Hey girlies! It's been an eventful week. As you know, Saturday my husband and I signed the final divorce decree. I handed it over to my attorney on Monday and was shocked to learn I'd be in court just 3 days later. I tell ya, when I read the email I projectile cried . . . who knew that was possible. I've known for some time this was coming. My husband moved out last June, for goodness sake!
I called my friend, Amanda, who offered to go to court with me when the time came. True to her word, she picked me up that morning and pacified me with a funny story which I cannot share because she'd kill me. I cherish Amanda most for the unique Christian counsel she offered me when God (and AT&T) revealed that my husband and best friend had some repenting to do.
"Pumpkin. I'm so sorry . . . you got screwed. Do you want to pray?"
God spoke through Amanda to validate my painful reality and in an instant, convince me He cared.
Tuesday night I was privileged to teach at the Cherished House and Wednesday night I volunteered at church. Upon arrival, attendees worship together and then venture off to their respective classes. I reached to open the door to the sanctuary when it hit me: This is the last time I'll worship in this house as my husband's wife. Breathe. Open door. Walk inside. Get a tissue. Worship.
And worship, I did.
I haven't cried since. I thought I'd cry in court. I was sure I'd cry in court. Amanda held my hand as I softly repeated, "Don't cry. Don't cry. Not here." And that's when God, who houses considerable stores of humor, drew my attention to the woman standing in front of the judge, which is not at all funny. Her attorney?, well, this is where it gets funny.
He fumbled over his words in front of the judge! It was awful. I didn't say anything, but then Amanda whispered, "Is this his first day in court or what?" And just when we thought it couldn't get any worse, he said, "And, and, and . . . ." It was like that scene in My Cousin Vinnie with the court appointed attorney who stutters when he gets nervous. Of course I pointed this out to Amanda, which gave rise to the dreaded "church giggles"--second only to passing gas in an elevator, where one can only speculate who the culprit is.
It turns out, I'm next. I approach the judge, raise my right hand, and swear to tell the whole truth. (I find this ironic given the fact that someone else's half-truths is what landed me here in the first place, but whatever.)
I'm asked a series of questions that begin with Is it true?, to which I reply, yes. Except when asked if I'm pregnant. "God, no."
And then the judge announced in front of God and every body, "Your divorce is granted. Good luck to you."
I shook my attorney's hand, then turned to walk away. I hadn't taken more than two steps when I felt it. Something heavy flew off my chest. I'm not kidding. It startled me--in a good way.
This past year has been one of the most painful years of my life, but I feel the sun on my face again. God has given me peaceful resolve. It wasn't something He imparted on the surface. I have sought Him wholeheartedly and remaiined willing to feel and face some very difficult truths about my husband, my "friend", and myself.
This past Thursday, God, Himself, commanded the tears that I'd sown in His care to break through the ground. At last, I am free to bloom in my identity in Christ. I have no idea what is to come. Will I cry again? Perhaps. But I feel certain, deep despair is gone. "Beauty for ashes," right girls?
The takeaway in this for me is Jeremiah 15: 19
Therefore, if you extract the precious from the worthless, you will become my spokesman.
You are not alone,
Published on Saturday, March 22, 2014 @ 10:18 AM CDT