The Faith Journey Series: Not Against Flesh and Blood

By Robin D. D. Holstein

There is no pit deep enough where God cannot reach you, snatch you out, plant your feet back on solid ground, and redirect your steps back into His loving care! Robin thought there was such a pit and that she had certainly found it. Falling headfirst to the bottom of the pit of sin, driven by the deep wounds of betrayal and her sudden onset of rebellion, she thought she had fallen far past the grips of her Heavenly Father. Riding bulls and battling a brain tumor paled in comparison to the upcoming battles Robin would soon face while in the pit. Those trials did little to prepare her for the evasive, subtle enemy awaiting her, lurking in the dark shadows of her deep despair, planning her demise, and threatening to destroy her testimony, her future, and even her life. The strength she would need to face the battles ahead were no match for what little strength she had on her own. It would be not by her own might or power but only through the grace of God, His unfailing love and mercy, and the power of the sweet Holy Spirit working through her that she could face, endure, and overcome the battles that lie ahead and the enemy that was determined to destroy her. Tim spends his lonely days abiding in the supernatural love and care of Almighty God while it took chastening through harsher circumstances for God to get Robin to turn away from her prodigal living and back to Him. God’s unfailing love and relentless pursuit of one of His own finally wins out in the end, proving that not even the most heinous acts that any of His children can commit can thrust them outside of His loving reach and tender mercies. Only then could God unite the two broken hearts for His divine plan.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 9, 2017
• ISBN: 9781640277144

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Faith

Journey Series

Part 3

Not Against Flesh and Blood

Robin D. Holstein

Copyright © 2017 Robin D. Holstein

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

New York, NY

First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc. 2017

ISBN 978-1-64027-713-7 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64027-714-4 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Dedication

I would like to dedicate this book first and foremost to my Heavenly Father for His unconditional love for me, even when I have been unlovable.

To Jesus Christ, for dying on the cross to pay for my sins so that I can have a priceless relationship with Him.

To the Holy Spirit for His comfort, leading, guidance, and direction in my life.

I would also like to dedicate it to my precious family: Tim, my wonderful husband; my four precious children—Charity, Wyatt, Hope, and McCrae—my momma; Daddy; Michelle; Derek; and Cathy.

I love you all beyond words and am so very blessed to have each of you in my life.

Not Against Flesh and Blood

For we wrestle Not Against Flesh and Blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.

—Ephesians 6:12

Introduction

I want to begin by saying, I am not a mystic. I am a Christian, a Christ follower. I do not feel like anyone should focus too much on the spiritual realm around us, not demons nor angels. Christ should always be our focus, and an intimate relationship our first priority; however, we should be aware of the warfare that takes place around us each and every day. How can we guard against or fight something we are unaware of? The Bible tells us to be vigilant in 1 Peter 5:8, Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.

If we are to beat the enemy we must be aware of his existence and be careful not to underestimate his power, while all the while keeping in mind that God is in control and that we, through the power of Christ working in and through us, have authority over the evil one whom Jesus has already defeated when He died on the cross and rose Himself from the grave.

I’ve seen Christians get too caught up in having too much interest in angels or maybe enjoying—in an unhealthy spiritual way—discussing and being too interested in demons. This book is not intended to feed these interest, but rather to educate and make aware of what we are up against, more importantly to show Christ’s authority over those powers, His relentless pursuit of His children who fall under the bondage and many strongholds that Satan seeks to snare us with.

On the flip side of that, I have seen Christians go to the other extreme, cringe at the very mention of these topics, and shy away from any such discussions. I believe that this too is not a healthy way to lead a spiritual life. We definitely need to live in awareness so that we are ready to put on our spiritual armor and put our battle plan into action at a moment’s notice because any good soldier knows that a smart enemy will attack you in your weakness when you least expect it, and furthermore, they already have their plan of attack ready to implement when temptation strikes.

Christians should be horizontally aware while vertically focused.

That being said, this is my personal account of living in the crossfire on the spiritual battlefield on a more personal level than most people ever experience. Through my personal and extreme experiences, I hope to bring the warfare that we each face to your awareness, and hopefully the extremity of it will show the importance and urgency of looking to God for your strength in overcoming the enemy.

I’ve often wondered why God allowed me to experience these personal encounters with demons—why me? After hearing so many other peoples’ wonderful experiences on visiting heaven resulting from an accident or serious health issue where they live to tell about it. For example, the accounts in the books Heaven Is for Real, 90 Minutes in Heaven, and Appointments with Heaven. There may be some skeptics about these type of accounts, but an interesting thing I noticed, all accounts seem to closely resemble each other in detail. I don’t think this is mere chance. And there are the other supernatural occasions where people interact briefly with angels—like my dad in the story I told about in book 1: Not by Might. All these wonderful stories and then I had to have personal experiences in which I saw, heard, and smelled demons. But then again, why not me? We hear so many of the wonderful stories and miraculous accounts. Maybe—just maybe—God, through me, wants His children to be aware of the other side so that we can be vigilant. And perhaps, going out on a limb here, I wonder if maybe my senses were opened to things that most peoples are not as a result of my state of desperation that I was in. I believe desperation for God produces or allows an extra-heightened spiritual sense that opens physical senses. I may be wrong, but I feel that is a possibility. I believe that desperation for God through desperate circumstances causes us to see things on a different level.

In Jeremiah 29:13, God’s Word tells us: And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart. When it comes from our heart, all our heart, then it is true desperation, and we find God. Sometimes we find Him as He rescues us from the danger, from the enemy, from ourselves. In those cases, we may never have seen Him so clearly unless He came in the form of a hero, a rescuer, a Savior—just as He did on the cross, for everyone. But in certain personal circumstances, He drives it home in a way that is powerful and meaningful to us personally; it leaves a mark. It makes a lasting impact.

Go somewhere with me for a moment. Imagine going to war. You are completely unaware of the enemy’s tactics and strategies. An enemy who is an expert on you, he knows all your strengths, your weaknesses, he’s been observing you since the day you were born, studying you. An enemy whose passion, whose only driving force, is to destroy you. Now, to make it worse, imagine fighting him blindfolded, not knowing where this relentless expert on you is or what his next move will be—would you willingly do this?

You do, every day. Everyone does. The Bible tells us that the real war we fight is the war for our souls before we become a child of God, our testimonies, and the difference that we can make for Christ, and we fight this battle every day. It is a war in which good versus evil. It is not with who or what we can see; it is with Satan and his army. It is spiritual warfare with him and his demonic forces that we are almost always oblivious to. I know firsthand because I’ve heard them, smelled them, and even caught a glimpse of these evil soul predators.

This third installment in the Faith Journey Series gives you my personal experiences that take place in the unseen spiritual realm around us, what the Bible calls spiritual warfare.

Please note that some of the characters in this book have been assigned fictitious names in order to protect and respect their privacy.

Last Chapter of Faith Journey Part 2

Not Unto Death

Chapter

16

Not Unto Death

An Open House,

a Collapsed Home

I made it back to the farmhouse in just enough time to shower and dress for open house. I never understood why the school insisted on having it on a Sunday afternoon, but whatever. School wouldn’t even be starting until Friday.

As I approached the turnoff to the road leading to the school, I saw Jake’s truck sitting in the gas station parking lot. I hesitated, not sure if seeing him was a good idea since lately it seemed to always end in disaster, but I impulsively decided to stop anyway. He was about to get into his truck when he saw me. He smiled and began walking toward my car, as if nothing were wrong between us. I was in a hurry, so instead of getting out, I just rolled down my window.

Hey, what’s going on? I asked, void of any emotion.

Ah, I’m just fixin’ to go buck some practice bulls out for some of the boys. Hey, when I’m done, you want me to come up to the house and see you? he asked, seemingly very happy.

Um, sure, okay.

He sure is in a good mood, looks like Dr. Jekyll is back, I thought.

We talked a few more minutes about not much of anything, then I smiled and said, I better get going, we have open house at the school today.

All right. Here, have a T-shirt, he said, flinging a waded-up, crisp, new white T-shirt through my window to me. Don’t ever say that I never gave you anything, he teased.

Yeah, anything but a marriage, I thought sarcastically.

What’s this for? I asked, shaking it out and holding it up.

New company shirt, he said grinning, obviously proud of his name and the Bar G Rodeo Company logo displayed on the front.

Thanks, I’ll be sure to go to the bathroom and change into it before my new school kids and their parents arrive, I teased in a smart-aleck tone.

He nodded and smiled in approval as he slapped my car and backed away.

I’ll be over there later this evening when we get done, he called over his shoulder, walking back toward his truck.

I was feeling pretty good about our little encounter when I pulled into the school parking lot. I went inside and made my way into the cafeteria for our initial, first-of-the-year teachers’ meeting. I found a seat a few chairs down from Jessica just as the principal came in and began to get everyone’s attention. She gave her typical Let’s get this year off to the right start speech and gave us our instructions for greeting parents and their children. Just as she was dismissing us, it hit me that Jessica had not only not spoken to me but hadn’t even looked in my direction. Not one time during the whole faculty meeting had she even acknowledged me.

Once we were dismissed to go to our classrooms, Jessica got up and pretty much speed-walked down to her room. I casually followed the flood of teachers exiting the cafeteria, wondering why she was acting so strangely when that sinking feeling of dread that I was beginning to get far too used to living with filled my chest and the pit of my stomach—only this time it was far worse than ever. It was so heavy, in fact, that I felt like it was a struggle to even breathe or swallow. Nausea filled the pit of my stomach, and I struggled to appear calm as I saw the wave of parents and children anxiously making their way down the hall and toward the classrooms.

For the next two horrendous hours, I greeted them and tried hard to pay attention to all the glorious details about their wonderful children who would grace my classroom with their presence for upcoming school year as the sick feeling inside me only intensified.

Finally, four o’ clock came. I was in the hallway just saying a gracious goodbye to my last visitors for the day when I saw Jessica waltz by me and head toward the bathroom. I went back inside my classroom to straighten up and pick up my things before leaving. A few minutes later, I heard my door open. I turned to see a sheepish-looking Jessica coming in and closing my door quietly behind her.

I froze in the midst of gathering my purse and asked, What’s wrong? not sure if I wanted to know.

It seemed that every time I received news lately, it was getting worse each time, and suddenly this whole situation felt like the worst kind of awful.

I need to talk to you, Jessica’s voice sounded quiet and a little breathy.

This is really bad, I thought.

Sure, what’s up? I tried to sound normal, but I felt far from it.

Um, I don’t know how to tell you this. Uh, maybe you should sit down, she said, looking as pale as I was feeling.

No, just tell me. Whatever it is you got to say, just say it.

I knew she was about to deliver the piece of horrific information that I’d sensed the moment I had sat down in that cafeteria, like someone had died, and I knew it had to do with Jake. Now I really felt a queasiness in my stomach and a heaviness in my chest like never before.

This is not easy for me to tell you…

Just say it, Jessica! I was surprised at how my voice came out in almost a yell.

She inhaled deeply. Jake’s been seeing someone else. She exhaled loudly and studied me with a sorrowful look to see if I was comprehending what she was saying to me.

At that moment, as realization sank in, it felt like someone had just thrust a knife deep into my chest.

Who is it? my voice was now more of a whisper, and I could feel blood draining from my face and felt dizzy.

I sank into the closest student desk, no longer feeling that I could support my own weight. That was it; not someone but something had died: our marriage, once and for all right there in my classroom.

Without warning, the floodgate of tears opened once again, and there was no stopping them.

Evilyn Strange. His truck has been seen at her house all summer long.

That trash? I think I’m gonna be sick.

One hand went to my stomach and the other over my forehead.

How could have I missed this? All the signs were there. How could have I been so stupid as to put foolishly credit Jake with faithfulness?

How do you know? Who saw them? I asked in a now-calmed voice, through the endless tears that now freely streamed down my face and into my lap.

Mrs. Bowen. She said they were even stupid enough to leave her double wide trailer door open so people driving down the road could see them wallowing all over each other on the couch, she said, sounding almost as disgusted as I felt.

Mrs. Bowen was one of the teacher parapros whom I deeply admired and respected. I knew if it had come from her that it was not just mere gossip.

Jessica continued, She was going to tell you herself, but I asked her to let me do it. I’m so sorry, Robin.

I have to get out of here, I said, getting up quickly and regathering my things.

I knew the tears were not going to stop anytime soon. I wasn’t sure if they ever would. As I reached for my car keys, the door opened, and a woman stepped inside with her little boy.

Geez, can’t they knock? Don’t they know what a closed door means and that open house is over? This is just great, there’s no end to this nightmare, I thought as Jessica headed them off and ushered them out the door.

I quickly turned my back to hide my tear-stained face.

Mrs. Gentry is sick, I think she is suddenly coming down with… I heard her voice trail off as she shut the door, making apologies for me.

Robin, you have got to pull yourself together. Go home, you can fall apart there where no one can see you.

I wiped my face and blew my nose as I forced the horrifying images of Jake with some strange and horrible woman out of my head. Jessica came gingerly back into the room.

I called my mom and asked her to come get your car. I don’t think you need to be driving right now. Just come on home with me.

I didn’t argue. I couldn’t think. Jessica peered out into the hall.

Let’s just slip out that back door in my room, no one will even notice.

I nodded and quickly followed her to my escape.

Once in Jessica’s car, the tears began to flow freely again.

"Why, Jessica, why? I never dreamed he would do that to me. I gave him too much credit! I would never do something like that! I asked between deep sobs. Why? Why would he do it?"

I don’t know, Robin, I honestly don’t know.

I stayed at Jessica’s house long enough to allow the shock to settle in, then once again forced myself to pull it together.

I’ve got to go home.

This time my voice reflected new feelings of anger that were quickly arising inside of me.

What are you going to do? Jessica asked wide-eyed.

Make him face me.

Where is he right now?

At the arena at our old trailer with his precious fan club and bulls.

Are you going there?

I thought for a minute. "Ya know, I’m not sure if I should. He’s not expecting me, and if she is there, then I’m likely to jump her, and someone would have to pull me off her, it would be really ugly."

My mind raced.

No, if she is there, and I know I won’t be able to use self-control, then I need to get him to come to me in private. I’ve got more class than to stoop to her level, behave like the trash she is and cause a public scene, though absolutely nothing would give me more pleasure than planting my fist in her face or my foot in his balls. I’ll go to Repton and try to convince him to come up there.

I’m going with you.

I could tell by her tone that I had no choice.

Jessica followed me home and into my house. She watched wide-eyed as I picked up the phone and punched in Jake’s cell number.

"I need you to come home, we have to talk now!" I said as soon as he answered. I was surprised at how calm and authoritative my voice came out.

I’m bucking bulls for the boys right now. I told you I would come when I’m finished, Jake said, obviously irritated.

"This is bull! I’ve taken a backseat to them boys for over five years now. You come home right now, or I am leaving you!" Now I was raising my voice.

I don’t like your tone, he said hatefully.

Well, I don’t like the way I’ve been treated for the past five years!

"

I will come when I am finished

," he raised his voice, enunciating each word.

"Well, I won’t be here, and I hope that stupid whore was worth it!"

Who? What are you talking about?

Evilyn Strange!

I don’t know what you’re talking about, he said flatly.

You most certainly do! I know for a fact that you’ve been skirtin’ around behind my back with that white trash all summer, huh, maybe even our entire marriage, if that’s what you call it. If it’s not true, then you best be getting your butt over here and convince me that it’s not.

I’m not coming until I’m finished, I told you.

I paused a moment, then lowered my voice, Well, I won’t be here. So I guess this is goodbye then.

I guess it is. Jake said angrily. I hung up before giving him a chance to say another word.

Immediately I pulled my bags that I had just recently put away out of the closet and began throwing clothes and anything else I could grab into them. I replayed the whole conversation for Jessica as she helplessly followed me from room to room.

"I have to go. I have to show him that I mean what I say. Besides, our marriage is over. I can forgive a lot of things, but cheating is not one of them, it’s over, and he’s the one who quit, not me!"

You’re going back to Atlanta? she asked.

I have nowhere else to go, I exhaled loudly, feeling defeated.

You can come home with me, she said hopefully.

I hugged her as, once again, tears reappeared.

You’ve been a great friend to me, Jessica. I couldn’t have asked for better. But I have to go home, there is nothing left for me here, not anymore.

Will you call me when you get there?

Of course.

I called my mom and let her know that I was coming and that my and Jake’s marriage was over and nothing more. The long drive back to my parents’ house seemed endless. It consisted of alternating intervals of crying almost uncontrollably, then yelling and pounding the steering wheel, blaring the radio with the windows down with a newfound hatred for Jake and his trashy lover brewing inside of me.

I even felt a fury toward God I had never felt before. I found myself yelling at Him, You promised you would take care of me. You were supposed to protect me. How could You let this happen, aren’t You supposed to take care of Your children? How could you? How could You let this happen? then back to uncontrollable tears. And on it went for six hours straight.

When I calmed down a bit, I called up Luke on the phone.

He did it, he cheated on me. And not with just anybody but the filthiest whore in the whole town, that Evilyn Strange, or whatever her name is, I blurted out as soon as Luke answered the phone.

Where are you? he asked.

On my way back to Georgia. I can’t just go to my parents’ house and sit, I’ll go crazy.

I have an idea, I’ll come pick you up when I get off work, and we’ll go hang out down by the river. You can tell me all about it.

"Bring some wine, will ya? I think I’m gonna need it. Lots of it!"

I knew that drinking was not the right way to handle my grief, but I didn’t care. I needed something to soothe the gaping hole left in my chest. Unfortunately, this would begin a rebellious downward spiral that would open the door for the ever-present source of spiritual warfare and the temptations that would lead to demonic strongholds that could’ve very possibly led to my final destruction, if not for the grace of God.

Chapter 1

My Story Continued

Home Again

August 5, 2001

There are no words, literally, no words to describe what a person feels after such a detrimental and heart-wrenching betrayal. The one person—the one—who was supposed to love me until death, through it all, good and bad, decided that I was no longer good enough. No longer enough. I had put my heart on the line the day I said I do, put it all on the line when I gave myself over completely to one person in full confidence, believing that I was completely safe and in loving hands… What a miserable blow to have that cruelly and blindly snatched away in just a moment.

Betrayal, rejection, abandonment, deceit were the best words I could summon to remotely describe the hell I was going through, and they were Jake’s acts against me that left my heart and soul inconsolable. That was the very biblical meaning of the name Jacob (Jake) Gentry—deceiver—and he had lived out these qualities to heart-wrenching perfection. It was the very essence of who he was: a liar and manipulator driven by his own selfish agenda. How did I ever get so ensnared and sucked in by the likes of him? Truly, love is blind. I would not know until much later on that God would use these harmful qualities of Jake, which caused such horrific pain, as a useful tool in the future to accomplish the purposes that He would set before me. At this moment, I only knew the sting—the suffocating pain that seemed to engulf and consume me. It was all I knew at the moment; would it never go away? I felt cursed. My soul was ripped to shreds, and I couldn’t foresee any way that it would ever mend. Truly, this was the deepest, darkest pit in existence for the mortal being of life on earth. Death would have been a great relief.

So here I was. I had just lost everything: my home, my friends, my job, my animals and entire way of life, part of my family, and the man who was supposed to love me for better or worse. I had just left nearly everything I loved; my entire life had been snatched away.

To say I was hurt was mild in the extreme. I was shredded; the very life blood of my soul was bleeding out to leave only a deep void of nothing. As far as I was concerned, not only life but I as I had known myself—my dreams, my hopes, my visions—they all were dead. I was dead inside, a walking spiritual corpse.

When I finally pulled into the old, familiar driveway around 9:30

pm

, I felt numb as I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror. I didn’t recognize the image peering back at me. With bloodshot and swollen eyes, tear-streaked makeup, red nose, I gazed at my reflection. The emptiness in my eyes revealed what I felt inside: hollow. I sat in my car for a few minutes, trying to once and for all digest what was happening to me. Everything I had ever feared had come upon me, yet I was not relieved of such deep pain through death. I was still here to pick up the pieces—still here, as a living and stinging reminder that even so, when you think not, it can get worse; you can live through it and with it. I was reminded of Job. Only I felt nothing of the presence of the Holy Spirit. Had I pushed Him away with my anger? To the point that He had no desire to offer me any comfort? I felt completely alone and abandoned in every way.

I had heard once that divorce is worse than death. Certainly, that depended on the individual and the specific circumstances. I had never lost anyone that close to me in death, but the best description that I could give for my inevitable divorce was that it was an all-consuming sadness—a grief so deep that the core of your very soul is completely inconsolable. This was a certain outcome for the rejected spouse that loves and feels on a level too deep to describe. This was not how God had intended it to be. Perhaps that is why the Bible spoke so strongly against it because God knew of the devastating outcome that it would have on His children, and surely He was completely against anything that would cause His children such pain. I knew this; however, I still felt an anger toward Him as I had never before felt.

As if by some mechanical force beyond my own will were driving me, I trudged—feeling beat down and totally dejected—into the house without pulling a single suitcase or bag out of my car. I walked straight into the den and hopelessly collapsed on the couch. I don’t remember what my mother said to try to console me after I’d laid out the morbid details of the day. I’m sure she did the best she could.

The next thing I remember I was lying down upstairs in my old bedroom, crying as I watched Sandra Bullock live out my life in ironic similarity on the silver screen of the little TV in that bedroom in the movie Hope Floats while waiting for Luke to come to my rescue. I dabbed at my tears with a tissue to keep from messing up my newly made makeup repairs. Toward the end of the movie, I heard Momma call to me upstairs to let me know that Luke was there.

Luke and I drove down the old trail that led to the river near my parents’ house, making small talk. I’m not sure what we talked about or how I was holding it together and being capable of normal conversation. I felt numb—just going through the motions of living. When the path became too narrow to drive, we got out and walked the rest of the way. It was a perfect night with a full moon and a cloudless sky; the temperature couldn’t have been more pleasing—a night I would have thoroughly enjoyed given any other circumstances.

Luke led me to the most perfect spot in the river. There was a staggered, cascading waterfall with rocks large enough for us to hop from one to another until we found a perfect flat, smooth one to sit on in the middle of it all. Luke brought two very large one-liter bottles of strawberry wine. We had been making small talk, and he had been joking around until this point. When we were seated on the rocks, he opened one of the bottles and passed it to me.

Okay, tell me all about it, he said as if he had been personally appointed to pick up my pieces.

Luke had always been such a good friend to me in high school.

I took a long swig of the wine, squeezed my eyes shut, and swallowed hard then set it between my crossed legs. Luke opened the second bottle and took a sip, listening patiently as I proceeded to fill him in on all the horrific details—from how I learned of Jake’s infidelity at open house, to the phone confrontation with him in Repton, ending with the six-hour drive from hell back to Georgia.

I suppose I wasn’t enough for him. I sighed after recapping the day’s events for him. I continued, "Or maybe I was too much for him. He obviously wanted a whole lot less going after that cheap trash. Ya know, I was just too naive to believe that he would actually cheat on me. I would have never done that to him, but I really would have never guessed that he would do it with a woman like that. I mean, that’s really stooping pretty low, downgrading, don’t you think?"

I’ll say. He was stupid to let you go, period, but especially for someone like you described. He really just has no clue what he had. There are tons of guys that would kill to have a wife like you, Robin, Luke said, leaning playfully into me, bumping my shoulder with his.

"Ya know, there are a lot of things that I could forgive, that I did forgive, but cheating… when hell freezes over! I took another long swig of the sweet wine. I’m really pretty angry at myself for being so stupid. I mean, all the signs were there. His own mother, I think, tried to tell me in her own way. I was just too stupid to get it."

No, you weren’t, you were just willing to see and believe the best in him because you love him. That’s what real love is, looking past the bad and seeing the good. Not too many people do that. Clearly, he has no idea what he had.

Thanks, but let’s not mistake stupidity for some other honorable trait.

I don’t know a person on earth who would blame you for leaving him, though. I know I sure wouldn’t stay with someone whom I couldn’t trust to be faithful to me, Luke concluded.

I was beginning to feel the effects of the wine a little, and I liked it a lot.

Was leaving cowardly? Should I have driven to where he was and made him face me? I need to know that I did what was right, I asked wistfully, staring off into the past scene from earlier today that I could still see in my imagination so vividly, mentally replaying the entire scenario.

I don’t think so. No, I think you did exactly what you should have done. It’s what I would’ve done, Luke said thoughtfully.

It had to have been right. No good could’ve come from me going to him. I mean, there’s a chance that she might’ve been there, and I know I couldn’t have used self-control. I’d have hurt her, him too. Plus, I wouldn’t ever want to be guilty of behaving like the white trash she is. Also, telling Jake he needed to come to me was a test, and he failed. I knew when he wouldn’t come to me that it was over.

I thought momentarily then continued, No, leaving was my only choice. He gave no indication that he wanted me to stay. Even if he had, I still would’ve left. But is there something that I could have done differently in our marriage? I always tried really hard to be the best wife I could be, from helping him build his stupid dreams—whether building a barn or a rodeo business. I helped with everything—building corrals, putting up fences, baling and picking up hay, helped nail the stinking roof on the barn, helped work the rodeos. I even put up with his stupid friends—cooking for them, letting them come, go, and even spend the night as they pleased. I even cut their stupid hair! I sighed miserably. I doubt that little tramp will do any of that.

Luke was quiet for a few seconds then said, He’ll realize one of these days what he had, and then he will live with regret the rest of his life, no other woman on earth would do what you did.

I know I wasn’t perfect. I mean, I know I could have nagged less, and I really did try to be patient.

Luke thought for a minute. I would take the nagging as a sign that you cared, if I were him. If you didn’t love him, then you wouldn’t have cared if he had spent more time with you, and you wouldn’t have nagged at him.

He even made the comment to me at one point that being married to me ‘just got old.’ Well, it got old to me too, but I’m not a quitter—that’s where we differ. But I would’ve never cheated on him and thrown our marriage away out of boredom. I sucked down another long swig.

Well, that just shows his level of maturity. Sounds like he needs to grow up, Luke said, shaking his head.

I’ll say, I agreed

But ya know, Robin, guys like that usually never grow up.

I sighed. "I’m sure you’re right. I don’t know anything anymore, and I have no idea what I’m going to do now. I mean, I have just uprooted my entire life and moved away unexpectedly all in a matter of one day. I’m going to resign from my job. School starts this Friday, and I know I’m putting them in a bad position to have to replace me in just a few days, but I don’t have a choice. I cannot go back. I refuse to go back. There is nothing there for me. I don’t have a job or even a life here either. I feel like I don’t belong anywhere. I just don’t know what I’m gonna do."

You’ll figure it out. One thing is for sure, you’re not alone, Luke said, putting an arm around me.

"Ya know what the Bible says about a strange woman? It says that a whore is a deep ditch and a strange woman is a narrow pit. Funny, huh, that Evilyn’s last name is Strange. If the shoe fits…" I sighed.

"That’s very ironic. Downright strange if you ask me," Luke said, laughing a little.

We stayed down by the river talking and drinking until the bottles were empty and I was just over the edge of being drunk.

The next morning, I called my principal to let her know that she would need a replacement for me. Thankfully, the first day of school wasn’t until Friday, so she had a few days to find someone. I explained to her the whole situation and apologized for the unprofessional nature of my resignation, but she was very understanding and assured me that she would have Jessica box up any of my personal items in my classroom for safekeeping until someone could pick them up for me.

After I had begrudgingly taken care of that dreaded business, I packed up, yet once again to head to Alabama, to Troy this time. I had spoken with Lila, and she offered to let me spend the night with her. Then she and I would head to the home I had just left to collect more of what I couldn’t live without that wouldn’t fit in my car the first time. Lila had been through a divorce with her first husband right before everything went south between Jake and me, and she had just recently gotten engaged to another guy so at this point, she was living single. I spent the night at her house. Then early the next morning, we were both up and heading toward Repton.

During our separation, Jake had given me one of our old, crappy, dilapidated trucks and told me that I could have it—more goodwill and charity generously donated by Jake to my heartbreak fund. It wasn’t worth much, but now I was glad to have it. The plan was that Lila would drive it back with all the stuff we could fit into it, and she would keep it at her place until I could later retrieve it from there. I prayed the whole way that I would not run into Jake, that he wouldn’t be there by some sick twist of fate.

When we pulled into the drive of the sad, old farmhouse, I let out a sigh of relief that his truck was not there. Lila and I went inside the eerie, unlit house. It already seemed empty, despite the furniture and stuff that remained. Not surprising, it was love that made a home. In this home, love had been replaced by betrayal. Neither Lila nor I spoke at first, the atmosphere giving place to a solemn state of mind as if being at a funeral.

As I walked into our bedroom, I saw the only evidence that Jake had been there since I had left: our large print family Bible placed open in the middle of the bed with a handwritten note lying on top of it. I lifted the note. It read,

Robin, Please don’t let no one make you throw us away. I love you more than anyone. Love, Jake

I tossed the note beside the Bible, rolled my eyes, and felt the invisible knife drive deeper.

No, Jake, you are the one that threw us away, and apparently, you don’t love me more than anyone. You chose her over me by not coming when I challenged you to convince me it wasn’t true, I thought.

I looked down at the Bible. It was opened to Psalms 88. Jake had put a star by chapter 88 and had underlined verse 18: Lover and friend hast thou put far from me, and mine acquaintances into darkness.

No, you still have your lover, but most certainly, you have lost your best friend, I thought resentfully.

Later it got back to me that Jake and his posse had apparently come to the house that night before and he had asked the guys to give him a few minutes inside alone when he realized that I had meant what I said—that I had left him.

Come on, Lila, we got work to do, I said seriously as I began making my rounds throughout the house, gathering everything I could find that I wanted to salvage.

Lila and I worked until we had both vehicles loaded down. The last thing I loaded was my beautiful Easter lily that I had gotten from my granny’s funeral a few years back when she had finally lost her battle with Alzheimer’s. It was the only real plant that I had been able to keep alive. I had never had a green thumb, but somehow that lily always managed to survive my novice horticultural skills, and it had grown so big and beautiful since I had it. Unfortunately, both the cab of my car and the cab of Lila’s truck was completely full, so I put the lily in the bed of the truck, hoping it would survive the trip.

Without so much as a goodbye note, or gesture of any kind, Lila and I headed back to Troy. Only a nearly empty house gave evidence to the fact that I had been there. Jake didn’t deserve any more than that.

I drove behind Lila to Troy, watching my treasured Easter lily being stripped of all its beautiful foliage, battered in the journey as