ENOUGH

Tiffanie had gone home for the weekend, and I had just gotten the kids down for a nap. It was just me and a quiet house and I was almost excited to have nothing to think about. I couldn’t wait to just relax and not move. I sat down to turn on the TV and turn off my brain. However, just as I found a show to watch, my phone rang. The caller ID showed it was an unknown caller.

     

I was disappointed to interrupt my quiet moment and I was always reluctant to answer calls from anonymous callers because my new reality meant answering random calls from all types of people, including crazies. However, I was also anxious to hear about any progress in the legal case. Everything inside of me was waiting for the trial to be over to be able to move on with my life . . . and any progress brought it closer to its finale.

   

I accepted the call, and sure enough, it was the principle detective on the case calling from the police department. “Ashlee,” he said, “I have some good news. We’ve been waiting and waiting for the results of Emmett’s blood work to come back, and they’ve finally come in. His blood was clean, Ashlee. There wasn’t a sign of anything in his blood but those supplements you told us he was taking. There was none of the stuff the Defense has been trying to suggest he was on. Nothing. His blood was totally clean!”

   

I stared at the floor as he spoke. My mind raced back to that final night and the way Emmett had treated me. “Yeah . . . that . . . that’s good . . . I just thought . . . he . . . yes. No DRUGS. That’s a good thing . . . right? Yeah.  Thanks for letting me know. I’ve also been waiting to hear about the results, and it means a lot that you called to tell me yourself. … It’s hard when everyone else learns about things at the same time as I do, and it’s nice to hear something from you guys . . . before the whole town reads it in the paper and sees it on the news. So thank you. Really, I appreciate your call.”

   

The detective let me know he would call back when any other test results came in to ease my mind about hearing the information from the police first before it was made public,

I hung up the phone. Good news? Right? This was good news . . . wasn’t it? Then why were my eyes burning and my heart pounding? Why was I on the verge of a meltdown?

  

All of the emotions I’d been bottling up about the possibility of drugs being involved came seeping out of every pour of my body. I let out a sigh filled with fear and pain . . . and then took a deep breath. I held it in for a few seconds as it whirled around inside of my lungs. Panic overtook my body.

   

I had to be certain I’d understood the detective correctly. I had to be sure! I grabbed the phone from where it had fallen to the floor and called him back. He answered, “Hey Ashlee . . .did you have another question about the results?”

I burst into tears. “Hey . . . no . . . so . . . what am I supposed to do now? … I . . . I . . . I just kind of hoped . . . that there might have been something . . . anything . . . that they found. Are you absolutely certain he hadn’t been smoking pot . . . or that he hadn’t taken some prescription pills or something. Isn’t there anything? How can there be NOTHING? It just doesn’t make any sense . . . there has to be something! Because why was he yelling at me . . . and why was he acting so distant? …Why was he gone all the time? … Why was he spending time with her? …Why didn’t he want me? It had to be some type of drug . . . or something that was making him act that way. Why was he being so mean to me, and why wasn’t I enough for him? …I need you to tell me that you found something . . . so that it wasn’t me he was rejecting. If he wasn’t taking drugs or doing something else that was altering his thinking . . . then that just leaves HIM. I have nothing to blame for the reason he didn’t want me. This isn’t good news for me . . . like I thought it would be. If there was no sign of drugs . . . it means . . . it means he didn’t want me! I can’t breath . . . I can’t breath . . . I . . . I . . . I just . . . I just hoped . . . a part of me just needed to know that there were drugs in his system, so they could be the reason he wasn’t coming home. … They could be what I’m mad about . . . and they could be what I blame when I look into the mirror tonight . . . all alone . . . and wonder WHY I wasn’t enough.”

   

“Ashlee,” he replied. “I am so sorry.  I . . . I . . . was just trying to help give you what I thought would be some good news for a change. ... I thought . . . I thought this might help you.”

And that was the moment I hated Emmett. I hated everything he was, and everything he’d been in the past. I hated the fact that there weren’t any drugs in his system . . . and that any excuses about why I hadn’t been good enough for Emmett were now gone. There was no longer anything else to blame. I hated the fact that Emmett left me, and I hated that he died. I hated that he refused to see me when I was standing right there, waiting for him. I hated that every time I looked into the mirror I just saw nothing, not because I was nothing, but because he had treated me like I was nothing. I hated hearing his name. I hated the fact that there was a town nearby named E M M E T T, spelled just like his name to the letter. I hated that he chose to share the intimate part of our marriage with another woman. I hated the fact that that other woman had held my baby, and that he had let her! He slept with her . . . not because he was high on drugs . . . but because he wanted to! He did this to me . . . and I hated him for it.

The bitterness swelled inside of me like a sea of ice cold blood. While my babies slept soundly in their rooms, hatred filled my heart. I looked up at our mantel to the giant family portrait that graced the room. I didn’t want to see his damn face. I ran over to the photo and tore it off its perch. It had no place in this room. I had no desire to stare at it any longer. I didn’t want to feel him near me. I didn’t want to hear his voice.

   

I no longer craved his presence at my side, but just in case he was there, I screamed at him to let him know how much I was hurting inside . . . and how much I hated him!

“Emmett . . . I know you can hear me . . . and I need you to listen to me right now. I didn’t deserve any of this. YOU did this to me . . . and I hate you more than anything I have ever hated before. I hate your face, I hate that I gave you my heart . . . and that you ripped it right out of my chest. I hate that I saved myself for you, and that you spit at my feet. I hate that everything I see in this picture means NOTHING to you. You did not deserve us . . . and I hate you for making me believe that I should have shared it with you. I TRUSTED YOU! This family deserved the world, EMMETT . . . and our children deserved to see us live up to all the covenants and promises we made. ... They deserved to know that we believed in them! We created them together, Emmett, to give them a wonderful life . . . and you chose THIS . . . and I hate you for it! YOU did this to us . . . you brought us down . . . and we deserve to fly. WE didn’t push you away! … We were there waiting for you. YOU chose her . . . her? Why weren’t we worth it? …Why . . . why . . . why wasn’t I . . . WHY WASN’T I ENOUGH?”

After that day, I never wore my wedding ring again. As broken as I had felt before, I was now at the lowest point possible. Before that day, in the back of my mind, I truly believed Emmett must have been taking drugs and that I could blame drugs for the changes in him. It wasn’t really that he didn’t want me . . . it was that the drugs had clouded his thinking. But, that call from the detective changed everything. I could no longer blame drugs for Emmett’s behavior, and that hurt more than I could have ever imagined.

   

In addition to never again wearing my wedding ring, I never put that family picture back up on the mantel again. The pain and anger mounting in my heart took on a whole new aspect that day. The feeling of not being enough seemed to be growing deep inside my soul. My hair began to fall out; my skin was a mess. I spent most mornings trying to push the nausea aside long enough to force myself to eat. Hatred was my constant companion, and fear was its best friend.

I remember the first time I really felt hate in my heart. I had been invited to a good friend’s birthday party. She was turning eight years old. I was so excited to go and was counting down the days until the big event. One day at lunch time, on my way to recess, I stopped in the girls’ bathroom and was taking my time in the stall when I heard two girls walk in. It was my friend talking about her upcoming birthday party with another girl. All of the sudden, she said in a snotty little voice, “Well . . . I wish I didn’t have to, but my mom made me invite stupid Ashlee . . . so that is the only bad part . . . but we can still have fun.”

   

Never in my life had I struggled with friends, and I didn’t know what to say or do. I sat quietly, slowly pulling up my feet so that they wouldn’t notice me inside the stall. I stayed in that bathroom the entire recess . . . wishing I could get that feeling of hate out of my heart. I didn’t even cry . . . but just sat there angry that my friend was not really my friend after all. We had made so many great memories together, and I was shocked and hurt that that was how she talked about me when I wasn’t there. It didn’t make any sense to my little third-grade mind. Why didn’t she like me? What had I done to make her not want to be with me? Why wasn’t I enough for her?

  

Since Emmett’s death, I have spent hundreds of hours asking myself those kinds of futile questions . . . questions that cannot be answered. Why wasn’t I enough for Rob? … Wasn’t the fact that I existed . . . another spouse suffering from the pain of infidelity . . . enough for him to know how badly those two bullets would impact me? Bullets. … Why didn’t the fact that he also had children help Rob to understand that he should have used words in their place? At the trial, I would later learn that Rob had reminded Emmett of his five children at home . . . just minutes before he aimed at Emmett’s heart. Why didn’t Rob tell that gun that it had better stay hidden . . . because Emmett was a father of babies . . . babies who still wanted and needed him, in spite of the poor choices he was making? Why weren’t we enough for Rob to just stay home and wait . . . as we were doing.

Why wasn’t I enough for Kandi? She knew I existed. She saw the picture Emmett once proudly displayed of us. She shook my hand and looked me in the eyes. Why wasn’t that picture enough for her to know that Emmett had a great life . . . one that had no place for her? Couldn’t we have been enough for her to just stick to her job description and then go home to her own family?

These three individuals—the creators of the crossroads that destroyed my world—proved to me that I was not enough. Not one of them thought about me as they took that next step along their chosen paths. I was not worth any of their time or consideration.

To all of you who have ever felt like you were not enough for someone else, I want to share what I have come to learn in the last three years. It isn’t about you. It is about the selfishness of others.

     

Emmett didn’t cheat on me because I wasn’t enough for him. … He cheated on me because he gave in to selfish impulses. However, until I found that out for myself . . . I hated him because I believed it was his fault that I couldn’t find myself again. Kandi didn’t have an affair with my husband because she wanted to punish or hurt me. No, she only had one person in mind, and that was herself. Rob didn’t stop to think about me when he reached into his pocket for that gun . . . because he was only thinking about himself and his own anger.

   

Until about four months ago, I walked around with hate permanently implanted in my heart. I dreamed about it, I cried about it, I ran from things because of it, and I couldn’t let myself be fully happy . . . with it in my heart.

Hate will destroy you. Its power is greater than almost anything that has ever brought me down before. Hate will make you want to turn everyone else’s worlds upside down . . . merely to make their views match your own. Hate will take hold of your heart . . . and it will try to ruin you.

My hate was a REACTION to the selfishness around me, and not an ACTION that I intentionally chose.

We must learn that there will be explosions in our faces. In one way or another, there will not be anyone who lives in this world who will not suffer from one of life’s nasty blasts. What I wish I had known before having to walk down the aisles of the school of hard knocks, is that I could have chosen to stand. But I know it now. I can stand. I can stand against hate. I can leave no place for it in my heart. I can stand against the actions of others. I do not have to react to anyone else’s choices, or words. I can stand in the truths that I know. I can stand even when others’ selfishness tries to pull me down.

   

Sometimes—because of the selfishness of others—the answer that is the most difficult to find is to the question: AM I ENOUGH? The damage others may cause us leaves a pain that is hard to console. At times, we are left not only with the fear that we are alone . . . but with the belief that we were not worth fighting for . . . that we were not enough.

     

However, the truth that can prove us wrong in our thinking is always close by. There is a message of hope that we can all seek, and it will teach us what is real:

I am enough, for myself . . . and I am enough for God.

  

Everything else, well . . . frankly doesn’t really matter. Husbands may cheat; wives may leave. Bosses may fire employees; children may mock. Strangers may steal; neighbors may offend. Spouses may die, and tragedies may come . . . but even after the dust settles . . . you are still you. No person or event can take that away from you or determine who you will become.

     

The selfishness of others may make you feel as if you are being thrown into a pack of wolves . . . and you may feel like you are all alone with just a stick with which to fight them off. But . . . YOU ARE NOT ALONE. The wolves may snap at you. They may even take a bite out of your heart . . . without a second thought as to how it might affect you. They may slink away, leaving you to die alone, or they may howl out to the world that you weren’t enough for them. You may be left with nothing but your insecurities and despair . . . and even after the blood dries and the wounds close . . . their voices might still echo in your heart. They may even howl each night at the moon . . . and you may wonder if it is your nothingness that they continue to shriek about. Their powerful wails may be heard for years to come . . . but their lies do not have to define who you view yourself to be.

   

I have two words for you about all the wolves in the world who have tried or continue to try to bring you down: who cares? It doesn’t matter. They don’t matter. Even if you are standing alone . . . at least you are not falling into the darkness with them.

   

Their cries may be overpowering . . . but you do not have to listen. You may feel the darkness as their howling seeks you out . . . but you can move back into the light. You will be presented with many reasons to doubt yourself and Satan will keep sending the wolves . . . over and over to convince you of the worthlessness of your soul . . . but you can remember who you really are. The wolves may claw at your door every hour of every day . . . but you can FIGHT.

     

Satan does not own you, and he hates you for that, but he will continue to send selfishness and hate to consume you. He will send packs of wolves to try to rip you to shreds. FIGHT.

And don’t stop fighting.

  

You are enough. I was enough then . . . and I am enough now. I have to tell myself that every single day. I am not alone, and I am worth dying for. Emmett may not have died fighting for me, but Jesus Christ did.

Every time I want to just give up, and every moment I focus on the fact that Emmett was shot fighting for her . . . darkness envelopes me. All the months I let those thoughts fester and focused on my pain . . . I was literally eaten alive and consumed by hatred. Once I realized that my pain wasn’t worth living with, and that my hatred was not allowing me to breath . . . I felt free. The only way I was going to live through it . . . was by letting it go.

     

I fight the darkness now when it surrounds me. I try hard not to let it find a corner inside my heart for even a second. When I feel it come, I immediately get down on my knees and pray for Christ’s light. I have felt Him send Angels to take my pain back to Him. He promised He would carry me when I could not stand alone . . . and He has. He died for me because I was enough, and He wants me to live for Him . . . because He is all I need. He is enough for me.

      

He wants each of us to know that we are worth dying for. He wants us to know that He loves us. He wants us to fight to be on His side. His way does not always come easily . . . especially when we have made a home for hatred in our hearts. When the “good news” of the world brings you to your knees in pain . . . Christ is the only one who can help you let go of the hate in your heart. The world will tell you that His way is not enough. It will promise you a life full of passion and excitement and lead you to believe that you deserve better than the simple life you are living. The world will try to convince you that it isn’t enough. The world is wrong.

You are the perfect creation of a perfect Heavenly Father. He sent His Son to die for you . . . because you are enough for Him.