A Pilgrim on Peace Mountain

I had not planned to be a hermit. However, there is a time under heaven to do what is right. There is a time to end abuse and to start healing. There is a time to start living and loving life again. The time to cry is over and the time to laugh is just beginning.

I’ve made lists below of the advantages and disadvantages of leaving. I think they are important to review at this point, lest you think I just mindlessly stayed as long as I did. It is also good to review my thoughts and reasoning as I look back over this part of my life.

Some of the advantages of staying were the relative security of having a roof over my head, a place of safety from robbers and mockers, health insurance, church friends, (this was true as long as none of them knew about the abuse), a social life, established patterns, credit, sleeping in a warm bed, a warm house and food, and children pretty much unaware of conditions between their parents because they were no longer living at home. It may seem strange that I mention these simple things that many today take for granted. But as I look around at the growing number of homeless people and whole families out on the street, I realize there are many people who don’t have this choice. I knew what I was doing in leaving these things. To homeless people, I say that I have been where you are.

The disadvantages of staying were constant fear, anger, violence, continually being threatened with money being taken away, even the money I earned. Even though he made good money, he wanted me to buy my clothing at recycle shops. He asked me to sell my antiques and other furniture that I’d inherited from my parents to get money for him. I didn’t. He refused to pay back my inheritance he “borrowed.” Like I mentioned previously, he gave me a mother’s day present purchased at a recycle shop, (six articles of other women’s used clothing). What an insult! Did I mention that he threw out most of my good dresses? Or maybe he recycled them. When we got married I had some very nice clothes. They would just disappear one by one from my closet, one here another there And then he sent me to buy a used sewing machine so I could make my own clothes. I did.

The advantages of leaving were that I had God and I trusted Him, I had my own car (paid for), I had a job, a certificate of deposit, and my mountain property with an abandoned trailer on it. I had been a Girl Scout, so I knew I could survive. I could live by myself and figure things out. I was teachable. I could live quietly, eat simple food, and live on very little. I could buy firewood to burn in my woodstove and oil for my lamps at night.

The disadvantages of leaving were that I had no steady jobs, just seasonal ones, as a fully trained, certified and licensed massage therapist. I also had one year of college and one year of art school but uncertainty in many areas.

The consequences of leaving were that I had no permanent home, no insurance (as I was not old enough for Medicare), little safety, and no social life. I was abandoned by acquaintances and criticized by people. They told me I shouldn’t leave, that this could be fixed. (Should I live as a divorced woman in my own home? Many women do.) Talk about denial! Things just can’t be like everyone else thinks they should be.

I experienced broken relationships. My children were hurt by my leaving. It took years to go through healing in these areas. Mostly it takes forgiveness. I was very thankful that both my parents had gone home to be with the Lord.

The things I learned after I left are what few other people would be willing to learn. I learned that I could trust God to supply all my needs according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus. I learned to listen to Him. The Holy Spirit would speak to me through the Word. The Word gave me peace at night when wild animals were just outside my door. The Word held my world together when the storms raged and the wind blew outside and I had no lightning rods. When I asked God to send His angels to patrol my property and my long driveway and keep unscrupulous strangers and thoughtless hunters off my property, I had a confidence that He did it.

I learned that my needs were different from my wants. I learned that some things are just not important. TV was not important; music was. Running water wasn’t important; having water to drink at all, was. Central heat was not important; having enough wood for my woodstove was. Having electricity was not important; having enough oil to be able to read and write by oil lamps at night was. Cooking on modern, up–to-date appliances was not important; being able to cook at all, on my woodstove, was. Being able to keep my food fresh in an electric refrigerator was not important; being able to get ice three times a week was. Being a couple of blocks from the nearest store wasn’t important; planning ahead for my needs was. Being fifty or a hundred miles away from church wasn’t important; I would drive as far as necessary to be with those who loved Him too.

My mountain neighbors were helpful. Many bore the fruit of kindness that was refreshing. (A divorced woman back then carried shame and a bad name in some communities.) I have to admit that this has changed remarkably in the last two or three decades. Now there are many groups available to help and give direction and shelter to those of us who are unwanted.