Whatever you do, you need courage. Whatever course you decide upon, there is always someone to tell you that you are wrong. There are always difficulties arising that tempt you to believe your critics are right. To map out a course of action and follow it to an end requires some of the same courage that a soldier needs. Peace has its victories, but it takes brave men and women to win them.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Never in a million years did I think I'd be where I am today.  Faced with some very difficult decisions, I press on toward that which is ultimately best for my children.  How does one determine what that is under such circumstances?

Is it best to allow pretense to exist?  Do we simply pretend that all is well, give the children some sense of security, all the while deceiving them and running the risk they'll learn the truth and resent us for it later.  This, of course, has brutal consequences for everyone...mom and dad grow farther apart and the children bear witness to bitterness.  Or do we abandon the pretense altogether and allow them to fully appreciate the magnitude of the situation?  No, of course not.

The other solution is to test the waters of separation.  Hoping to find some resolution to issues past, being apart would allow breathing room.  Time for introspection.  Discovery of what lies beneath.  And the children?  Well, any decision we make will not bring forth the peace and security we long for them...we simply make what seems to be the best choice, and purpose in our hearts to serve them and their needs, not us and our own. 

I do not know what the future will bring...who does?  I do know that God has got my back, that He loves me unconditionally, and that He will take care of my every need and give me strength to press on.  I have great peace with that knowledge.  I do at times tend to worry for my children, however, that's limiting God's love and provision in my life, isn't it?  I must move past the fear that, even though God has lifted my head through all of this, He won't give my children the same measure of grace.  What kind of faith is that?  It's weak...conditional...wavering.  No, I must trust that His compassion is all-encompassing...that it reaches far beyond what I know, and right down into the very core of my childrens' lives and grabs hold of them.  They will be cradled in His arms ever so much more than I can ever hope. 

And there is where I must start...put the paintbrush right back in God's hands and allow Him to bring life again to the work of art He created.