Judy Gomoll | SHAW and Encore
Act one
Our Happy Marriage Dies
In 2001, death and betrayal arrived to our family, leaving a slew of bleeding wounds behind. After decades of love and kingdom adventures together, my husband George’s eyes deadened. We’ll call it a midlife crisis—his discovery of pornography, and then serial unfaithfulness. Each shameful disclosure trashed my trust, and I felt profoundly un-chosen. His tears dried up and our duets went silent. What in the world had happened to the handsome lieutenant who had won the colonel’s daughter? Why had he given up the fight?
For ten years we tried to repair and restore our marriage, but through counseling we slowly realized it was dead. To continue, we would need a whole new dance. Instead, things got worse: divorce, followed by a terminal cancer diagnosis. I grieved that he might die in this wilderness and leave a legacy of failure to our spiritual sons and daughters. And I lamented watching my brave pilot-missionary husband spin, crash, and burn in self-destruction.
Act two
God Resurrects It from the Dead
I used to call that dark season the Good Friday of our love, complete with betrayal, passion, tears, and dying. It took years to see resurrection. But miraculously, the weary warrior began fighting for his own heart—and eventually for mine, too. God’s sweeping forgiveness first and my piecemeal forgiveness finally freed George to forgive himself. The Divine Artist began restoring His ruined masterpiece—redeeming new beauty from old ashes.
Our delicious new dance began with a geriatric wedding in our old church, when George sang me down the aisle and each of us chose the other . . . again. Our new marriage was born—and born again! Our Easter dawned.
Act three
God Blossoms Our New Marriage
We nurtured our newborn marriage—a holy task. With new birth came lavish gifts. Fireside talks plumbing new depths. The f-word (fear) … the n-word (never) … the d-word (divorce) were all defanged and discarded as obsolete obscenities. Trust became almost second nature as we experienced vulnerable safety once more. Together we stared down Shame with the withering, winsome gaze of Grace.
My fighting warrior had re-enlisted.
Encore
God Takes George Home
In the fourth month of our new marriage, cancer returned. We had new dance steps to learn: chemo and catheters, walkers and wheelchairs, bedsores and bandages. In the end, he showed me and all who loved him how to die in joyful anticipation of heaven—his failure and shame swallowed up by God’s redeeming grace.
As God promised, I got to walk that warrior home.
This son who never knew his earthly father’s love at long, long last finally heard his Abba Father singing, “Welcome home, Son! I love you! How I love you!”
Amen and Amen!
