I'm as absorbed as anyone currently in the Mica Miller case. According to reports, Mica Miller had filed multiple times for a legal separation from John-Paul Miller. But she repeatedly returned to him, or so it seems from the sketchy reports and timelines I've gathered.
I can relate to what reads like an on-again, off-again relationship. I too lived that way for far too long, my Christian faith and commitment to the ideals of marriage combined with devotion to my abuser kept me stuck.
It seems apparent from what I've read online about Mica, in the quiet corners of her heart, she wrestled with tumultuous storms raging within. She was a pastor's wife so it makes sense she had to keep her struggles close to her heart. But it's apparent, as a devout Christian, she clung fiercely to her faith like a lifeline amidst the crashing waves of her troubled marriage. Time and again, she had prayed fervently for strength and for guidance.
But as the days stretched into months, and the months into years, the whispers of doubt grew louder, echoing in the chambers of her soul. She couldn't ignore the reality of what was really happening in her life.
How does a woman reconcile the teachings of her faith with the harsh reality of infidelity and a crumbling marriage? How does she honor her vows once they had become chains binding her to a loveless existence?
I too, was separated, but pretended to have the kind of marriage most did--living together. I found it difficult to say I was separated. I was living a double life.
I recall when Randy left me for perhaps the third time, he said a friend asked him if he had a legal separation. The friend went on, "If you don't, she can take everything."
I laughed. What was there to take? He was back in school. He didn't have a steady job. I was supporting myself. If anyone was to be worried about money, it should have been me.
The weight of my own Christian expectations that pressed down upon me at that time were suffocating my spirit on an ongoing basis.
They say Mica's death was self-inflicted. My pain was self-inflicted too as I felt trapped in my façade of a life. There were deep bruises in my heart, scars upon my soul, turmoil in my spirit, and a truth I could eventually no longer deny. I would become a statistic. I would become divorced.
For too long, I struggled in silence aching for the answer to come from God above clearly so I could break free from the chains that bound me. I wanted permission to take the next legal step. It was a long and slow process.
And so, at last, like Mica Miller did, with trembling hands and tear-stained cheeks, I made the agonizing decision to walk away and set a strong boundary. Alas, I said to myself, "No more games! This is it."
And, I was set free. She was not. She died.
Please read my story--as tedious as it is, in my low-priced eBook available on Amazon.
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