Four Novembers

I thought it might be time to tell the full story of November 2009, the month that changed my everything forever. I've never talked much about the details, but I have enough distance from it now to know that it's a soap-opera-worthy story. When I recounted that month to my counselor, whom I've only been seeing for a short time, her mouth dropped open further and further.

My husband told me he had had an affair… with a college-aged girl. I wanted to save the marriage. He changed his mind about whether to stay or go on an hourly basis. We celebrated his birthday anyway. Then he packed up and left me while I was at work. Oh and did I mention my sister was also getting married… in another state? I was the maid of honor. And my parents didn't know what was going on until the week of the wedding. And the day before we left for the wedding, he decided he wanted to come home and try again.

Yeah, that's the short version.

This week, I sat down and started purging my clearest memories onto the screen. I thought I'd get it all out for my own catharsis, then maybe try to polish it for the public. Only a few minutes in, I had to look at my journal entries from that time to refresh my memory. Usually, that exercise is pretty painful. But this time, what I noticed most was how clear and strong I sounded. Reading my own words was like witnessing my own rebirth. It showed me I could stand to take a few lessons from my past self.

Sometimes I forget what it was like to realize, for the very first time, that I had a divine right to stand up for myself. Don't get me wrong – I was a complete mess at the time. I couldn't eat and I was fending off panic attacks. But at the same time, there was a peace and strength I'd never experienced, and I knew it was from God. Even in the darkest moments, I felt like a blinding beam of light was radiating out of me, a light that wasn't from me. I felt like Galadriel, blazing beautiful and terrible. That sounds crazy, but I can't describe it any other way.

All my life, I'd let people take advantage of me, in the name of considering others more important than myself. Even those who should have been looking out for my best interests took me up on that offer. All my marriage, I'd put my husband first, swallowing my own hurts. Submitting and then submitting some more. Wondering why all my submitting wasn't paying back love like the marriage books promised it would. But now something holy had been breached, and I was more certain than I'd ever been of anything that God was not okay with it. Any of it. He was angry about what was happening to His daughter, and He was letting me know that I didn't have to lay myself down on those train tracks anymore. I could draw a line – between myself and my husband, my family, the universe. I could have my own back. I could say, No more. Never again. This far and no further. I still took my husband back, but I took him back as a woman who knew her own worth, who would not be disregarded or pushed aside. That's probably why, six months later, he decided he didn't want to stay married after all.

The other thing that stood out in my memory, in my journal entries, was how well my friends loved me during that time. To this day, I feel a special bond with the friends I invited into my worst mess. They were amazing – spending the night with me, bringing me food, sending me flowers and buying me shoes. Praying hard. Gathering intel. Threatening lives. (They were kidding. I think.) They were the hands and feet of God to me.

I remembered all this. Then I closed the computer and went to bed, not feeling sad, but peaceful and thankful. Thankful for my loved ones, who were there when I needed them most, even if we don't talk every day now. Thankful to be me, to be whole. Thankful for God's love and protection.

It's been four years, and it occurred to me that four years is like high school. I was a "freshman" when it happened, and now I'm a "senior." Maybe someday I will tell my whole story. Maybe even in a book. But right now, I'm ready to graduate.

Three Years

Today is my third… me-iversary. Three years ago, my ex-husband walked out and my life as an independent woman began. I probably won't call attention to this date again on this blog, but three strikes me as a good, complete number.

I've been hanging onto some stuff past its expiration date. I didn't realize until recently that I was in a (very stealthy) rut. When I was first divorced, it was important to me to feel and process everything thoroughly. As unpleasant as it was, I didn't want to deal with "moldy leftovers" later in life. Gradually, I adjusted to my new circumstances and stopped tripping on emotional triggers around every corner. But by then, I had formed a habit of pulling up all my painful memories and bad feelings. Sometimes for more analysis; sometimes to wallow; increasingly, to make myself stop wanting a relationship (oh, you want to go through that again?). I thought the burden of those memories was an unavoidable curse of being divorced, and to a degree, it is. But I don't need to keep reliving it all anymore. It's okay to push it away. History has been fully reconstructed. The book is closed. These thoughts have no further constructive role in my life, and at this point, all they can do is hurt me. I can let them go. It feels good!

Subconsciously, I've been waiting for external circumstances to move me past this point. I thought I had reached the end of my healing alone, and anything further would have to be generated by something outside me. That's how it works for most people in my situation. Very few get this far without something – a new love, a new career, a total life change – pushing them into a new gear. Now I see that, like always, I'm responsible for pushing myself. I don't have to wait for a man, or whatever, to come and save me. God still has room to work in the here and now.

For a long time, and for no logical reason, I've felt like this is probably as good as it's going to get. My life is great in a lot of ways, but honestly, I'd hoped for a better endgame. But maybe God wants to do more than a satisfactory patch job with me, and He doesn't want anything else taking the credit for it. He might yet have plans for further restoration and emancipation beyond anything I could have imagined.

This week, on the elliptical (I have most of my epiphanies there, or while mowing the lawn), I felt a sudden certainty that I'm currently in the montage portion of my life. You know, the part of the movie or show with quick shots of the main character going to work, hanging out with friends, playing tennis. Nothing especially exciting happening. But then the montage and the music stop, and the real story begins. I don't mean to discount the montage, because I believe that much of what's important in life happens in the mundane. But we are all meant for some larger story. The daily grind, putting in the work, building the relationships, consistently showing up, is how we get to our stories. Someday the music will stop and it'll be time for mine.



PS – This morning, a friend of mine gave birth to her third daughter. I'm happy to see this day redeemed as a day of joy and life!

Polite Refusals

I had some major revelations this week when a good friend compared my life to Pride and Prejudice. Before you roll your eyes and tune out, know that I'm not one of those girls. I didn't even read P&P until my best friend gave me a copy for my 25th birthday and made me promise to read it immediately. I enjoy and appreciate it, and its place in culture, but I'm not a purist about it. I even (gasp!) liked the 2005 movie. And now that I've alienated both the swoony Mr. Darcy side and the academic Austenite side of that debate, let's move on.

If there is a Mr. Darcy for me (so to speak; I'm not in love with Darcy himself), he hasn't yet made himself known. But there are more than a few Mr. Collins types out there. For those unfamiliar with the story, Lizzie refuses the proposal of Mr. Collins, who is a reasonably decent person and could provide for her, but is pompous and inherently bleah. They have no spark and nothing in common. Lizzie's mother, convinced that no one else will ask due to their family's poverty, is furious with her. But Lizzie can't allow herself to be tied to a drippy man, even if that decision has consequences for her and her family.

Like Lizzie, I have a major strike against me (being divorced, not a lack of dowry) when it comes to dating and stuff. I've been told repeatedly that I need to adjust my expectations, keep an open mind, be willing to do things differently, etc. etc. Up to this point I've been listening to those messages, and chalking any uneasiness up to my personal damage and general cluelessness about the idea of dating again. But what my friend helped me realize is that I don't have to say yes to Mr. Collins. I don't have to bury all my feelings and intuition in the name of Giving People A Chance or Putting Myself Out There. Yes, my circumstances aren't great, but I'm a valuable daughter of God, and I have the right and the ability to choose someone who makes me feel alive... or at least has the potential to. I'm not obligated to say yes to anyone who asks. It's not selfishness, shallowness, or snobbery. It's not immaturity. It's self-respect. And the same is true for all of you. If anyone, even someone close to you or someone you respect, wants you to take the first Mr. Collins who comes along and thank your lucky stars - shame on them. My choosiness might cause me to miss out on some important things, but at least I'll be able to hold my head high about it, and God will help me to bear it.

I felt so empowered by this idea that I needed to share, because I know someone else needs to hear it. I've also decided to start posting a little more often, and more specifically, about my experiences and thoughts as a divorced Christian person. I've noticed that it's not a very common viewpoint in blogs and on websites. I follow several blogs for Christian singles, but they rarely mention or address people who have been married before (or, for that matter, who are over 25). I guess most ministries assume the worst and want to avoid controversy. I've often wished there was more content out there for me, something to encourage me and make me feel less freakish. So I want to create some. As always, being divorced is only one aspect of my life, but it has deep roots - and I believe it's tied to whatever my life's ministry is supposed to be.

On Your Own Terms

My name change has finally gone through at work. I didn't want to announce anything until my e-mail and other accounts had been changed (a slow and painful process, thanks to outsourcing). Now I have a new name plate, a new badge, and new business cards on the way, and I feel like a new woman! My co-workers have added to the chorus of encouragement and support about the change. It's nice.

Last week, in response to my name update on Facebook, an old friend confided that her marriage is falling apart. She's going through much the same experience I did. My heart hurt for her, and I was overwhelmed with things I wanted to tell her. In all seriousness, I could fill a book with advice and hope for hurting, bewildered, abandoned women, and maybe someday I will. In the meantime, I may start blogging about it more regularly. I don't know the demographics of my readership, but even if these things don't apply to you, maybe you can use them to help or relate to someone else.

All that to say, my very positive name change has reinforced something I realized on day one: when you're going through a divorce, or any life-changing crisis that requires a lot of hard decisions, you have to do it on your own terms. This is so important. I'm not saying you should act carelessly or selfishly. I'm not advising against seeking wise counsel, or for doing it all on your own. I'm talking about the gray areas. The timing of things. The choices only you can make for yourself. With every step of my divorce, I waited, I talked to trusted friends, I prayed, I figured out what I could handle, and then I did what was right for me at that time. It wasn't always what others wanted me to do, when they wanted me to do it, but I have no regrets. It was a faith-enriching, confidence-building experience like no other. In keeping with that process, going back to my old name has been a happy and empowering occasion. People have congratulated me, and it's actually felt like the right response. It wouldn't have back then. Divorce, in itself, will never be something to celebrate, but a positive fresh start and reclaiming your identity is. In this case, I didn't have my name taken from me. I thought it all through and chose to give it back. That makes all the difference.

So many times over the last year and a half, I've thought I knew how people would respond to my situation. I've expected people to shun me, tsk-tsk me, assume that I casually tossed my marriage out like yesterday's garbage. With few exceptions, the exact opposite has happened. Even acquaintances and new friends have assumed all the correct things, have embraced and encouraged me. Every time it happens, my heart heals a little bit more. I still bear a lot of shame for being a divorced Christian woman, no matter how many Biblical grounds I had. But the shame is melting away, a little at a time.

I wrote this passage out for myself to claim it over my year. Over my life. I encourage you to claim it for yourself too.

Declaration of Independence

Yesterday I reclaimed my maiden name.

I had a lot of well-thought-out reasons for keeping my ex's last name after my divorce. Most of them were related to authenticity and convenience and had nothing to do with him. I stick by those reasons and know it was the right choice for me at the time. I honestly had no plans ever to go back to my family name, but the idea crept up on me at some point during the holiday season. All of a sudden, I felt like my married name wasn't an honest representation of me anymore. It suddenly bothered me to carry the name of someone I have nothing to do with - I wanted to be known as part of my own wonderful family. I thought about the important things I might/hope to do in my life: publish a book, adopt a child, even send out another wedding invitation. I realized I didn't want to do them with his name. He shouldn't get any credit for me. ;) Whatever I might do, I want to do it as my root self.

Once I made the decision, it seemed like a good idea to take a vacation day and tackle all the red tape at once. Yesterday was the soonest I could do it. Because my divorce was final almost a year and a half ago, I had to go downtown to probate court and file a legal change of name. I'd never spoken to a real judge in a real courtroom before (confession: Legally Blonde quotes were rapid-firing through my head the entire time). It was a little unnerving, but overall very easy. I then toted my growing folder of documents to the Social Security office, the DMV, and the bank. In the midst of all that, my mom treated me to a celebratory lunch at TGI Fridays. We even split a Vanilla Bean Cheesecake (one of my all-time favorite desserts).

I feel good and happy about this change, but I dread the inevitable awkward conversations. People out of the loop are assuming I just now got divorced (this is about to include a truckload of co-workers and church people). It's awkward to have to keep saying, "It was a year and a half ago, I'm doing great now." I'm sure it makes me come across as blase, when treating divorce lightly is the last thing I ever want to do. On the other hand, if I'd changed my name right away, I couldn't have handled those conversations. I was still too raw and private and would have cried every time someone asked me. So I guess breeziness is better than falling apart!

For a lot of divorced women, changing their names marks the beginning of their renewal process. But for me, it's an outward reflection of an internal renewal that's already happened. Kind of like a baptism of my identity. :) I've already been reborn as my own (well, God's) woman. This is just the public announcement. Hopefully it'll be a door to even more growth and new things!

Fallout

The whole 11/11 thing was fun, but I'm glad to see November go. More than any other month, November is packed with marriage-related dates and emotional landmines for me. Compared to how I felt last year, this year was barely a blip on the radar, and I know it'll get even easier. But this is the permanent kind of grief and fallout that you just have to learn to live with. I'm very "over" my divorce in a day-to-day sense, but in a deeper sense, I will never be 100% over it. It doesn't prevent me from being happy, or healthy, or moving on, but it's there underneath everything. Any major loss creates a ripple effect that applies in new ways to new experiences, so you can never totally shake it. I have a special appreciation for friends who have also experienced deep loss, because they instinctively understand this and don't hold it against me.

While I'm on the subject, it bothers me that a death is more socially acceptable to grieve, and feel repercussions from, long-term than a divorce. I believe a divorce can be just as bad as a death, and in some ways and situations, even worse. It's terrible when a loved one dies, and it's natural to have anger and complicated feelings toward the circumstances or even toward the loved one. But in most cases, that person didn't choose to leave you. Generally, you can be comforted knowing that the person loved you, and remembering your good times together. When your loss is the result of someone's choice, a choice that rejects every molecule of your being, it's a whole other ball of wax. It makes grieving the actual loss a lot messier. Meanwhile, people will expect you to forget any happy memories you have, acknowledge that you're better off, and Move On as soon as possible. But you can know the truth of your better-off-ness and still pay tribute to and feel sad for what you've lost, even years later. It doesn't mean something is wrong with you. It's okay... no matter what anyone says. Actually, I think this can apply to a lot of things.

Anyway, this Christmas season should be just what I need. My hope has really been waning lately, so it's the perfect time to reflect on the coming of the Hope of the world!

One Year

It's been one year today since my ex-husband left and effectively ended our marriage. Divorce is a horrible, soul-rending experience, and I never would have chosen it. But through it all, God has been right there with me and has made me stronger than I ever thought I could be. He provided an amazing family and friends to support and comfort me. He provided for me financially and gave me a beautiful home. He provided a new church home where my soul is fed and I'm able to be my real imperfect, oddball self. But most of all, He set me free. Free from the constant, nauseating, legitimate fear that something was lurking in the shadows of my life. Free from endlessly striving to be the perfect wife to a man who would never be satisfied with or truly love me. Free to discover and develop the unique woman God made me to be, and the things He made me to do. Free from throwing myself on the altar for my marriage over and over again. God knew that I would have kept doing it until there was nothing left of me, and He said "Enough." I heard that word that day as clearly as if He'd spoken aloud.

As my life has filled up with truth and cleanness, I have found a peace I never knew before. I feel healthy and whole. I also believe that God wouldn't have set me free FROM something unless He also intended to set me free TO something. When I'm overwhelmed by uncertainty and it's hard to hope for my future, this is what I cling to. My future may not match up with my dreams, but whatever it is, God lifted me out of the pit and set me on an entirely new path to bring it to pass. Do I really need much more than that to feel fulfilled?

When I read Denise Hildreth Jones's Flying Solo, I highlighted at least 75% of the book. But here's just one passage that I wanted to share today:

I will spend the rest of my life knowing that I loved a man – that man – with all my heart. That a piece of my history will always be his. Not in a way that will inhibit my forward motion. But in a way that has made, well, me. Made me into the woman that I am today. A healthy, vibrant, alive woman. It is also a freedom in knowing that it is okay to live. That though life brought me circumstances I warred against, the Creator of my being has brought me liberty from the war and declared to me that living is okay. So, I'm going to live.

Waiting.

Waiting is our destiny. We cannot bring about what we hope for, so we wait, we wait in darkness for a flame we cannot light. We wait in fear for a happy ending we cannot write. We wait for a "not yet" that feels like a "not ever." Waiting is the hardest work of hope.
- Lewis B. Smeads

Things haven't been all great for me lately. I had a cavity filling that was supposed to be no big deal, but my mouth is still wounded and painful two days later. My favorite Generation X station was replaced by talk radio. I lost my column at Blissfully Domestic because they suddenly transitioned to all paid, pre-scheduled content (I can still submit article queries, but I don't understand how that works yet. I need to read the editor's e-mail about ten more times. Why didn't I major in journalism?).

More than these small disappointments, I'm feeling the approach of the anniversary of the end of my marriage. (To me, the end was the being left, not the paperwork.) I'm happy most of the time, and am way past the point where being divorced dominates all my energy. I'm making my own life, and I like that life. I'm well provided for. I know that (because of God's love and mercy) I have "done well." But with this anniversary looming, I feel restless and discontent in a vague sort of way. I've had all this renewed purpose, these grand hopes and plans. Or rather, total confidence that God has grand Jeremiah 29:11 plans for me, big happiness and fulfillment and accomplishment. It's a confidence I've never had before. But lately a little voice has been saying, Who are you kidding? Do you see any indications that the things you hope for will happen? Any opportunities in reality? You have no real plan, you're deluding yourself, and everyone is laughing at you.

I know where that voice probably comes from, but I've had a hard time ignoring it. I feel like I was allowed a year to figure out the rest of my life (ridiculous), and now my time is up and I don't have the answers. Nothing magical has happened. I'm still mostly... waiting, although it's an active waiting. But despite how I feel, waiting doesn't suddenly become unacceptable because of a day on a calendar. It doesn't make me weak or directionless or washed up. The truth is, most of us spend most of our lives waiting. Life's big moments, when everything comes together, were never meant for everyday. That's not where our faith is built.

I got a great e-mail from a friend this morning about how Psalm 27:14 has encouraged her:

I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the LORD

in the land of the living!
Wait for the LORD;
be strong, and let your heart take courage;
wait for the LORD!

I needed this reminder that God encourages us to wait on Him, and be hopeful and expectant for what He will do. It's not delusion. It's strength and courage. :)

Divorce Survival Tips

My divorce was final on September 9. The papers arrived in the mail about a week later… an anxious week of waiting, because I knew it had been around 60 days since the filing. (We didn't have to go to court at all.) So I'm officially a single, independent woman. It feels strange, but it's a big relief to be through the most volatile part of the process. I'm not at the "end" of all this yet, and I don't know when I will be or what will signify that end, but I think the worst is over now.

So I want to share a few things that I've learned through the divorce process, in hopes that it might help someone. Not that I've mastered these things – I have to remind myself of them every day. Please note that my divorce was very "easy" and nonthreatening from a legal standpoint, and that I have no children, so this advice may not apply to more serious or legally complicated situations.

- First of all, it takes two people to save a marriage. It really frustrates me to see literature claiming that you can save your marriage "even if you're the only one who wants to." These (often Christian) articles suggest all kinds of tactics (passive and active) and even specific prayers to turn your wayward spouse a certain way and get God to work in his/her heart. They're well-intentioned and might be helpful and hopeful for certain situations. However, I tried to save my marriage by myself for a long time, and statements like that only piled more guilt, responsibility, and disappointment onto a load that was already smothering me. You, alone, cannot restore your marriage by sheer force of will. You can’t control your spouse. In the long run, both parties have to want it and commit to it – not only outwardly, but also inwardly. If you did the best you could and the marriage still failed, it is not your fault. God is not disappointed in you.

- Take one step at a time. When my ex left me, some people thought I should jump to action immediately, but I was paralyzed with shock. I couldn't wrap my head around getting an actual divorce. Then time passed, and with prayer and serious reflection and good advice, I felt okay enough to start seriously looking for a lawyer. Then I started all over again with calling a lawyer. This applies to a lot of non-legal decisions too. It may feel like you're not making progress quickly enough, but it's worth it because you can face each thing with relative confidence and minimal regrets. So if you're unsure, wait. Give yourself some time and space. Advice from loved ones is great, but in the end, they're not the ones who will be affected by your decisions.

- Similarly, if thinking about the long term overwhelms you, don't. I've blogged about this before, but if you're a natural worrier, planner and achiever like me, it's crucial to remember when the rug's been pulled out from under you. If your basic needs are settled for the near future, there's no need to decide right now what you're going to do with the rest of your life. Or torment yourself by imagining a lifetime of lonely Christmases. It's unproductive and will only rob you of the little joys that are available to you each day. You don't have to have everything figured out. So when the suddenly wide-open future feels so huge that it might swallow you – call a friend. Take a walk. Go to a movie. Eat some ice cream. Pray. When the time is right to do something, you'll know. You also never know when something great will come out of nowhere. You've experienced unexpected bad things, but unexpected good things can happen too.

- But don't stuff down your sadness and grief when it comes. Most of us instinctively slap some sort of Band-Aid on these painful emotions, but I think it's important to the healing process to just sit in them sometimes. Grief is appropriate in a divorce, and it can't be ignored – it has to surface at some point. Low moments are really difficult (to say the least), but personally, I'd rather suffer now than have to "re-break the bone" later.

- Read books. Listen to music. If a song makes you happy or helps you release your emotions, listen to it 20 times a day if you want to.* Make a playlist! Burn a CD! If a book ministers to you, write down your favorite lines and re-read them when you need a lift. I also recommend the book of Isaiah. So many great passages about God's protection and redemption, about rising above crisis, even specific references to abandoned wives (Isaiah 54:1-8).

Those are some highlights. Needless to say, I've been having a lot of breakthroughs.

* = Is there an mp3 version of Beyoncé's "If I Were a Boy/You Oughta Know" mashup? She's performed it at several shows, but I can't find an audio version ANYWHERE.

+1

So far, for me, one of the hardest parts of being single again is not having a built-in person to do things with. I'm not afraid to go places by myself, and have done so, but it often makes me sad. And finding someone to do a specific thing with me takes energy and perseverance (that I frequently don't have), because my very few friends who aren't married are really busy in other ways. I know that sometimes it's a fight to find any quality time with your spouse, or enough relaxation time to keep you going. I've been there. I'm not angry, and I don't expect anyone to shuffle their schedule for me! But it's disappointing when I have to skip something just because I didn't want to do it alone.

In an effort to counteract that, I've decided that on Friday nights when I don't have other plans, I'll watch a movie. I've been out of touch with movies for several years and my list is long. So far I've seen Whip It (loved it) and The Back-Up Plan (90 minutes I'll never get back). Now there are a lot of movies opening in theaters that I want to see - You Again, The Social Network, Easy A, even the Wall Street sequel because I will watch anything Shia LaBeouf is in. So I plan to start calling a few friends and tell them that this is my plan if they want to come with, and if no one does, I will still go. I WILL.

Other than that, I want to try new restaurants and reclaim more of my old ones. (I hardly ever go out to eat anymore, which I guess is good money- and health-wise, but not much fun.) I want to go to Greek Fest on October 2. I want to go to Dolphins and Whales at the IMAX. I want to attend at least one Tiger football game this season. I really, really, really want to see Wicked at the Orpheum - is it already sold out? I want to look at fall foliage, whenever it arrives. I want to LIVE LIFE. WITH PEOPLE.

Momentous

(Tybee Island, Georgia)

One thing I'm having to realize over and over during this time is the importance of living in the moment. The effect on my mental health cannot be overstated. As long as I focus on the day-to-day, I feel okay, even hopeful and happy. Then my goal-oriented brain says, "Better now! Time to look at the big picture!" Thus I've learned that the fastest way to make grief crushing and unmanageable is to think about an entire lifetime of dealing with it, to start making long-term plans around your Plan B reality.

I've always been a planner, by nature and nurture. Not having the future figured out is scary and makes me feel irresponsible and even guilty. But I know God has been trying to teach me for years to be still and leave things in His hands. After giving myself permission, again, to stop thinking long-term, today I feel peace for the first time in weeks. I don't think that's a coincidence.

I will go before you and will level the mountains;
I will break down gates of bronze
and cut through bars of iron.
I will give you the treasures of darkness,
riches stored in secret places,
so that you may know that I am the LORD,
the God of Israel, who summons you by name.
- Isaiah 45:2-3

The Story

Here's the personal crisis I've been referring to: I'm going through a divorce.

It's been hard to hide a pending divorce from the general public, since it affects every aspect of my life, and I'm pretty transparent to begin with. I don't even want to hide anymore – there's just no good way to announce this kind of news without turning into Debbie Downer. When I'm around people who don't know, it's awkward and anxiety-inducing. I've wished many times that I could issue a press release or something so everyone would know without my having to tell them personally. Although most of the people reading this know the story anyway, this is the closest I can come to a press release, so here we go.

No one goes into a marriage expecting it to fail (I hope not, anyway), but I especially NEVER expected to be in this situation. I am a Christian and I believe that marriage is a sacred covenant and should be taken very seriously. When I said "for better or for worse," I meant it. I had no doubts about marrying my husband, because I had already loved him for years, and I knew deeply that no matter what he did, I would be able to love him for the rest of our lives. Unfortunately, he married me without the same confidence, and eventually decided he wasn't "in love" with me. After five years of marriage, he was unfaithful twice within six months. One day in May, he confessed the second affair and then left me. His intentions were very clear, but he didn't take any steps legally, so I had to take care of it in order to protect myself. The paperwork was filed quickly and should be final sometime in September. Obviously there's a lot more to the story, but suffice to say I fought for our marriage for a long time. I believe that there was nothing more I could have done for him or us, and everyone I know has backed me up on that. Sometimes they have to re-convince me of it.

Even though my divorce was not my fault and I know I don't owe the world any information, I feel this ongoing need to explain myself to people. I finally figured out that I just don't want to contribute to the prevalent cultural attitude that divorce is a normal occurrence, and marriage is easily undoable and no big deal. It IS a big deal. It's the biggest deal we will know this side of heaven. I definitely believe that divorce is permissible and even correct under certain circumstances, but it's not something that should be taken lightly. Ever. I don't want anyone to think that I just shrugged off my marriage and said "Eh, forget him" the moment I was done wrong, or "not happy" – and that includes the many people who find that a totally acceptable reaction.

On the plus side, I have an overwhelming amount of love and support from my family and friends and even from unexpected sources. I'm continually humbled by how great everyone has been. He voluntarily deeded our house to me, and because of my good job, I can still afford to live in it. We don't have any children – although I'm sorry not to have children, I'm grateful that I don't have to be a single mom and no one else has to be directly affected. I have a lot of benefits that are unusual for women in this situation. None of them make up for losing the man I loved and my most important dreams, but I'm still thankful for them. I'm still grieving and I have difficult moments every day, but I know that God loves me and is with me, and He will lead me not just to survive, but to thrive in ways that I couldn't have otherwise. I'm already beginning to feel more whole and fulfilled than I thought possible.

I don't remember this verse sticking out to me before this year, but it really comforts me and reminds me of what's really important and why I press on.

In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith – of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire – may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.
- I Peter 1:6-7