Truth.

I long for Truth. I strive to seek Truth in all I do. I work hard to be truthful with myself and others. I hold fast to the belief that it is Truth, indeed, that will set me free.

And I am so tired of being lied to.

I understand the power of perception. I understand that my take on this divorce and all that has led up to it is much, much different than that of my ex-husband's. I also understand that the reality of this situation most likely exists somewhere in the middle, somewhere between his point of view and mine.

But I pray, quite frequently, for God to reveal Truth to both of us, and for Truth to be revealed to her, as well, because I believe that it is only when we are willing to face the Truth, and, in turn, allow ourselves to be showered in grace that personal healing will truly happen.

But again, I'm tired of the lies.

They frustrate me, they hurt me, they anger me...and they still catch me off guard.

I honestly don't think I'm out of line in asking for honesty. I'm not questioning him about his personal life; I never ask about what goes on when he's on his own. I am merely, and appropriately so, concerned about the whereabouts of my children.

It's actually deeper than that, though. While I do want to know where my children are when they're with him, what I really want is to be able to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he's going to be open and honest with me in all things related to our babies. And I'm just not there yet.

I know my kids are safe when they're with him. I know they have a good time when they're with him. I want them to have a relationship with him. But if you've never been a position in which you are, ultimately, forced to release your kids for extended periods of time to someone who has hurt your heart in unimaginable ways, then I'm not sure how to realistically describe the emotions I experience each time I release them into his hands.

And I definitely don't know how to describe the emotions I experience when my almost three-year-old tells me his day ran a little differently than the way his father described it. And I definitely don't know how to describe the emotions I experience when I confront his father, not for the first time, as to why he isn't truthful with me when it comes to experiences the kids have while in his care, only to have him hang up and refuse to finish the conversation. And I most definitely don't know how to describe the emotions I experience when I allow it to finally sink in that my children are, in fact, spending time with my ex-husband and this other woman on what seems to be a consistent basis.

(I don't, of course, truly know how much or little (if any) time my children are spending with her, but the possibility seems to very strongly exist. I do, however, refuse to put my child in the middle; I'm sure there will come a day when he shares with me who plays with him, and when and if he does, I pray I will have the strength to respond in a way that does not diminish him. Until then, I will not incessantly question him about his "playmates.")

There just simply are no words. Or perhaps there are a multitude of words, all jumbled together into one big experience: jealousy, peace, hurt, strength, anger, confidence, frustration, love, fear, PRAYER. That's more like it.

I'll continue to pray for Truth. And truth. I don't understand my ex's motivation for lying anymore. We're divorced, he's free (or is he?), and there's no way we'll be able to "co-parent" effectively without a little honesty.

Truth, please, Father. Truth and grace. I know I won't make it without those.