The divorce was final on February 15, 2018. We didn’t even make it to our second anniversary.
There were great days…and good days…and regular days in the 719 we were married, but those seemed to be marred by the hard days. The days when I felt like I was playing catch up trying to figure out…
What was going on…
What went wrong…
What I was doing wrong…
And what was happening?
The 18 months prior to our wedding day were the absolute happiest and most joyful of my life. I’d venture to say they were his as well. You see…
I’d prayed for this man for as long as I could remember.
I’d waited for him.
And suddenly, there he was. And I loved him almost instantly. I know it was good, and right, and perfect for us to marry. I’ve never doubted it. Ever. Even on the darkest of days.
And I loved being married to him even when it was hard.
Marriage taught me many things. It revealed my flaws, my brokenness, my fears, my hurts, and my weaknesses. It was ugly.
It taught me how destructive unforgiveness can be: how it creates a cancer of bitterness so deep and wide the fruit is poisonous and words are venomous.
It taught me if your glasses are broken and scratched by the world – you misinterpret things. The more broken your glasses, the more misconstrued your reality.
It taught me we are all broken…
We all need grace…
We all need forgiveness…
And if we have received grace and forgiveness from God, we must give it out as He does: freely.
God taught me there is a spiritual war all around me.
He taught me my spouse was not the enemy. Satan is.
He taught me it is not my battle to fight. It is God’s.
And He is teaching me to be still.
It’s been 52 days since it was official, and by the grace of God, I’m doing OK. There are bad days…and sad days…and regular days…and days when I refuse to let the divorce mar them.
I don’t know why God would take something I’d longed for over twenty years.
Maybe He knew if I endured that, I’d persevere through this.
Maybe through those prayers, He was preparing me for these.
Divorce may have separated us legally, but I believe in the eyes of God, we are still one flesh. A piece of paper doesn’t change my vows nor the resolve behind them.
So, I pray for reconciliation one day.
I pray for God to restore this pile of ashes I mourn in.
I pray for the Holy Spirit to do His work.
I pray for hearts to be changed and rebellion to be broken.
And I hope.
Maybe that makes me pathetic, or sad, or silly, or foolish. I feel that way sometimes.
So, I’ll smile politely when people tell me it’s a lost cause, or that I should move on.
I’ll see the pity in their faces, and hear it in their voices.
They’ll say kindly, “Maybe God has another plan.” And that’s OK. Maybe He does.
But God has also taught me He uses the foolish and the hopeless of this world to bring glory to His Name. And our faith in Him is pleasing. So, even if restoration never comes, I’ll press on. Because, you see…
I’ve prayed for this man for as long as I can remember.
And I’ll wait for him again.