I’m getting divorced.
Three simple words. Three simple words that don’t convey the pain and messiness of this season. Three simple words that don’t feel real. Three simple words that represent an impossibly complicated emotional state of being.
How does one begin to talk about this? Celebrities famously announce they are consciously uncoupling, calling it quits, or parting ways. Slick and pretentious words for glamorous superstars. Still others use words like split or a breakup. These feel trite and juvenile, unfitting for the end of marriage that lasted three decades. For this divorce experience, the word rupture seems to best fit. It is a tearing apart of what was meant to be lasting. The terrain of my life is messy and dramatically changed by the events that tore our marriage apart.
Being single was not something I imagined nor wanted for my life. The beauty, complexity and significance of marriage is all around me being played out through enduring marriages of family and friends. I longed to be one of the couples who thrived through the decades between youthful newlyweds saying their vows and the gray-haired soulmates holding hands on the front porch. But this vision is not one that will be fulfilled for me. A dream ruptured; landscape forever changed.
We came together as teenagers so we “grew up” together, bonding our minds, bodies and souls in ways that feel unbreakable. My mind is still consumed with thoughts of him, and of us. My body yearns to rest its head on his chest and to be held securely in his arms. My emotions sweep dramatically from tender care to loud outrage and back again. I wonder when and if these impulses will change. The bond between is ruptured; terrain shifted.
My conversations with God have been intense as I’ve wrestled with my beliefs. We had love and joy in our marriage but we also had pain and sin. So does divorce mean that I didn’t trust enough, sacrifice enough, strive enough in order to earn God’s blessing? If God brought us together, am I supposed to endure the sin that plagued our marriage? Many want me to believe that; I believed it too. Old beliefs have ruptured as my view of God’s desire is rocked.
But I’m learning that rupture also creates a release that I wasn’t aware that I needed.
As my landscape changed, the toxic mess that was building up is gradually being expelled. I’m unlearning lies that I came to believe, to live, and to perpetuate. I’m letting go of my distorted perceptions of love and of God so that I may learn Godly love. And I’m disavowing the idea that the external appearance of marriage is more important than the love of God that He wants to live out in each of us.
Within the release, I’m also learning to hope differently. The idol of an enduring marriage is being replaced with a longing for more than can be offered on this side of heaven. I don’t know what singleness will look like, but I’m filled with hope that God will walk with me, grieve with me and feast with me as I travel this journey. I trust Him to recklessly pursue me so that I will know His mercy and His love in ways that I can’t yet imagine.
While I feel disoriented from the dramatic changes in my life, I am trying to welcome the release. As I emerge from the chaotic rubble, I’m beginning to imagine my new life. I may stumble and lose my way occasionally, but I hope to find a path that feels right and free and maybe even a little adventurous.
Yes, divorce is a rupture that has made a wreck of my well-groomed landscape. But in the mess, I’m finding my way. The terrain is different, but growth and life are taking hold. New hope is emerging and I trust that my landscape will display a glorious renewal of beauty once again.
Rupture. Release. Beauty.
Sharon Collignon has a small counseling ministry where she cares for the hearts of women. Her empathetic approach encourages growth and healing through exploration of personal stories in the context of God’s grander story. Sharon is grateful to be called Mom by two adventurous women, Taylor and Sydney. And she is finding enormous delight in being grandmother.
Your words hold power and hope, Sharon. Thank you. Christine
Thank you so much.
Powerful message
Thank you.
Thank you for addressing this issue. I have several close friends struggling with this very issue. Be blessed!
I’m sorry for your friends. May you be a support to them.
May blessings abound for you as you walk this path and discover yourself anew.
Yes, Claudia. Thank you for your kind blessing.
Such descriptive wisdom and insight in the midst of the rupture. I can tell you are keeping your eyes on Him. And I’d like to confirm there is hope and beauty and adventure ahead. It will be different for sure, but so much breathtaking, weep-inducing beauty. Prayers as you continue the process of ashes to beauty.
It is good to hear the confirmation. Thank you.
It is good to hear your confirmation of hope. Thank you.
Thank you, Sharon. You have so eloquently described what divorce feels like when one has never considered it would be part of their reality. It is a visceral thing and my body still reacts to the first three words of your piece even if my heart no longer does.
“So does divorce mean that I didn’t trust enough, sacrifice enough, strive enough in order to earn God’s blessing? If God brought us together, am I supposed to endure the sin that plagued our marriage?”
These questions and former beliefs were at the heart of most of the shame surrounding my experience with divorce. Thank you for asking them and for inferring the release of God’s answer being, “No, my Beloved.”
Visceral indeed. May we know Him deeper through the grief.
Thank you for your willingness to share how you’re feeling and walking with God through this season. I too have walked through the darkness of things never expected or wanted and had my beliefs about God and the way He works turned upside down. I’m praying that you will find Him to be as loving, gracious, and faithful as I have.
Loved this raw sense of reality that is often covered up in Christian circles. I’m cheering for her future!
Absolutely! God can and does work in these places. The deeper relationship with him alone is reason for hope. Praying that she’ll experience the peace and joy of God’s presence in this season!
I’m sorry for you journey too. Thank you for speaking kindness.
Thank you. I too am walking a similar road… relearning the way that I see God, and realising that sometimes Christians are out of their depth in how to support those women whose husbands were in Christian ministry, but have now decided that their wives are surplus to requirements… mine is a story of not really understanding the circumstances that I am now placed in, and I cannot get any sense or reasoning from my husband, who tellsme I should read my Bible more, but goes around discussing me with anyone who will listen…
Anne, I walked a similar path about ten years ago. I finally realized that desiring reasoning from him was an impossible expectation during that period. So much confused thinking was occurring that reason flew out the window. Only when God grabbed him by the throat were we able to move forward. I wish you God’s best as you move forward, whatever that looks like. (And living through that awful time was one of growth for me, and actually feeling loved by God rather than the academic knowledge that God loves me. He knows me, and He loves me anyway.)
I’m so sorry for the road that you both walked. Thank you for taking the time to share a bit of it with me.
I’m so sorry that those who should be loving and supporting you are instead adding to the pain and difficulty. Praying today that God won’t only give you a sense of his love and presence, but also that he will bring a spiritual friend into your life that will be a source of love and encouragement!
Your word “rupture” reminds me of the words of “Anthem” by Leonard Cohen. “There is a crack in everything; that’s how the light gets in.” I wish you light.
Yes, may the light get in!
For me, currently, I’m a widow. My Alcoholic spouse is alive. We live in the same home. 44 years ago I married a man I believed was God sent. All of these years later, it has come down to my needing to remain steadfast in the obedience of Christ. With great support, loving friends and my Holy habits, I am free to live the rest of my life reclaiming what the locusts have taken. Joel 2:25
Alcoholism has tried to destroy me. Alleluia our God is our Living God. He has plans and a purpose for me. Couldn’t be more grateful, regardless of the hardships and grief.
Miriam, I’m so sad for your situation. But I’m glad that God is meeting you in the mess.
Sharon – I;m so sorry you are dealing with this. As I read your piece again today I thought of a hymn titled “God Leads Us Along” and the refrain is:
Some through the waters , some through the flood,
Some through the fire, but all through the blood;
Some through great sorrow, but God gives a song,
In the night season and all the day long.
I’m praying that God will walk closely with you during this night season of your life. Blessings to you dear one.
Thank you for articulating your pain so well. I wrote a blog after my separation which ended in divorce last year. http://aheartforethiopia.blogspot.com/2016/07/when-grace-resides-in-grey.html is the link to it if you want to read. I have to say, from the other side, that the sweetness of the journey is so much greater than the shattering that begins it. Bless you
I tried to go to your blog to read your post, but was unable to connect to your blog.
Powerful writing! Thank you so much for sharing your story. After 37 years of marriage, I am afraid that those 3 words are right around the corner for me.
“So does divorce mean that I didn’t trust enough, sacrifice enough, strive enough in order to earn God’s blessing? If God brought us together, am I supposed to endure the sin that plagued our marriage?”
This is right where I have been at for 10 long years . . . enduring my husband’s continued lies and deceit. I am so broken, I hardly know who I am any longer.
Prayers for you on the journey, Laurel.