Malachi 2:16

I have thought a lot about divorce over the past several years. I have wrestled with the concept, actually. I hate divorce, though, concerning my divorce, I felt I had no other recourse. It's like cutting off your leg to save your life. This blog was deployed to help me navigate my divorce, yet I didn't write much about it. My suffering was too much, too deep, and too personal to share. But am I destined to hobble about the rest of my life? 

I sought my God heavily before, during, and after my divorce. Malachi 2:16 seems a straightforward verse concerning divorce, though this article caused me to rethink that. In fact, this article was about the closest I've come to how my conversations with God went before, during, and after my divorce. I felt God accepted my reasoning and desire to end my marriage and consented to it. I felt released from my marriage for Biblical reasons. I never felt judged or that I was wrong. But that didn't stop the carnage in my soul — the intense grief, guilt, shame, and self-condemnation — I felt from other sources. More on that in a bit.

Why am I mentioning this now? Some things from my "secret" blog cross over to this blog when I feel ready. Much of what I was feeling about my divorce was from other people. Every time I replay the conversations in my mind I had with God concerning my divorce, I feel at peace. When I think of what other people must think or what they think they know, I bristle. I feel ashamed. I feel guilty. I feel wrong. I did violence to her in some sense by divorcing her, but I did my best to minimize that. She's done better than me after divorce in every measurable metric, and I'm pretty sure she's done better than me in the unmeasurable ones too. I feel at peace knowing she is okay and taken care of, which I prayed relentlessly about.

My ex is on the record as saying what happened had to happen, that she doesn't blame me. She even told me she doesn't care anymore about reconciliation, even if it was a possibility. Part of the self-blame comes from my particular psychology. Some of the blame is probably imagined. Some of it isn't imagined. All that matters is what I feel God told me years ago when I brought this to His feet, not what anyone else thinks. I could write another 20 posts about this topic, but I've instead chosen to let it go. 

The reason I'm writing this post is that I'm fascinated by the dichotomy of the conversations I had with God versus the conversations I had with people who clearly had no understanding of what my marriage was like, people who bind others legalistically while they ignore their own sins (Matthew 7:5). They don't know how many times I humbled myself before God seeking answers before, during, and after my divorce. Did they think I simply did what I wanted to do? Does anyone actually want to get divorced? It's like jumping out of a car before it goes off the cliff. Did I really have a choice? Did they see how many times I laid myself open for correction, how many times I fasted and prayed and asked if I was in error? Through all of that, I'm sure God saw my heart (Jeremiah 17:10).

Still, I hate divorce. I think God hates divorce, too. How many times did I question whether or not I did the right thing? Thousands of times. How many times did I second-guess everything, endlessly recalculating, yet always coming up with the same answer like an OCD professor trying to find something wrong with a math problem? Thousands of times, perhaps in the tens of thousands now. Part of that is my psychology. Part of that is the sheer lack of support (and sometimes what felt like condemnation) I received before, during, and after my divorce. This precious article says I was not alone in that feeling.

When I read the first article I mentioned above, I was reminded of those conversations with God. Sometimes God asks us to do things that are hard. God didn't ask me to stay in my marriage. I felt understood, accepted, and loved. I contrast that with the way other people made me feel after my divorce. I've always tried to be tough and independent. Why did it surprise me when seemingly no one had my back? It didn't feel fair. It felt like I was wronged all over again.

No one but me fully understands what it was like being in my marriage. I've tried to be honest here, but I have left many things out. Some things are just too private. But if no one understands but me, then why am I allowing others to judge me — and unfairly? The Bible says a lot about judgment and condemnation. That's not my point. My point is this: Do I believe what God told me or not? Do I believe what He told me or what I feel other people (including myself) told me? (Acts 4:19) Do I trust this whole thing to God or not? I prayerfully executed what I felt was my only recourse. What more could I do? 

There is more I should mention to flesh this post out, but I just can't. It's too personal, even after years have gone by. The point of this post is to point out the dichotomy of my personal walk with God and the walk everyone else thinks I walk. If I isolate everything to just my walk with God, I feel at peace. When I venture outside of that, I get upset. Some people understand. Don't get me wrong. They do. But most don't. I still can't get over the difference between conversations I had with God and conversations I had with others about my marriage and divorce. 

My divorce was a soul-crushing experience. To those who added to my misery in my time of acute need: why? To those who chose to judge instead of understand: why? My God tells me to be patient with myself and with others, so I will try. He tells me the only person who needs to be sought is Him (Galatians 1:10). All other opinions are just that — opinions. At the end of the day, I'm the one who has thought about this the most. I've put the most prayer into it. I'm the one who tore my chest open thousands of times and bared my heart to God, resolutely seeking guidance. So, at the end of the day, that's all that matters. I may have been judged guilty of something by others, but my heart is clean before God. I don't have time to waste, so whatever people think is what they think. I can't be angry about that. I have to let people think what they think. In that way, I release myself from this downward spiral. And thank God for that. 

My instability and irritability the past few years make more sense when I throw out the quote, "I'm not where I want to be, but it's better than where I was." I am in God's desert right now, wandering, but with the promise that He will make a pathway through the desert and rivers of water appear. He is doing a new thing, and I want to see what that new thing is (Isaiah 43:18-19). 

Thank you for reading, and God bless.