Two nights ago I experienced what may have been my lowest point after court date. I listened as my hurting daughter cried, screamed, and targeted me for this heartbreak. She doesn’t know where to put the blame for the worst nightmare of her little life. But I am her safe place, so that night, I got the beating. I listened to her anger towards me. Every word punctured me deeper and deeper. I should’ve “stood up and made him stay; fought for our family; maybe a new family is better than ours; we’re the only ones divorced in our whole family,” ….what failures we are as parents.

This was all his doing, but I couldn’t tell her that. I couldn’t bash her daddy in that moment as much as I wanted to so that she would lift that heavy weight of blame off of me. I couldn’t tell her how much I did fight in prayer, in words, at times pleading with him via email to stay. She just wouldn’t understand. I had to take it. All of it. Until I fell to my knees in my bathroom to recover from it.

Divorce hurts. Divorce hurts double when it hurts your children.

Sometimes I feel like this is punishment for idolizing marriage. That couldn’t be farthest from God’s character and how He works, but I can’t help but feel that way sometimes.

Boy did I follow through with “valuing” marriage when I pledged my commitment to someone I knew struggled with their sexuality. I pledged to “walk out his freedom with him.” That’s probably the deepest form of commitment – when you KNOW they can fail and yet, you still sign up.

Go me. I was an all star in the world of betrothed wives.
I had mastered “in good times and in bad” before I even walked the isle.
And isn’t this how Christ loved the church? Knowing she may fail Him, yet He is unwaveringly committed to us? Maybe I should’ve never compared an earthly marriage to the ultimate heavenly marriage.

I thought, surely, my commitment combined with God’s mercy would see us through, and we would make it. He was an open book. He shared his struggles in hopes of keeping the darkness in the light and overcoming it. He shared his story with people who were doubting God’s love and mercy…proving to them, God is with them and has a plan for them no matter what they’ve gone through or what they struggle with. Surely, we were going to make it. We were going to beat the odds.

And then free will came along. Life got boring (for him). In came a mini mid life crisis mixed with the weariness of “waiting on God,” and we were doomed. I’m not sure what he was waiting for. For the desires to disappear? What if freedom didn’t consist of them actually disappearing but freedom would be found in overcoming his actions? Maybe overcoming your actions comes first, and then the desire disappears? I don’t know. What I do know is this was not God’s original plan for anyone -whether born into it or not. It was not the original perfect plan for me, for him, for marriage in general. So we shouldn’t be surprised when it comes accompanied with so much pain. When “life gets boring,” anything looks better than home – even the personal destruction you’ve been fighting your whole life to avoid.

I’m not sure how I’ll ever explain free will to my seven-year-old. I’m not sure what I’ll say next time she throws a tantrum and blames mommy for not stopping all of this. Or how I’ll continue to use self control when all I want to do in those moments is call his phone and set it down next to her so he can hear her pain. He doesn’t see this pain. She doesn’t show it when she’s with him.  I can only hope He’ll give me the wisdom. For her sake; for her heart.

He alone knows why He let this follow through. He let it follow through. I’m still coming to terms with that. I’m still coming to terms with free will and how it can wipe away God’s will in your life in an instant. Not that He can never restore it, but the wipe out, oh the wipe out. It’s so hard to watch it go down. But if He let this follow through, there must be a purpose here.

I am learning why God let’s some things go; let’s marriages go – unhealthy marriages.

I am walking in the significance of the absence of the breakthrough I expected -a concept I never fully understood until I heard this sermon. This is so worth the time to listen to:

Answers Matter, by Bill Johnson
Bethel Redding

Something happened last week. January 21, 2015 was not what I expected it to be. Something happened in my heart that Wednesday afternoon that I can only comprehend as a miracle.

I woke up that morning feeling like I was about to face the end of my life as I knew it. My mother told me the day before that it was going to be the beginning of my life, but this morning, that’s not what it felt like. I was going to walk into a court room and cut ties with the only man I’ve ever known so deeply. And I didn’t know how to handle that.

There weren’t any tears yet. I just felt very somber.
I got the kids ready that morning and dropped them off at school and daycare. I gave my sweet mother in law a huge hug (she watches our 3 year old), and headed to the court house.

I lost my breath when I saw him pulling into the neighborhood. He was dropping his sister off at his mom’s. She was in town from out of state. She could not have chosen a better week <insert sarcastic emoji here>. She “came out of the closet” only a few years earlier to which I responded in love. I told her we were here for her. I was ok with watching her walk it out, no matter how much I disagreed and felt sadness for her. But she wasn’t abandoning a family she already started. Her story was different and no matter how distant we were, as her sister in law, I would show her love. Fast forward years later…I didn’t realize my husband would have his own little cheerleader this week. She never wanted me for him. I guess I was never cool enough? And here she is, in town to watch him get rid of me for good. But I knew I had an army of people praying for me that morning, so I was going to stay strong.

I pulled up to my lawyer’s office to find my sweet friend waiting in her car, with her toddler cuddled up, deep in sleep in the car seat. She got into my car and prayed with me; cried with me. I pulled myself together to see my lawyer pulling up in his James Bond-like Mercedes. He told me to get in the back seat. We would be chauffeured by his assistant to the courthouse a block away. I guess I was getting my money’s worth? Ha Ha. Somehow, that celebrity treatment gave me a giggle I needed that morning.

We walked into the courthouse to find my husband sitting in the waiting area right outside the judge’s office. There he was with his little file folder. Everything organized like he always did. You could hear a pin drop as the only person separating us was my James Bond lawyer. I started to heat up inside. I was doing everything to hold back the tears. Here we are in the same courthouse where we signed our marriage license and this is where your impulsive selfishness has brought us. This is where you brought me. Where dysfunctional families come to make sense of their messes. This is what we’ve come to.

As other people filled the waiting area, waiting their turn to see the same judge, the lawyers who knew each other started chatting. I was so uncomfortable. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to chat or small talk. My life was about to be over in the next 15 minutes and all I heard was mindless chatter around me. I felt like a woman in labor who wants to shoot everyone in the room who is mindlessly chatting and laughing in the midst of her excruciating pain. Oh God, make this be over already!

Suddenly, the door opens. It’s our turn. I sit on one side of the table with my lawyer. My husband sits across the table from me – this stranger who I once knew so intimately. I saw the tissue box in the middle of the table. I imagined the millions of tears that have been shed in this room – lives dismantled, families broken, dreams chattered. And now, it would be us. The judge asked me to state my name and address. I barely made it through my name before I broke down in tears. It hit me. This was it. He didn’t bother to force my address out of me. We proceeded with the motions until he asked the question. That question. “Do you believe this marriage is irrevocably broken? Do you wish to terminate your marriage?” I went blank. Just seconds before, he had sworn me into honesty. I realized, my honest answer is not what he’s going to expect. “No, your honor, I don’t believe my marriage is broken. But I will no longer push my husband to feel the same.” He sat back in his chair and said, “Well you know I have the power to interrupt this divorce and make sure you get the help you need to save this marriage. Is that your final answer? Can you clarify if you want to terminate this marriage?” I took a deep breath and responded, “Yes your honor. While I don’t believe my marriage is broken, yes, terminate our marriage.”

He asked my husband the same question and without hesitation he replies, “Yes, my marriage is broken and I wish to terminate it.”

And in that moment, I was done.

I was done crying over a man who was no longer phased by my tears. I was done mourning over a man who just seconds ago heard me tell the judge that I would never be ‘done’ with my husband, and without hesitation asked to terminate his marriage to me. My husband was long gone and I was now done waiting for him.

That moment was like a drug addict who’s been instantly freed. This helpless pain I felt for a year and a half was gone. I was done with the tears. I was done mourning him, missing him, waiting for him.

We finished the meeting. I walked out with my lawyer and my ex-husband walked the opposite direction. My marriage was over. I was numb. I didn’t know what to feel. But somehow I felt safe. My lawyer walked confidently beside me. It was almost as if I was covered. I didn’t walk out alone. And God was using those manly, fatherly, secure, defender footsteps to remind me of it. We returned to his office where I found my sweet friend in the parking lot ready and waiting in her car to whisk me away and hear every debriefing thought. Still no tears. It was like a holy anger rose in me and I just spewed out everything that was said in the meeting. And as I replayed the meeting in my head, my anger grew louder than my sadness. I was angry at him for going through with it; angry at him for falling into this American trap of being ok with divorce and a broken family. My friend turns to me and says, “You’re angry. I’ve never really seen you angry at him. Just sad. But today, you’re angry. You must be healing.”

And that I was. Something in my heart changed that hour. And I think it was the beginning of my healing. We grabbed brunch and drove two hours out of town to sit at the beach. The ocean always reminds me of how big God is. And that day, I needed to be reminded of how big He is in my life. So, that’s where she took me. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay her for that drive, but the ocean was all I needed that day. The rest of the afternoon was filled with peace. My phone died at the beach. I was ok with it. I didn’t want to connect with the world. I just wanted to talk. We talked for two hours about how God has intervened in our lives in so many ways and that through our divorces, He continues to intervene for his daughters.

I felt the prayers of my army of friends and family that day.
But my heart skipped a beat when we were pulling back into town. I was scared that all the tears that hadn’t come out that afternoon would flow that night when I was home. I was so tired of crying. I had already cried for a year and a half waiting for my husband’s return. And I was so done with crying. I didn’t want it.

But the tears never came. There was just peace. I knew God had this all in His hands. I knew He had me in His hands. And I remembered that moment in counseling just about a year ago when my counselor heard clearly from the Lord, “ENOUGH.” My God, my Abba Father spoke, “Enough. He has dragged your heart on the pavement for 15 years. Enough.”

I did have a few unexpected tears the next morning. But they were no longer tears over him. They were tears because I felt how close God is to me in this dark moment. He has closed that chapter and if there is any healing that is supposed to take place in me, in him, in our marriage (whether it is done forever or on the verge of a re-birth), this tragedy had to happen first. I had to take this step. This chapter has closed, no matter how painful it was to shut the door.

I am undone at how He has carried me. And now, more than ever, I feel how deeply He wants to continue carrying me. Just me. No husband. No picket fence. Just me and who He wants me to become.

It’s a good feeling to be DONE. To feel done. I didn’t expect it to bring me this kind of peace. But all I can say is, it its well with my soul.

Oh God, this song. It was my heart’s song that day.

It Is Well (Bethel Music)

Grander earth has quaked before
Moved by the sound of His voice
Seas that are shaken and stirred
Can be calmed and broken for my regard

Through it all, through it all
My eyes are on You
Through it all, through it all
It is well

Through it all, through it all
My eyes are on You
It is well with me


Far be it from me to not believe
Even when my eyes can’t see
And this mountain that’s in front of me
Will be thrown into the midst of the sea



So let go my soul and trust in Him
The waves and wind still know His name

It is well with my soul
It is well with my soul
It is well with my soul
It is well, It is well with my soul

Sitting in Starbucks this morning (it’s about 8:15 am), in the farthest corner possible. I’m most comfortable in corners. I’m exactly 24 hours away from the moment I will walk into a court house and walk back out a divorced woman – my worst nightmare. I don’t even want to begin to think about the deepest pain I’ll feel tomorrow.

My mind is racing. Thinking back through this year and how God has had His hand on everything; how He’s so clearly had my back.

But my heart still hurts. It hurts in so many directions. There’s so much that hurts right now, but for some reason, what’s running through my mind this morning is not my future, not my children’s future, not how long it will take to be married and belong to someone again. What’s running through my mind are the faces of old friends. Friends whom I loved dearly. Friends I use to see daily; live life with. Friends who I’ve watched support my husband’s decision to abandon me. Friends who’s friendship I’m mourning right along with my marriage. Friends who have no idea what tomorrow’s day holds for me.

This world is cruel. And it’s not my friends who are cruel, it’s the confusion that permeates this world and brings stains to friendships that used to be solid. I hate it when people leave; when people give up; when people change for so much less than their destiny. I hate that maybe I’ve been forgotten. I’m that other half of that married couple you used to hold so dear. Maybe you’ve dismissed what happened on my side – abandonment, rejection, a broken dream, a broken home, a broken family, broken vows that you witnessed.

I will never deny the struggle that is homosexuality. I can actually say, after hearing the depths of my dear husband’s thoughts for years – in most cases, it’s not a choice. (Gasp! – yes church, we’re born into sin, remember? We’re born into something that is supposed to be born again, into what He intends for us to be). But for many, like my husband, they didn’t choose there first sexual encounter, because it wasn’t voluntary. They didn’t chose what that does to your brain, your beliefs, your habits, your doubts for the rest of your life. He didn’t choose that it made him feel like an outcast in the middle of sugar coated church circles. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

But what he did choose was to leave me. To break an eternal vow. To choose that side when in reality, he would be fine with either side. So why not stick to the side you made vows to? Why not stick to your word no matter how challenging? Did we forget that God eventually honors that perseverance? And that maybe, marriage would eventually become something that doesn’t feel like daily perseverance, but joy?

I don’t think I will ever understand His choice. I don’t think I will ever understand the friends I once valued who forgot what happened on my side. The rejection. The betrayal. The death.

I may never understand.

But what I do understand is God will never leave me. He will never forsake me. And He will never break His vow. Never.

Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,” says the LORD, who has compassion on you.
Isaiah 54:10

Sometimes I wonder if I’m just totally different.  I’ve had the opportunity to talk with several amazing women who’ve been through a divorce that was literally forced on them. (Like me). But they all seem to have the same reaction: “I’m better off. I’m moving on.”

I’m so not there. I’m just about fifteen months into this and I still. want. him. back.
I loved him. I never planned to be without him. Yes, he cheated on me so many times. Is it wrong that I still love him? Where do you cross the line from mercy/forgiveness to tragically addicted? Perhaps it’s a soul tie. I have some amazing counselors and wise people in my life who can explain a soul tie. For now, I’ll just give the cliff note definition here that I found on The Great Bible Study blog:

“The Bible speaks of what is today known as soul ties. In the Bible, it doesn’t use the word soul tie, but it speaks of them when it talks about souls being knit together, becoming one flesh, etc. A soul tie can serve many functions, but in it’s simplest form, it ties two souls together in the spiritual realm. Soul ties between married couples draw them together like magnets, while soul ties between fornicators can draw a beaten and abused woman to the man which in the natural realm she would hate and run from, but instead she runs to him even though he doesn’t love her, and treats her like dirt.” Read more here

Perhaps, my soul is still so strongly tied to his. Perhaps I was so in love with him and never planned to fall out of love with him. My heart just can’t catch up to today. I can’t catch up to the person he is today. It won’t catch up to every betrayal dating back from year two of our marriage; that first confession that he “messed up at the gym.” I got used to forgiving. I got used to waiting those god awful two weeks to find out if he’s ‘clean.’ I got used to “walking this out together.” Isn’t that what a wife is supposed to do: forgive and walk it out together? Now all of a sudden, I have to cut that off. I am being counseled left and right to cut off that commitment and devotion.

I remember one of my first sessions with my sweet counselor. We were praying. She asked me to tell her what I saw when she told me to “die to wife.” I told her I saw myself in a coffin. She paused. She said, “Why do you see your whole self in there? Is there not more to you than wife?” “No. That was all of me,” I responded. All of me.

How do these women cut that off? How did they find the rest of their ‘self’ when the wife role was stolen from them? How do they see their husbands for what they are now and let go of the good husband they used to be. I need new lenses. I can’t let go of my old ones. I can’t let go of my old husband lost somewhere inside this stranger I see.