grabbed my hand and with tears streaming down his face he smiled the biggest smile, it was almost angelic, and he whispered “I forgive you.” I could see in his eyes that the forgiveness was something much deeper than just my dirty mouth. With great concern I asked “for what?”, and he responded with “you know.” I truly did not know what he was referring to, and my heart began to sink. He had to be referring to that one night where I had blacked out. I took a deep breath in and asked him to please spell out what I was being forgiven for. He smiled and in detail explained how I betrayed our sacred home. It all started coming back to me; he actually believed everything I told him about my pretend affair, and apparently I had many and in my very own bedroom. Oh dear God what have I done, I don’t even remember saying half the things I said I did? I felt like such a jerk – of course he would believe me, he has Asperger’s for goodness sakes, he takes everything literally! I looked at him, leaned over, grabbed his face and with tears now making their way down my cheeks and onto his chest I said “please believe me, I never did that.” I then expected a rebuttal, but I only got a bigger smile. He said “I believe you, but it doesn’t matter, I would have forgiven you either way; forgiveness is forgiveness.” We cried and hugged, and then he grabbed my hand tight and told me he had to tell me something. He not only confessed that he was the happiest man on Earth knowing I had never even kissed a man outside of our marriage, but he then blew my mind, by confessing that in retaliation he had carried out his own betrayal. He then asked for forgiveness, and in the same breath offered any and all details of the betrayal. Although I initially felt sucker punched, I was overcome with tremendous peace just by looking into his eyes and seeing the sincerity and the pain that he carried for both of us. I told him I forgave him and the details were not important. Forgiveness is forgiveness I repeated.
After speaking for eight straight hours; we were interrupted by the alarm set for my 6 am wake-up. He ended the conversation by sharing that he wouldn’t change his journey, as this journey led him to find himself. “I love who I am, and I know who I am,” he said as his lips quivered with joy and his eyes sparkled with tears. I knew exactly what he meant – as I too had changed – and I also loved the new and improved me. We both had peace beyond understanding.
The days prior to his passing, he assured me, the pastor and his dear friends that he was ready to be with Jesus. He smiled grandly whenever he mentioned his upcoming visit to Heaven. As I held his hand, John-Marlon took his last breath on May 7th. On that day, I lost two people who were dear to me. I lost the guy who swept me off my feet with adventures, love, affection, and passion – the guy who taught me how to live in the moment and live with purpose. On that very day, I also lost my soul-mate, the man I fell madly in love with on a spiritual level who I had met just three months prior. He was honest, humble, emotionally connected and present.
There were many nights in those final months that we cried together, when we both hoped for more time and we prayed for God to provide us with his cure and healing, but we were at peace with God’s decision. We knew that the love and miracle we shared could not be obtained by even the happiest couples. John-Marlon took many moments to apologize for not being the husband I deserved for many years of our marriage. He was enlightened enough to understand that his disability prohibited him from communicating effectively in our marriage, and he saw clearly that his obsessions and his impulsive tendencies were extreme. Asperger’s definitely played the starring role in our marriage during the rocky years.
I, too, could have been a better wife for many of those years, but nevertheless, there are no regrets. I am the woman I am today because of my experiences. I am honored and blessed that God chose me to travel this road with him. God placed us together so that we could live our most fulfilled life through lessons that will transcend far beyond the two of us – and be shared, just as I am doing now.
John-Marlon was so selfless and beautiful – he reminded me that I must move on and continue my life. He said he wanted me to remarry and be treated in the most exceptional way. Tears streamed down his face when he shared how he expected a man to treat our children in the future. He cried, yet smiled when he thought of all the time we lost, as we allowed the chaos and noise of the world around us to interrupt the bonding that could have been. Yes, we had fun and yes, we were madly in love with each other for our 15 years together, but pride and the art of surrendering, the absence of faith, spirituality, and God in our hearts, made many of those years unnecessarily painful.
In the end, John-Marlon and I agreed that this is the way our story was meant to end. We had a fairytale ending as far as I’m concerned; I fell in love twice with the man I married. I have no doubt we shall meet again and continue right where we left off.
I wouldn’t change my journey for the world.
I am who I am because of it! Every single little bit of it!