03 Apr Dear Divorced
That’s a big D label, huh? How do you like the pain of it? Nah, nobody does. I remember when I was dealing with it, feeling it, going through the thick of it. Late nights staring at a TV screen alone, or sitting at a bar alone, or riding in my car alone. Heck, the alone part isn’t even the hardest. It’s trying to move on and pretend the last 8,9,10 years never happened. It’s waking up and realizing that you don’t even know who you are anymore, your entire identity was wrapped up in another person. That’s not a bad thing by the way, that’s how God designed it. 2 become 1.
TWO WHOLES make a one whole. But then one whole get’s broken, and oops, halfsies. It’s time to rebuild. Everything you worked so hard for hits the floor, tears and snot and all of it hits the floor. Out the door, half the crap you worked so hard for, it’s material, but its still meaningful. It’s dishes, and a TV, boxes of linens and furniture. You think that crap is pointless till it’s gone. An empty dining room just feels wrong. Trying to find cleaning supplies, they’re gone. Half my life, all my wife, and half the strife, GONE. It’s a weight lifted? No, it’s just weight shifted. It’s different now, but still heavy. You get me? And then custody, don’t even get me started on alimony. You go to a third party and they tell you what you can hold on to. Is is supposed to be like this?! NO. This is not how God intended it, but this is how it is. In the middle of my agony somebody took an opportunity to remind me that God hates divorce. And I agree. I hate divorce, too. I imagined that maybe God hated divorce because of what it was doing to me.
So, there was this one time I sat with a Pastor from across town at coffee shop. I told him about my troubles and we talked a lot. Then he left our meeting and followed everyone of my followers on insta. He put up a picture of his wife and wrote, “happily married.” Advertised his church and his happy life. Told his staff to say goodbye to Oasis, they all had a laugh. The next day I saw his wife post a selfie, stomach in, tits out and a Bible verse. Nothing better than some Christian cleavage from the First lady. Y’all think I would make this up? This is the crap that keeps me up. Smell the coffee, all the people are broken. Everybody, everywhere. Even in your darkest hour its hard to find people who care.
But there was Bill, and Mike, and another guy named Bill, and Tony, and Matt, and another Matt, and Todd and Tod and a WHOLE bunch of other dudes with dude names who cared. I had homies, and 2nd moms, and 3rd moms, and more moms than you could count. PEOPLE TRULY CARED…when I let them. But sometimes I didn’t let them care, because I didn’t care. A year of separation and healing and pain and grieving and smiling and having fun and working out and staying out and doing stuff you didn’t do before and seeing your life change right before you eyes and writing run on sentences all the time. That’s how it is when you are getting divorced. It’s full of pain, chaos and confusion. And sometimes you just can’t keep up with it all. It was the most difficult time of my life.
But somewhere in the thick of this, even when I was feeling like a heaping pile of …
I blamed God. I asked God. I begged God. But God didn’t.
And I was ultimately okay with that.
I just kept sitting. Waiting. Learning to smile again. Some days were sunshine and other days were cloudy again. I trusted Him. No matter what, I clung to Him.
This photo is called “Redemption”
Because that beautiful girl beside me endured a similar storm. Her ex-husband left a long time ago, and he left me a little one. And the love I have for her, woah, it’s second to none. I’ve never felt like this before. This trio is my world. And over the past 2 years God has knitted my broken self to their broken selves. And by God’s grace, next month we are adding one more. Remarriage is a theological discussion point for some.
But for me, it’s a grace and blessing that has left me undone.
I can’t express how joyful this bunch makes me, how happy I am to see God get the glory.
He turns misery into ministry.
And that cliche didn’t mean much to me, until it meant a bunch to me.
Oh yea, I started this post with “Dear Divorced”
Let me wrap it up and just say, “hang in there.”