Faith over shame

“I am praying for your marriage.”

“Have you prayed about it?”

“Just open your Bible.”

“God has someone better for you.”

“He is such a good father.”

“God has a plan.”

“You should date Jesus.”

“Kids are resilient.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Unsurprisingly, no one suggested that I burn my wedding dress. But these are real (well-meaning) responses I received from some fellow believers when I shared that I was divorcing my husband of 22 years. They really did mean well, but their words were essentially empty and devoid of meaning or connection. Not one asked me how I was doing. How was I coping? How my daughters were adjusting to a life they had never known. 

And then there was silence. Deafening silence from the church I had attended for more than 15 years. The same people who brought meals after an abdominal surgery and who visited me and my youngest daughter when she was hospitalized from complications related to sickle cell disease no longer offered support or care upon hearing that my husband and I were divorcing. It made me wonder: does the emotional distress of divorce call for a lesser level of care and Christian witness than an illness experience? From my little corner of the Southern Baptist world, it seemed that the answer to that question was a resounding “yes.”  

How could it be that my church and the believers with whom I attended baby showers, sat next to in Sunday School, and worked alongside in church ministries would abandon me in this time of great need? My abdominal surgery healed in eight weeks, but the pain of divorce has a much longer window of recovery. So theoretically, one would think that a longer window of healing would provide an even greater opportunity for others to express care and concern. And it probably would’ve if this was any life event other than divorce.

So why the silence? My guess is that my church–and I would apply this to other faith communities–was and likely still is uncomfortable with the idea that a faithful marriage between two God-fearing people would end in divorce. In my experience with and study of this phenomenon, the discomfort comes from two distinct places. First, is the (false) assumption that some sin of great and unspeakable magnitude–committed by the spouse who should bear the blame–is the reason for the divorce. Second, is the lack of knowledge or direct experience that most pastoral teams or church leaders have with divorce. Frankly, this is an unsurprising outcome for faith traditions that immediately disqualify someone who is divorced from a church leadership role as our church did when quickly relieving my ex-husband of his duties as a deacon upon hearing the news of our separation.

Sadly, churches and many believers are much more comfortable navigating the sanctity of marriage before the disgrace of divorce. In the nearly two years since my divorce, my aunt (who is also my godmother) has provided the strongest example of this. It started with the anniversary card she sent to my home after knowing for at least the previous four months prior that my ex-husband and I were separated. She knew we were separated because my ex-husband–without my knowledge–had told her. And believe it or not, the anniversary card was the first attempt she had made to contact me since hearing of the news months before. The next attempt she made to contact me was a text message two months later reminding me to congratulate my cousin and her husband on their thirtieth wedding anniversary. The text even included a grainy photo of the couple on their wedding day. How lovely. The third and final attempt to contact me came a month later as a birthday card with a check for $25 enclosed. In it she wrote:

“May the Lord continue to shower you with His peace, love, faith, and favor as you journey through the life that He has planned for you!”

She also included her phone number–the same phone number she’s had for 40 years–which I can only assume was a lightly-veiled invitation for me to call her. It was the last straw for me. I promptly went to my stationery cabinet, pulled out a monogrammed note, and shared how hurtful her actions in recent months had been while going through one of the most difficult periods of my life. When I put the note in the envelope, I included the check, and I’ve not heard from her since. That was September 2022.

And just when you think the story can’t be anymore bizarre and dehumanizing, my ex-husband told me that my aunt joined him and his new wife for lunch recently. Apparently, in the explanation she offered to my mother (her older sister), she did it because she “loves to celebrate marriage.” Gotcha. Let’s celebrate marriage at the emotional expense of your niece. 

Her explanation is emblematic of why the church struggles with divorce. They are blindly devoted to the institution of marriage–in spite of the manipulation, malignment, and mistreatment that exists in many marriages. The reality is that it’s easier (and more righteous) to celebrate a union than it is to care for a person experiencing divorce–even though the data shows that divorce is alive and well in faith communities. 

And so I’ve made it my mission to be a believer who will actively care for others–whether they believe in Christ or not–who are walking the same path that I have although it is one we never intended to take. It is time to leave the shadow of shame and failure of divorce behind and to step into the light of strength and empowerment found during and after divorce.

The key is demonstrating compassion for others. If only we take time to recognize the human experience of pain, disappointment, and grief in one another we can see an opportunity for care and support. The reality is that the hearts of married and non-married women are the same because deserve the same. A person who sees our value. Who treats us with compassion. Who honors our worth. 

My faith is stronger now than it has ever been. The God of my present and my future has written a story for me that includes divorce. And unlike others, He hasn’t abandoned me.