It's All About Him (16 page)

Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling,
Calling for you and for me.
See, on the portals, He's waiting and watching;
Watching for you and for me.

Come home, come home,
Ye who are weary come home;
Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling;
Calling, “O sinner, come home!”

Will L. Thompson,
“Softly and Tenderly”

T
he Bible says that if you have even as much faith as a tiny mustard seed and tell a mountain to move, it will. I had no interest in rearranging any geography, but there were mountains in both Alan and me that needed to change. I knew that God had the power to transform us, if we were willing.

Deep inside, I knew that the One I had given my life to at age twelve was not going to let me down. He was with me, no matter what. He was stronger than the challenges we faced. I could trust in Him. Even though I couldn't see how our story was going to turn out, I knew that the end was in His hands.

During this time,my friend Bobbie was praying faithfully for us. Every morning she got up while it was still dark outside. She'd sit at her kitchen table, her open Bible in front of her, and write her prayers in her journal.

“March 3, 1998,” she wrote as she read Psalm 46. “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea . . . There is a river whose streams make glad the . . . holy place where the Most High dwells. God is within her, she will not fall; God will help her at break of day.

“Lord,” wrote Bobbie, “I pray that Denise may be comforted in the holy place, where the Most High dwells . . . that You will be with Denise, that she will not fall. Today, Lord, please wake Denise up with confidence that the Lord Almighty will be her fortress. As she prepares the day for Mattie, Ali, and Dani, let Denise be still and know that You are God!”

Powerful Prayers

Prayer is such a mystery. We don't know how it “works,” how God hears prayers offered up to Him on our behalf and then changes the course of our lives. All I know is that the invisible, whispered prayers of friends, acquaintances, and even Alan's fans were drawing me ever closer to the enormous love and power of God. It was supernatural. It made me realize how connected believers really are. We can have a mysterious unity of spirit, purpose, and communication that exceeds the bonds of friendships that exist solely on a human level.

During these months I read Stormie Omartian's book,
The Power of a Praying Wife.
Each chapter gives Scripture verses and prayers that pertain to specific areas of a husband's life—his protection, salvation, fidelity, finances, temptations, the whole gamut.

Every night after the girls were asleep, I read those portions of the Bible out loud and followed the guidelines in Stormie's book to pray for Alan.
¹

I WAS BEGINNING TO REALIZE THAT HEARTFELT PRAYERS ARE INCREDIBLY POWERFUL—NOT JUST IN HOW THEY CHANGE OTHER PEOPLE OR CIRCUMSTANCES, BUT IN HOW THEY CHANGE
ME
.

In regard to old choices, I would pray, “Lord, please deliver Alan from the past and from any hold it may have on him. Help him to be renewed in his mind Eph. 4:22–23. Enlarge his understanding to know that You make all things new Rev. 21:5. Redeem his past! Bring life out of it! Heal his wounds, and restore his soul! Ps 147:3 and 23:3.”

In regard to our marriage, I'd pray, “God, please protect our marriage from anything that would harm or destroy it. Shield it from our own selfishness and neglect and from unhealthy or dangerous situations. Set us free from past hurts, ties from previous relationships, and unrealistic expectations of one another. Unite us in a bond of friendship, commitment, generosity, and understanding. Please, make our love for each other grow stronger every day!”

I was beginning to realize that heartfelt prayers are incredibly powerful—not just in how they change other people or circumstances, but in how they change
me
. There was no secret formula needed, no “thees” or “thous” or stilted language. The Bible guided me about who God really is, and I realized I could talk with Him as if I were sharing with one of my closest friends, pouring out my heart.

Meanwhile, after our counseling adventures in St. Louis, Alan returned to his rental house and life on the road. We continued to “date,” strange as that was. Sometimes we'd go on midday picnics in one of Alan's old convertibles down the Natchez Trace near our house. Or we'd go to our lake house, where we'd take a ride in an old wooden boat, make dinner, and watch a movie. Sometimes we'd just sit in rockers on the porch of our secluded log cabin, talking and watching the river flow by. We both wanted to make sure that we were doing the right thing before Alan moved back home. The separation had been hard enough for Mattie and Ali the first time. I certainly didn't want them to go through that experience again. I didn't want to relive it either.

As distressed as he was, Alan had continued to work during our separation, not wanting to cancel concerts that were already confirmed. Being on the road and focusing on his work gave him some relief from the conflicting emotions churning inside of him. Music also gave him an outlet. Several of the songs that he wrote just before our separation reflected his mood, particularly the aptly named “Gone Crazy.”

Gone crazy, goin' out of my mind,
I've asked myself the reasons at least a thousand times.
Goin' up and down this hallway, tryin' to leave the pain behind,
Ever since you left me, I've been gone, gone, gone,
I've been gone.

All kinds of people were listening to lyrics like these and drawing all kinds of conclusions as to what was going on in our private lives. As for me, I couldn't listen to country music on the radio, Alan's songs or anyone else's. They hurt too much.

Meanwhile, the tabloids were having a field day. All kinds of things were printed, most of which were not true. Sometimes friends warned me when they saw something in print about our breakup, so I would hear it from them rather than the media. But I never saw or read any of these sensational stories. It was just too painful.

For the first time in my life, I realized how celebrities must feel when the paparazzi prey on them, hoping to get a picture or information they can sell to the rag magazines. Though I never saw people following me, and no one shoved cameras in my face, Alan saw strange cars parked on the street in front of his rental house after dark. He never knew when someone would pop out of the shadows, flashing a camera.

Before, it had never bothered me for photographers to take pictures of us, or for fans to ask for Alan's autograph. It was usually in a public situation, and it was part of the celebrity lifestyle. Alan had always appreciated the opportunity to thank supporters for liking his music and making his success possible. He never forgot who had put him in the spotlight in the first place.

But now people's tactics and intentions were quite different. These weren't fans. These were “professionals” out to make a buck, invading our private lives with the intention of exploiting our personal heartache. They cared nothing for the real story. Nor could they have appreciated the actual realities that Alan and I were going through.

Ejecting Old Tapes

The counseling was over. We had laid out our relationship on the table, and the counselors had analyzed it all, like doctors probing a big pile of intestines or something. Now it was time to put some of that analysis into action. We were moving from the theoretical to the practical. We knew what was wrong with our old patterns; all we had to do was to create new, healthy habits of interacting with each other.

Easier said than done.

As you know, one of the biggest areas for me had to do with my own self-confidence and comfort in my own skin. I had lots of old tapes playing in my head, with destructive themes like “I'm not good enough” . . . “I'm not Alan's soul mate” . . . “I'll never be the right one for him” . . . “He'll never be happy with me” . . . “I'm so dependent, I could never make it without Alan.”

These bad tapes had to be ejected, thrown away, and replaced with new themes that I downloaded from my relationship with God. Through the words of Scripture, He told me, “Denise, I've loved you with an everlasting love, and I will build you up” . . . “I have great plans for you, and I am doing a new thing to give you new freedoms in your marriage” . . .“My grace is sufficient for you—you have everything you need to make it, for I am strong even when you are weak, and I am with you always!”
²

I understood how my dependency on Alan had played such a big role in our breakup, and I had seen my confidence increase over the months of our separation. I'd begun to reestablish my own identity apart from him.

For one, friends and acquaintances had been careful not to bring up Alan when I was around. Their conversations had centered more on me and the girls. Thus I found myself responding as an individual, rather than as the junior partner of a power couple.

Similarly, questions from employees and workers regarding our house and extensive grounds were now directed to me since Alan was not around. I found myself in the role of property manager—a role that had always been Alan's. As I continued in that function, I realized that I was becoming a better decision maker, and that I was much more confident in the choices I made.

But again, could I really change the way I had always related to Alan? I was certainly enlightened as to healthy and unhealthy ways of interacting with a spouse, but would I really be able to put this nice, new knowledge into everyday action?

I would only find out the answer after Alan came home.

Home Again

He lived in our log cabin down by the river for a week or two, and then moved back into our home the first week of May. Tears welled up in my eyes as he told the children that he was here to stay.

“Girls, I want you to know something,” he said. “Fifty years from now, when you are grown and have families of your own, your mama and I will still be together. You don't need to worry.

We'll be right here, sitting in rocking chairs on the front porch together.”

After spending a few moments calculating what in the world Alan and I would look and feel like at ages eighty-eight and ninety, rocking on our porch, I knew that nothing could have made the girls happier than hearing those words.No more rental house, no more time split between parents. Mattie, Ali, and Dani could grow up in the security of knowing their parents were working out their relationship, day by day, and would be together for them as long as God gave us on this earth.

The following Sunday was Mother's Day. The girls and I went to church, but Alan chose to stay home. I assumed that he was just too physically and emotionally wrung out to go with us.

But when we returned home from the worship service, the house was full of the aromas of roast beef, mashed potatoes, fresh green beans and corn, buttery yeast rolls, and warm banana pudding. Alan ushered us into the dining room. He had set the table with our best china and crystal, linen napkins, white candles, and an enormous floral arrangement.

“Happy Mother's Day!” he shouted. The older girls laughed and hugged us both, and baby Dani smiled a baby smile.

I was overwhelmed. Alan's thoughtfulness in wanting to make this day special was just one of the many things he did for me in the weeks and months to come—physical acts of kindness to show me the intentions of his heart. He had made a real commitment to change. He was putting the past behind and making our marriage the best that it could be. He had been away long enough to realize that restoring our relationship was worth the effort that it would require.

Today as I look back on our baby steps in rebuilding our marriage, I sometimes think what our lives would be like if we hadn't started over. I realize that not all situations are like ours, and that there are situations where divorce is warranted. But for us,we knew that God was calling us back to our marriage vows, and that He was giving us a fresh start.

WE KNEW THAT GOD WAS CALLING US BACK TO OUR MARRIAGE VOWS, AND THAT HE WAS GIVING US A FRESH START.

In order to take it, though, we had to do a lot of hard things. I've already mentioned how difficult it was to take off old, well-worn habits that were quite comfortable, and to replace them with new ways of interacting with God and each other. It's hard to get out of old ruts. But we were both committed to doing just that, and it became perversely fun, in a way, to respond to each other in new and different ways.

For example, if we were planning to go out, Alan would ask, “Where do you want to go, Denise? What do you want to do?”

“Oh, Alan, it really doesn't matter, whatever you want to do.”

“No!” Alan would groan. “Don't tell me we went through all that therapy for nothing! What do you
really
want to do?”

Then we'd rewind the conversation
—“?od ot tnaw uoy od tahW ?esineD, og ot tnaw uoy od erehW”
—and start over.

“Sorry,” I'd say.“Let's see, tonight I
really
want to go eat some sushi!”

As you may know from his music, Alan prefers his sushi Southern-fried, so that suggestion wouldn't go over very well.

But the point is, as hard as it was to actually change our decades-long way of relating—particularly on little things—it was also kind of fun to make light of our past dysfunctions. Humor helped us work together to start new habits.

Replacing old habits with new ones was tough. But the absolutely toughest thing we had to do was also the most important: we had to forgive.

Chapter 18
A HARD ROAD

Oh, for the wonderful love He has promised,
Promised for you and for me.
Though we have sinned He has mercy and pardon,
Pardon for you and for me.