“And {s}he will stand for the Lord is able to make {her} stand.” (Romans 14.4, NKJV)

In thinking about my life, if I look at it from one angle, it looks pretty bad.

I’m a widow with no children, few friends, no male companion, estranged from a seriously dysfunctional family, and I work at a job where I don’t really fit in. I walk this world as a disciple for Jesus, which means suffering, pain, being ostracized from the world, and a cross that gets heavier every day. 

Other than two cats and some fish, I’m on my own in this often cold, cruel world.

I struggled mowing the backyard today, my mower sinking deep into the yard still wet from heavy rain seven days ago. I couldn’t get the lever to go all the way up to the highest notch. It got stuck in the middle.

Sweating and cussing, I mowed about one third of it and quit to let it dry out more.  

Problems are never ending. Each broken thing I attempt to fix by google searches, experimentation, and You Tube videos, but when I can’t fix something, which is often, I have to struggle to pay my handymen or let the problem sit, which has meant weeks of dirty dishes piling up when I had a broken kitchen sink, prewashing my clothes since the washer wasn’t getting them clean enough, you get the picture.

But to look at it from the other side, none of that matters because I am independent!

When I can’t figure it out myself, it’s ok to call in handymen because they’re getting paid and I’m getting a service provided for. Better a handyman than a psychopathic or addicted boyfriend which, other than Jake, is the kind of men I’ve always been attracted to.

I’m poor but not dependent on anyone to take care of me. Jesus takes care of me. I did have a few friends help me out financially during Covid, but I didn’t ask them for the money, and I’m currently getting close to paying them back.

And, despite the mistakes I have made, the endless problems, the embarrassment at times due to my inability to figure out simple things, and the solitary walk I am on as a widow, I am still autonomous! And that is a wonderful feeling if I look at it in the right way.

Despite my errors, setbacks, and humiliations, how much worse was it when I was codependent. I gave up my life, freedom, sanity, money, and who I was deep inside to get someone to love me, to care for me. That’s embarrassing. That’s shameful. My life was in jeopardy most of the time.  And the saddest part was the more of myself I gave up, the less I got back. Problems were magnified and made worse.

Due to my childhood, my low self-esteem and then unstable relationships, it truly is a miracle that I am making it solo, and that I survived many of the two decades being a caregiver with little or no help. Falling down is just par for the course. And it’s perfectly OK to fall down as long I’m not expecting anyone but God to pick me back up.

The only safe path for a recovering codependent like me is being dependent only on Jesus, God and the Holy Spirit for everything. Because even when I get it wrong, They are going to fix it at some point.

I’m always on the outside looking in, but when I was surrounded by people, I felt an agonizing aloneness. I rarely feel lonely walking only with Jesus.

Better to fall flat on my face as an independent than to fall flat on my face as a codependent. In the end, only God has the power to save me. He may send me help or lead me to it but it’s He who is orchestrating it. Thank you, God!