Divorce

I tell you that anyone who divorces his wife, except for sexual immorality, and marries another woman commits adultery.  - Matthew 19:9

My relationship with my wife was very complex.  I loved her very much and wanted her to come home.  Yet, she made it clear she had no intention of coming home.  I also would experience anger when I thought about the abandonment.  I would get sad when I envisioned the affair and how I thought it may have played out.  I hurt.  Yet, I longed to see her on the days she visited the kids.  I was worn by this inner conflict of emotion.  I had no control.  She was in the driver's seat.

One day, I was so angry with her abandonment, and more specifically her inability to acknowledge the abandonment, that I took to Facebook.  Up until this point, not too many people knew that she had had an affair.  People knew that we were having problems and that we were separated but they didn't know why.  I had not yet "thrown her under the bus."  Finally, I caved.  Waves of people offered me advice and condolences.  Many offered to babysit.  It helped.  It also made my wife cry - and her mom.  I deleted the post by the end of the day but the damage was done.  My wife lost several Facebook friends that day.

That night she told me that she no longer held out any hope for us.  She said that she had deep down been considering coming back, but not now.  Not after this.  She wanted a divorce.  I remember driving home from a bowling alley after she had told me this.  The number 40 came to mind.  I would give her 40 days before filing for divorce.  Each day I would send her 1 reason why we should be together.  As I started to concoct this plan I looked over and saw a speed limit sign that read "40."  It was more than just a sign, it was a sign.  I would like to note that I drove through this same stretch of road several months later to find speed limit signs that read 30 and 35, but none that said 40.

That night I wrote 3 letters.  I wrote 1 to my wife and 1 to each of her parents.  They were apology letters.  The next morning I showed up at their house with donuts and the letters.  I apologized to each of them for what I had posted on Facebook and gave them the letters.  Her parents hugged me.  My wife cried.  It was the first time I had seen her cry.  She often said that she felt no emotion and that she didn't understand why.  She didn't get sad about any of this mess.  It was a big deal to see her cry.  She was crying in shame.  Now even her grandparents knew, along with all of our friends and family.

I gave her the first of the 40 reasons.  It was a poem that I had written to her on our 5th wedding anniversary.  I framed it with a picture of our wedding day on the beach.  I saw a flash in her eyes.  I would see that flash now and again.  It gave me hope.  That flash revealed a longing to come home, and I knew it.

Nevertheless, a couple days later I asked her for advice about my 40 day thing.  Her advice was for me to stop doing it.  So I did.  I think I only made it to day 3.  I should have stayed the course but I didn't.  The spirit was willing but the flesh was weak.  I couldn't handle 40 days of suffering - I wanted closure.  I would pay for it, literally, in the form of a divorce payment.

Not soon after that I filed for divorce.  I wanted to reconcile but she did not.  It is so hard to write your children's names on a legal document as if they are property.  I would get the kids, I did not even have to fight for them.  It would be 6 months until the divorce would be finalized.

In the meantime I started to try and distance myself from her.  I would not linger when I dropped off the kids.  I would barely look at her.  At one point I explained my behavior.  I let her know that the door for her to come home was still open and would be until the divorce paperwork was signed.  However, for my own personal healing, I needed distance to try and get over her.

I found myself walking with people through their mud like only someone in the mud themselves can do.  Empathy, true empathy, comes from personal experience.  Before going out on the weekends, I would pray about what I was about to do.  I wanted God's light to shine through me for others.  I found myself going to party situations and turning the conversation over to the Lord.  I took joy in helping people with their trials and offering encouragement.  I walked away from those nights feeling good about what I had done instead of tired and intoxicated.

I had the most Psalm-worthy and heartfelt prayers during these times that ended with me face down on the ground sobbing.  I absolutely threw myself onto the Lord.  I wanted His will to be done.  I didn't know what He planned for my wife.  I didn't know if she was supposed to stay away or come home.  I didn't want it to be my choice.  I didn't want it to be her choice.  I wanted His will to be done.  There's an incredible peace that comes from casting such a heavy burden onto God.  In addition to my prayers, we had an army of people praying for us.