Some of the descriptions here may sound familiar to some of you. It is not the same story as before, but the people involved are the same. All that happened that night, and since, has bothered me more than anyone can know. There was nothing I could have done that night but, maybe if I had been more forceful before….well, the story.

         I first met Betty when she was twenty years old. Married already, I was struck by her good heart. She obviously adored her husband, although I wondered what it was about him that lit her fire. That happens often, though. Two people who seemed so different, yet they come together. I had known her husband a long time and he really liked his beer and marijuana and didn’t mind getting into a fight now and again. Usually at a bar when his enjoyment of drink got the best of him. I had heard he had gotten married and I was looking forward to meeting his wife just so I could see what kind of hardnosed woman would have him. Betty was a shock.

         Grew up in church, a caring and compassionate girl who had given her life to Christ in her early teens. So sweet it almost seemed fake, but there was nothing fake about Betty. As the years went by we only saw them now and again, but Betty was always the same.

         They had two children, a boy and a girl, and they were brought up in church. They loved their Mom and their Dad, but they were well aware of their father’s problems. You see, he had set his sights on Betty and started going to her church. She had fallen in love with him and they had gotten married and then she found out it was a sham. Betty suffered humiliation and shame and even some physical abuse, but we didn’t find out about that later. At least I didn’t find out until later. There was a time, a long time, actually, when Marsha was a wonderful Pastor’s wife and I believe Betty confided in her.

         The years rolled by, as years do. Word filtered down that there were real problems. Then there was some infidelity on the husband’s part and Betty could not go on. It killed her inside to do it, but Betty left him. She felt she had let her kids down, her family down and his family down. For Betty, however, the greatest feeling of shame was that she felt she had let Jesus down. Like many women in that situation, she could blame only herself.

         Then came that night, I guess fifteen years ago, Betty was watching their grandson for overnight. Around midnight the front door was kicked open and her husband barged in. He grabbed Betty and began to beat her with the butt of a shotgun and his fist. She had several broken ribs, almost all the bones in her face were shattered, a cracked skull, one ear nearly ripped off and dangling. He told her he was going to blow her away and the baby with his 12-gauge shotgun. Fortunately, all the yelling he was doing and all the screaming she was doing and all the wailing the baby was doing alerted a neighbor, who called the police. The police arrived just before he could fire his gun.

         We were at my sister’s house for a cook out when my sister told me what had happened. It wasn’t clear yet whether Betty would live or die, but the baby was safe. I felt I had been kicked. Marsha wore the same face I wore. Totally stunned.

         Betty went through several reconstructive surgeries. Her recovery was long and slow. Even then, in a letter to me, she couldn’t bring herself to blame her husband. It was the alcohol or the drugs or the fact that they had split up. Betty thought I would hate her. Her mother in law did hate her and she tried to turn her family against Betty. She claimed that Betty had been having affairs for years. Anyone who even knew her a little bit knew better. That mother in law was my aunt, Betty’s husband was my cousin and it was pretty traditional in our family that when someone dies from within the family, their closest kin are blamed. Every time. My sister and I killed our mother. It was just the way it was, I guess. So we didn’t believe our aunt. Neither did the courts. My cousin was found guilty of attempted murder. He went to prison here in Indiana. In the Spring of 2017 he died of cancer while handcuffed to his bed at IU in Indianapolis.

         Betty was sure all of us hated her, but my heart broke for her. She went a while being afraid of men, and who could blame her? She did have a friend from childhood and from her church, a man by the name of Tom, who helped her out when she needed it at her floral shop. Tom was a really nice man, quiet and reserved, but Betty told Marsha that she would never, ever let another man to be close. Betty’s emotional scars ran deeper than even the physical scars.

         Betty has always been a woman of faith and now she was holding onto her faith with both hands.

         Marsha left in November of 2018. Betty was broken hearted. But she immediately thought of me. “Larry, you come for Thanksgiving. The kids will be here and the grands and Tom and it will be fun!” I told her no. I didn’t want to be with anyone and I hate driving in Indy, but I was intrigued that Tom would be there. Slowly, on her Facebook page, Tom was showing up more and more. He has always been heavily involved in church. A good, solid man and it began to appear that he was pulling Betty out of her isolation. I have always felt that Betty deserved a better man and Tom surely fits the bill.

         And then came the message I have been expecting for the last year. Betty and Tom are getting married. I laughed when I read the words. However, the next words quieted me. Betty and Tom want me to do the wedding. Betty and I have known each other for well over forty years. I am not a hugger, but Betty has been hugged by me. We consider each other cousins even though it was only by marriage, but we are close. However, I would not have even considered being asked to do the wedding. I sat and thought about it. December 12. Do the wedding, spend the night in Indy and rush back in the morning for church. Doable. For Betty I would do that and a lot more. I sent her a message and told her I would be so very honored to do the wedding.

         God has a plan. For Betty and for Tom. God has a plan for you, as well. Dark times emerge in our lives. Obviously, they aren’t all as traumatic as Betty’s, but God is there for all of those times. I am filled with joy that my cousin has found happiness.

         1 Peter 5:6-7 gives us this; Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time He may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on Him, because He cares for you. Betty stood humbly before the Lord and He is exalting her to a better life than she ever had before. And He can do so for you.