The Grass Wasn't Greener: A Story of Wandering, Grace, and Coming Home-My Testimony

"I am come a light into the world, that whosoever believes in me should not abide in darkness." John 12:46

    In March of 2024, I left everything I knew-my husband, my children, my home-and moved to Canada chasing something I thought might feel like peace.

    I wasn't trying to escape love. I was trying to feel worthy of it again.

    This isn't a dramatic tale of running away to find myself-it's the honest, humbling truth of what happens when we chase healing in the wrong direction and discover, sometimes painfully, that the path home was through the very place we left behind.

    🌱What Came Before

    We'd been together since 2004, and like most long relationships, our marriage had seen storms. I'd made mistakes-deep ones. I had left before. And in the years that followed, I tried to prove myself over and over. My heart wanted restoration, but I was worn down from always reaching.

    In January 2024, I heard from someone I knew from a past season of separation. He said things I was vulnerable to-words that told me I deserved more, that I was still carrying too much shame. I believed it. And I left.

    At the time, I told myself I was being brave. But in my soul, I knew-I was not following God's voice. I was following pain.

☁ Canada: The Mirage of Escape

    At first, it felt free. I walked alone by lakes, took photos of flowers, felt the spring breeze. I even saw the Northern Lights-a quiet miracle on a roadside after a hard night. That moment felt holy, even in the ache.

    But the man I had come to trust began showing signs of instability-mood swings, fear, confusion. What I now believe to be schizophrenia revealed itself slowly, then all at once. I was eventually locked inside the apartment. I was isolated. I ran out of medication and couldn't cross the border to refill it. 

    I felt my world collapsing. And in early June, I lost all hope and tried to take my own life. But somehow-even in his own brokenness-he stopped me. I don't fully understand it. I just know I survived. 

🚗 Coming Home

   

The day I reached out to my family was the beginning of grace. 

    My sister answered the phone. My daughters told me to come home. My husband-still hurting, still unsure-told me I had a place to return to. I didn't know what kind of home I'd be walking into, only that God had opened the door. 

    I drove from Canada to southern New Mexico. A trip I had no confidence to make, yet did anyway-because God carried me. I barely slept. I had no plan. But I made it. On June 6th, I returned. 

💔 When Forgiveness Takes Time

    Coming home wasn't easy. There were so many unspoken hurts between us. We didn't know how to heal, only that we wanted to try.

    I wanted to be present for my family. I started working full time, trying to rebuild trust, trying to hold everything together. But I still hadn't healed. And in December, everything inside me broke again.

    I didn't leave town this time-but I left emotionally. I stayed in motels and when I couldn't afford it, in my car, lost my job, and fell back in to darkness. I felt like I was carrying the weight of every decision I had ever made...alone. 

🕊 Mercy in Strange Places

    God still wasn't done with me.

    After a second run of suicidal ideation in January, I was hospitalized. And in that unlikely place, I met a blind man named Stan. He couldn't see my face-but he saw my heart. We talked about faith, about history, about healing. He told me I had worth. He believed in me. 

    And that belief helped me begin to believe again too.

🌪 What Healing Looks Like

 

  My healing journey hasn't been a sunrise over calm water-it's been a tornado in a golden field. Terrifying. Chaotic. Beautiful. And somewhere in the distance, always, a glimmer of sunset.

    I learned that I carry traits of both C-PTSD and BPD. I found a new treatment plan. I began to use DBT. My faith became more than a comfort-it became my anchor. 

    And my marriage? It's healing too.

    It hasn't been instant. But there has been effort. My husband has shown me forgiveness in steps. He was deeply hurt, and I understand that now in a way I didn't before. We both had to come to the table raw, real, and willing. He's gone to great lengths. We're learning to trust each other again. And we're finding our way forward-not perfectly, but together.

🔥 Faith Isn't a Situationship

    We have to have a relationship with God, not a situationship. We don't just cry out when we're in trouble and disappear once we feel better. 

    We walk with Him. We trust Him in storms and sunshine. I've learned that God never left me-I had turned away. And when I was ready to return, His arms were still wide open. 

🌾 And the Grass?

Let me say it clearly:

 

The grass isn't greener on the other side. It may look lush-but it's full of thorns you can't see until you're standing in them. You don't need a different life. You need to water your own damn grass. 

    You tend it. You pull your weeds. You trust that what grows under God's care-right where you are-will be beautiful again.

💛 To the One Standing at the Fence

    Maybe you're thinking of leaving. Maybe you already have. Maybe you feel too far gone. 

    You're not.

    God doesn't measure you by your worst decision. He doesn't discard you because you wandered. He simply waits. With grace. With love. With a road home. 

    So, take the step. Not toward fantasy. But toward faith.

    Hold His hand. Walk with Him. And trust me...even if the journey back feels impossible-He always makes a way.