Eight years after my status changed from married to single, I am no longer falling on the floor in grief. Occasional bouts of sadness visit; however, I am grateful. With all the struggles and healings, I have emerged a different person. During this time I have learned what divorce can do, but I have also discovered what divorce cannot do.

Years ago I learned about the grateful heart as I studied the wilderness journey of the children of Israel. Their complaining and rebellion resulted in a 40-year journey through the wilderness—40 years instead of 11 days. Books on praise and the psalms of King David also reminded me of the importance of gratitude.

Although living as a single parent presented many opportunities for discouragement, I was determined to stay focused on praise. Each night I recited personal praises that kept my heart sealed in gratitude.

“Thank you, God, for my fluffy pillows. Thank you for keeping us healthy. Thank you that my car started this morning.”

No matter how difficult the day had been, reciting thanksgiving prayers helped to lift me out of the sadness and deposit me into peaceful sleep. The next morning I started my devotions with the same pattern. “Thank you for the sunrise. Thank you that we have breakfast this morning. Thank you that my patio garden has fresh tomatoes.”

As King David wrote in Psalm 100, “Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise. Give thanks to him and praise his name” (Psalm 100:4). This king who was acquainted with melancholy modeled one of the most important qualities we can possess.

Developing a grateful heart and practicing gratitude helped me move through those early months. Surely those praises also gladdened my Savior’s heart.

My Christian walk began many years before marriage, and divorce did not destroy my spiritual status. I was still a Christian, still a church member, and still headed for Heaven. In fact, my journey with Christ seemed to thrive as his presence surrounded me. Day after day he fulfilled the promise of Psalm 81:16: “But you would be fed with the finest of wheat; with honey from the rock, I would satisfy you.”

The greatest possibility for damaging my faith lay in the area of bitterness. The destruction of our wedding vows seemed enough justification to hate and become a bitter woman; but I knew the physical, emotional, and spiritual damage bitterness could cause. Throughout my years of Christian service I had counseled many bitter women and encouraged them to pursue the narrow road of forgiveness. I was determined not to become a statistic of that nasty attitude.

However, choosing to forgive 25 years of betrayal was more difficult than I imagined. I spoke the words “I choose to forgive” and meant them, but the emotions of forgiveness dragged far behind my determined words. Every holiday alone, every family picture, and every broken dream tested the limits of forgiveness.

A devotion I read encouraged me with these words: “God honors those who have a sincere heart and who want to forgive and be forgiven. . . . Continue to pray for that person and move on in freedom.”

So with every reminder of the hurt I repeated, “I choose to forgive.” Asking God to help me remain free of bitterness, I gradually noticed less hurt and more peace. The choice to embrace forgiveness kept me from living with a caustic attitude. My faith, built on the forgiving spirit of Christ, was wrapped in grace. The result was, as God promised, sweeter than honey.

Even more than before, I believe in the sacred pact that is marriage. It is a holy covenant that should never be broken; but it is also a fragile relationship. Both parties must commit daily, because one person cannot save the other nor bandage what another continues to wound.

I still believe in the sanctity of marriage because God believes in it. He makes the bond so strong that breaking it wrenches souls on both sides. The marriage covenant is a union where two flawed human beings weld their intimate souls together and provide security for a family. This unique covenant exists in a whisper of sacred beauty, and those who make it for a lifetime live in a treasured place.

Author Gail Godwin describes marriage with the beautiful phrase, “May having each other make more of you both.”

One of the most grievous outcomes of my divorce was that I lost the ministry I loved. My church decided they could no longer support a staff member who had to work several jobs, yet my son and I needed more financial help than the church alone could provide.

As I searched for other ministry jobs that would utilize my gifts, I found closed doors. Divorce was the new scarlet letter, and a crimson “D” suddenly branded my resume. But Isaiah 54 reminded me that God had not rejected me.

Once he gives a gift, he protects it. He also guards against shame. “Do not be afraid, you will not suffer shame. Do not fear disgrace; you will not be humiliated. You will forget the shame of your youth and remember no more the reproach of your widowhood” (Isaiah 54:4).

Since the church no longer wanted to employ me, I marched into the secular world. There I discovered plenty of jobs where interpersonal communications were valued. The “D” of my status meant nothing to the Human Resources department; in fact, the question was never addressed. My leadership gifts were needed in the marketplace, my administrative skills were valued, and my ministerial experience helped build trusting relationships.

A strange thing happened. People in the building started sharing their deepest concerns with me. One woman who was trying to quit smoking asked me to be her prayer partner. A colleague who had survived a nasty divorce unloaded his emotional heartache at my desk. The death of a supervisor’s aunt gave me the opportunity to comfort a person who had no church to support her. God kept his gifts in me alive and used them even more effectively than I could have imagined.

Although I live in a different place and sign my name without the Mrs. prefix, I am secure in Christ. My free and creative identity exists independently, yet still finds its nourishment in oneness with Christ.

Ephesians 2:10 reminds me that I am God’s workmanship, created for good works. As a created being, I am a work of art with 1,440 minutes each day to glorify my Savior. This truth confirms in me the dignity that divorce tried to destroy. God continues to revive me and use me. Sometimes he meets me with holy confrontation, but the leftovers of those moments taste sweeter than the original. I embrace the unique individual I am and praise God for the creation of me.

Dying with dignity is a phrase we often use when someone faces terminal illness, but living with dignity is just as important. Christ died for me and I am honored to be his child. My position in the Lord helps me respect myself and live in the joy of my spiritual bloodline.

Divorce is a terrible tragedy and nothing about it is easy. The emotional trauma is intense, and the grief is like no other sorrow. But if we must walk through that door and lose the stability of marriage, we can be certain God will restore what the enemy has stolen. We can continue to live dignified, useful lives—certain that no weapon used against us will prosper.

Divorce cannot change who we are in Christ. It cannot defeat what the Holy Spirit wants to rebuild in us. It cannot change our basic beliefs about marriage nor can it negate the gifts we have received from the bountiful hand of God. |L