. . Every time I hear the word ‘divorce’ I cringe. I cringe because it is a word that is so laden with judgement and so laden with pain. Within the church, the grief associated with divorce is two-fold. There is the pain of a lost relationship and the guilt for having broken what God Himself has joined. The torment is at times excruciating. In the Blogosphere I come across a lot of well meaning posts about the evils of divorce, the pain and torment for children who come from broken families, and the selfishness of adults who do divorce. I am drawn to them all like a moth to a flame, and like a moth to a flame I end up burnt.
. .Burnt because, I am divorced. Moreover, I am a Christian who is divorced.
. .I didn’t want to write about this but now I feel compelled. I am writing this blog with a nom de plume so that I can share details of my life while maintaining some degree of privacy. Today, I want to share the struggle divorce entails. I do not necessarily want to refute those who write about the evils, the pain and the selfishness of divorce. I simply want to share a story so that those of you who are unaware of what it is like to divorce may gain a little insight and those of you who know the pain of divorce may find some comfort. This is a story I have been trying to write for years, but have not found the words to do so until now.
. .When I was younger, I lived in a Christian community where we studied theology for five hours of the day and worked on a farm for another five hours of the day. Our work on the farm paid for our studies and our living expenses. At the end of each week we were given a small allowance. The community was made up of families, older couples, and a lot of young adults. It was in this community that I met the man I was to love. He was from another country, we looked quite different, spoke quite differently, had grown up quite differently, yet we loved the same God. The one true God. This man I met was gentle but strong, loving, generous, and kind. He loved to pray. He understood and studied theology with me. We worked together in the vineyards; amongst the cauliflowers; the lettuce; the beans; and the turf. We went running in the rain. We climbed trees and gazed through the opening in the branches to look at the stars. We felt closer to God in our tree as we looked up through ‘the window to heaven.’ We sang together. He taught me songs in his language, I taught him songs in mine. We harmonised. We became very good friends. And then I moved away. We stayed in touch. We met up again. We knew we loved each other.
. .He went home to his country and we spoke daily on the phone. We sent love letters and gifts across the ocean. We prayed that if it was God’s will, we would be married. Eventually we became engaged. Still, there were numerous obstacles, visas, money, the vast expanse of land and ocean between us. After many long months the visa was granted, the plane tickets bought, we were to be married. And married we were.
. .Yet two years into the marriage the man I loved became increasingly violent. He started by throwing objects at me: things I liked: cups, pictures, our baby’s toys. Then he started to punch holes in the wall right next to my head. His fist would fly past so fast that I would feel the breeze on my nose and wait for the blow to land on my face. His fist would go through the wall next to me instead. Then he took to backing me against the wall and putting his fist through the picture frames I stood underneath till glass showered down upon my head. He’d restrain me, hit me about the side of my head till thunder resounded between my ears with such mighty clasps I thought my head would explode and then I’d hear nothing but ringing. The blows got steadily harder. Somewhere amidst all this I fell pregnant with our second child. Then the man I still loved threw things at my child-laden belly. Our second child was born. The violence continued. I told my pastor’s wife. She said the violence had to stop. I said, “I know, but how?” Her solution was to “love him into change.” I loved him. He didn’t change. I prayed for him. He didn’t change. I cried and pleaded with God, “This is your will, God! We asked you….we said, ‘If it is your will…’” He didn’t change. In fact, he got worse.
. .The violence increased to fortnightly instead of monthly and the strength of his blows increased also. By the time we had been married for three years I was convinced that the only way I was ever to get out of this situation was if I died. I was distraught. Every place that I had sought help had failed, my church and my God had both abandoned me. My family fought to keep the children and myself safe and often caught the brunt of the violence in their attempts to get us out of the house. But there was no solution. Divorce was not an option. I had no Biblical grounds for divorce: there had been no adultery. I had married for life, till death us do part. And I thought death would.
. .Death was my only way out. It seemed to me that the best solution to this problem would be if I was killed at the hands of my husband, he was found guilty of my murder and my parents took responsibility for our children. I was waiting for him to kill me, trying to keep the children safe as he did.
. .It all seems so ridiculous now, that I could ever have been thinking that way. Why didn’t I just leave? My conviction about marriage was so strong that I was unwilling to break my commitment to my husband for anything – even if my life depended upon it. So, I stayed.
. .Until a final assault. My injuries brought me to the emergency department of the local hospital where my mum decided to call the police. Two burly male officers and a female police woman surveyed my injuries and took no pains to mask their shock. They gasped at the marks of four long fingers and one thumb that were left around my throat. They swore at the state of my eye which was swollen shut and blackened half of my face. They perused my other injuries and took the matter out of my hands, arrested my husband and placed an interim Apprehended Violence Order (AVO) between us. I didn’t see him again till court two weeks later.
. .He turned up, with our minister for support who tried to convince me to forget about an AVO: it wasn’t godly, it wasn’t in the best interests of the children. I explained that I had no choice it was a matter for the courts to decide. With my injuries still clearly visible the magistrate decided to prolong the AVO for another two years. I was relieved but devastated. I couldn’t understand how a secular agency could determine the fate of my marriage. I wanted to defy it and live happily forever after. I wanted to reconcile with my husband. Two weeks later I discovered my husband had also been cheating on me for the duration of our marriage. I was broken. Completely.
My heart cried the words of Psalm 55
“If an enemy were insulting me,
I could endure it;
if a foe were raising himself against me,
I could hide from him.
But it is you, a man like myself,
my companion, my close friend,
with whom I enjoyed sweet
fellowship
as we walked with the throng at the
house of God.
…My companion attacks his friends;
he violates his covenant.
His speech is smooth as butter,
yet war is in his heart;
his words are more soothing than oil,
yet they are drawn swords.” (v12-14 & 20-21)
. .It takes a year of separation to be able to apply for a divorce in Australia. It was a year I spent investigating every little detail of God’s intentions for marriage; Jesus’ instructions regarding divorce (Mark 10); Paul’s writings on divorce; and quizzing my pastor on the exact meaning of this greek word and that greek word. I continued to wear my wedding rings but every time I put them on, I’d vomit.
. .My husband made it clear that he was not interested in reconciliation. To be honest, after discovering the extent of his adultery, I was unable to imagine reconciliation unless so many things changed dramatically. He considered our marriage over already. He was unwilling to seek help and change.
. .It took me a very long time to recognise that the divorce took place the moment my husband decided to break his vows to me; the moment he cheated; the moment he broke my face; our covenant; our home. We divorced and I discovered what it really means for the two who have become one flesh to be ripped in two again.
. .In Bible study some time later, a friend was explaining the traditional Jewish way of making a covenant. In Genesis 15, God makes a covenant with Abram. God promises Abram that he will have an heir from his own body and his offspring will be as numerous as the stars (v4&5). In order to seal this promise God instructs Abram to “bring …a heifer, a goat and a ram, each three years old, along with a dove and a pigeon,” (v9). So Abram brings them. Then he cuts them into two, except for the birds and he lays them out with each half facing the other (v 10).
. .Traditionally in Jewish culture, when a covenant was made between two parties, the animals were laid out as described and both parties walked between the halves of the carcases. As they walked the lesser party would say to the greater, “If I break my covenant may it be so done to me,” meaning, if I break my promise may I be torn in two like the animals beside us. It was a bloody and graphic reminder of the enormity of a promise. Moreover, it was a graphic reminder of the consequences of breaking one.
. .What is interesting in Genesis 15 is that although Abram is clearly the lesser party, in this instance, God sends Abram into a “deep sleep,” (v12) and God, in the form of a “smoking firepot with a blazing torch appeared and passed between the pieces [and] on that day the LORD made a covenant with Abram” (v17&18). By this stage you may be asking yourself, “What does all this have to do with divorce?” A very good question…
. .When my friend was explaining Genesis 15 to me, suddenly, a light bulb came on for me. My friend said,
“It’s really quite amazing because it is like the way God is making a covenant with his people. Yet God, by passing through the animals instead of Abram, is actually saying, ‘If YOU break your covenant with me may I be broken in two like these animals.’ He is taking the consequence of our broken promises upon himself.”
He went on, “I get it because it is what happens when Jesus comes to earth as a man, but I don’t get the tearing in two part ’cause they were never really torn apart…”
At this point I gasped, and said, “But they were!” remembering Jesus’ cry on the cross, “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?” – which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34).
. .It was at this point that I realised that God knows what it is like to be divorced. He knows it because he has experienced it both through the way we choose to live apart from Him, and through Jesus’ death, when two (three including the Spirit) who are also one are torn apart. God has experienced the unity of fellowship and the pain caused by the breaking of a covenant. It is profound. The pain of divorce is profound. The pain of a broken covenant is profound. The fact that God, a perfect promise keeping God should subject Himself to being torn in two is amazingly profound. Yet what is even more amazing still, is that God being torn in two also provided the means of repairing the broken relationship between us and God. It is completely amazing.
. .I now understand that when God says, “I hate divorce” (Malachi 2:16), He doesn’t mean He hates me. He hates divorce because He knows how destructive it is, how painful, and how it leaves us so broken like the bloodied animals. It is because God knows this pain that I can approach Him with mine and find comfort. Moreover, I can approach Him if I have broken a covenant, my covenant with Him, because He has been torn in two so we can be restored to a right relationship with Him.
. . Divorce is painful, being ripped in two is, but there is comfort for those who have felt the pain of a broken covenant and forgiveness for those who have broken covenants. And because not one of us can say, “I have been faithfully obedient to God in every area of my life forever,” we find ourselves all covenant breakers in need of forgiveness. Thank God he offers it.
. .Burnt because, I am divorced. Moreover, I am a Christian who is divorced.
. .I didn’t want to write about this but now I feel compelled. I am writing this blog with a nom de plume so that I can share details of my life while maintaining some degree of privacy. Today, I want to share the struggle divorce entails. I do not necessarily want to refute those who write about the evils, the pain and the selfishness of divorce. I simply want to share a story so that those of you who are unaware of what it is like to divorce may gain a little insight and those of you who know the pain of divorce may find some comfort. This is a story I have been trying to write for years, but have not found the words to do so until now.
. .When I was younger, I lived in a Christian community where we studied theology for five hours of the day and worked on a farm for another five hours of the day. Our work on the farm paid for our studies and our living expenses. At the end of each week we were given a small allowance. The community was made up of families, older couples, and a lot of young adults. It was in this community that I met the man I was to love. He was from another country, we looked quite different, spoke quite differently, had grown up quite differently, yet we loved the same God. The one true God. This man I met was gentle but strong, loving, generous, and kind. He loved to pray. He understood and studied theology with me. We worked together in the vineyards; amongst the cauliflowers; the lettuce; the beans; and the turf. We went running in the rain. We climbed trees and gazed through the opening in the branches to look at the stars. We felt closer to God in our tree as we looked up through ‘the window to heaven.’ We sang together. He taught me songs in his language, I taught him songs in mine. We harmonised. We became very good friends. And then I moved away. We stayed in touch. We met up again. We knew we loved each other.
. .He went home to his country and we spoke daily on the phone. We sent love letters and gifts across the ocean. We prayed that if it was God’s will, we would be married. Eventually we became engaged. Still, there were numerous obstacles, visas, money, the vast expanse of land and ocean between us. After many long months the visa was granted, the plane tickets bought, we were to be married. And married we were.
. .Yet two years into the marriage the man I loved became increasingly violent. He started by throwing objects at me: things I liked: cups, pictures, our baby’s toys. Then he started to punch holes in the wall right next to my head. His fist would fly past so fast that I would feel the breeze on my nose and wait for the blow to land on my face. His fist would go through the wall next to me instead. Then he took to backing me against the wall and putting his fist through the picture frames I stood underneath till glass showered down upon my head. He’d restrain me, hit me about the side of my head till thunder resounded between my ears with such mighty clasps I thought my head would explode and then I’d hear nothing but ringing. The blows got steadily harder. Somewhere amidst all this I fell pregnant with our second child. Then the man I still loved threw things at my child-laden belly. Our second child was born. The violence continued. I told my pastor’s wife. She said the violence had to stop. I said, “I know, but how?” Her solution was to “love him into change.” I loved him. He didn’t change. I prayed for him. He didn’t change. I cried and pleaded with God, “This is your will, God! We asked you….we said, ‘If it is your will…’” He didn’t change. In fact, he got worse.
. .The violence increased to fortnightly instead of monthly and the strength of his blows increased also. By the time we had been married for three years I was convinced that the only way I was ever to get out of this situation was if I died. I was distraught. Every place that I had sought help had failed, my church and my God had both abandoned me. My family fought to keep the children and myself safe and often caught the brunt of the violence in their attempts to get us out of the house. But there was no solution. Divorce was not an option. I had no Biblical grounds for divorce: there had been no adultery. I had married for life, till death us do part. And I thought death would.
. .Death was my only way out. It seemed to me that the best solution to this problem would be if I was killed at the hands of my husband, he was found guilty of my murder and my parents took responsibility for our children. I was waiting for him to kill me, trying to keep the children safe as he did.
. .It all seems so ridiculous now, that I could ever have been thinking that way. Why didn’t I just leave? My conviction about marriage was so strong that I was unwilling to break my commitment to my husband for anything – even if my life depended upon it. So, I stayed.
. .Until a final assault. My injuries brought me to the emergency department of the local hospital where my mum decided to call the police. Two burly male officers and a female police woman surveyed my injuries and took no pains to mask their shock. They gasped at the marks of four long fingers and one thumb that were left around my throat. They swore at the state of my eye which was swollen shut and blackened half of my face. They perused my other injuries and took the matter out of my hands, arrested my husband and placed an interim Apprehended Violence Order (AVO) between us. I didn’t see him again till court two weeks later.
. .He turned up, with our minister for support who tried to convince me to forget about an AVO: it wasn’t godly, it wasn’t in the best interests of the children. I explained that I had no choice it was a matter for the courts to decide. With my injuries still clearly visible the magistrate decided to prolong the AVO for another two years. I was relieved but devastated. I couldn’t understand how a secular agency could determine the fate of my marriage. I wanted to defy it and live happily forever after. I wanted to reconcile with my husband. Two weeks later I discovered my husband had also been cheating on me for the duration of our marriage. I was broken. Completely.
My heart cried the words of Psalm 55
“If an enemy were insulting me,
I could endure it;
if a foe were raising himself against me,
I could hide from him.
But it is you, a man like myself,
my companion, my close friend,
with whom I enjoyed sweet
fellowship
as we walked with the throng at the
house of God.
…My companion attacks his friends;
he violates his covenant.
His speech is smooth as butter,
yet war is in his heart;
his words are more soothing than oil,
yet they are drawn swords.” (v12-14 & 20-21)
. .It takes a year of separation to be able to apply for a divorce in Australia. It was a year I spent investigating every little detail of God’s intentions for marriage; Jesus’ instructions regarding divorce (Mark 10); Paul’s writings on divorce; and quizzing my pastor on the exact meaning of this greek word and that greek word. I continued to wear my wedding rings but every time I put them on, I’d vomit.
. .My husband made it clear that he was not interested in reconciliation. To be honest, after discovering the extent of his adultery, I was unable to imagine reconciliation unless so many things changed dramatically. He considered our marriage over already. He was unwilling to seek help and change.
. .It took me a very long time to recognise that the divorce took place the moment my husband decided to break his vows to me; the moment he cheated; the moment he broke my face; our covenant; our home. We divorced and I discovered what it really means for the two who have become one flesh to be ripped in two again.
. .In Bible study some time later, a friend was explaining the traditional Jewish way of making a covenant. In Genesis 15, God makes a covenant with Abram. God promises Abram that he will have an heir from his own body and his offspring will be as numerous as the stars (v4&5). In order to seal this promise God instructs Abram to “bring …a heifer, a goat and a ram, each three years old, along with a dove and a pigeon,” (v9). So Abram brings them. Then he cuts them into two, except for the birds and he lays them out with each half facing the other (v 10).
. .Traditionally in Jewish culture, when a covenant was made between two parties, the animals were laid out as described and both parties walked between the halves of the carcases. As they walked the lesser party would say to the greater, “If I break my covenant may it be so done to me,” meaning, if I break my promise may I be torn in two like the animals beside us. It was a bloody and graphic reminder of the enormity of a promise. Moreover, it was a graphic reminder of the consequences of breaking one.
. .What is interesting in Genesis 15 is that although Abram is clearly the lesser party, in this instance, God sends Abram into a “deep sleep,” (v12) and God, in the form of a “smoking firepot with a blazing torch appeared and passed between the pieces [and] on that day the LORD made a covenant with Abram” (v17&18). By this stage you may be asking yourself, “What does all this have to do with divorce?” A very good question…
. .When my friend was explaining Genesis 15 to me, suddenly, a light bulb came on for me. My friend said,
“It’s really quite amazing because it is like the way God is making a covenant with his people. Yet God, by passing through the animals instead of Abram, is actually saying, ‘If YOU break your covenant with me may I be broken in two like these animals.’ He is taking the consequence of our broken promises upon himself.”
He went on, “I get it because it is what happens when Jesus comes to earth as a man, but I don’t get the tearing in two part ’cause they were never really torn apart…”
At this point I gasped, and said, “But they were!” remembering Jesus’ cry on the cross, “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?” – which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34).
. .It was at this point that I realised that God knows what it is like to be divorced. He knows it because he has experienced it both through the way we choose to live apart from Him, and through Jesus’ death, when two (three including the Spirit) who are also one are torn apart. God has experienced the unity of fellowship and the pain caused by the breaking of a covenant. It is profound. The pain of divorce is profound. The pain of a broken covenant is profound. The fact that God, a perfect promise keeping God should subject Himself to being torn in two is amazingly profound. Yet what is even more amazing still, is that God being torn in two also provided the means of repairing the broken relationship between us and God. It is completely amazing.
. .I now understand that when God says, “I hate divorce” (Malachi 2:16), He doesn’t mean He hates me. He hates divorce because He knows how destructive it is, how painful, and how it leaves us so broken like the bloodied animals. It is because God knows this pain that I can approach Him with mine and find comfort. Moreover, I can approach Him if I have broken a covenant, my covenant with Him, because He has been torn in two so we can be restored to a right relationship with Him.
. . Divorce is painful, being ripped in two is, but there is comfort for those who have felt the pain of a broken covenant and forgiveness for those who have broken covenants. And because not one of us can say, “I have been faithfully obedient to God in every area of my life forever,” we find ourselves all covenant breakers in need of forgiveness. Thank God he offers it.
posted by missmellifluous at 8:57 pm
24 Comments:
Dear, dear sister,
I pray that God would comfort you and strengthen you and build your foundation in Him deep and strong for I believe with all my heart that He has been glorified in your life and in your testimony. I am deeply moved and I thank God for His faithfulness to you. You are a choice vessel in His hand:
"But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. 8 We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; 9 persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; 10 always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. 11 For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. 12 So death is at work in us, but life in you.
13 Since we have the same spirit of faith according to what has been written, “I believed, and so I spoke,” we also believe, and so we also speak, 14 knowing that he who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also with Jesus and bring us with you into his presence. 15 For it is all for your sake, so that as grace extends to more and more people it may increase thanksgiving, to the glory of God.
16 So we do not lose heart. Though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day. 17 For this slight momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, 18 as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal."
What a story. My heart goes out to you for the pain you endured, and not just the physical pain. But rather, the pain of feeling betrayed by the one to whom you'd committeed.
I couldn't add anything to Kim's words above.
Thanks for stopping by mine. I agree with your view on this and how it correlates with God's perspective on this as well.
I think that the pain of adultery and divorce is something that no human can understand unless they have walked through it. I would not wish that pain on anyone.
You did a great job putting it all into words. My prayers will be with you.
Thank you all!
A very sad article. Historically, churches have had a way to deal with this matter. You obviously needed to be separated from this man for you safety and the safety of your children.
TrueMarriage.net deals with some of these issues.
Hi fidelity,
I was thinking about what you wrote you are completelyy right in saying that the children and I needed to seperate from my ex to maintain our safety and while you are right in saying it is a sad story, I don't completely feel that way about it. Aspects of it are sad and indeed tragic, yet, without having gone through this I'm not sure that I would have realised that God will never abandon me - no matter what.
The great thing about this story is that I have gained more than I lost. God pulled me out of a situation I wouldn't have left. He used the police and the law to remove my children and myself from a dangerous situation. As a result I know more fully that He really does care and love us, He is not sitting back doing nothing while bad things happen; and I understand more fully the destructive nature of life without God; what an empty relationship feels like, and how much we must really pain Him when we hurt each other and ignore Him.
There's heaps more good that has come out of this too. So, while the betrayal, abuse, and divorce were completely awful, I can still say God is good! And in control. And He knows what He's doing. What I've lost is nothing compared to what I've gained.
My dear sister,
I came across your blog tonight and as I read this post I am absolutely heartbroken reading what you went through. I can hardly imagine the pain. I'm glad you're still with us.
I agree Kim from Hiraeth ( she quoted the passage of scripture that has moved me lately more than any other ... even now I had to stop typing for a couple minutes)
You have an awesome story that needs to be told. I'm praying for your continual healing and His power for your ministry
Glad you found your way here, coffeeman,
I'd like to hear about what you learnt from the verses Kim quoted sometime. They are amazing verses! I am going to be reading over them for a while yet...just to let them sink in.
Thanks for your prayers.
I'm a little late to post on this.. but wanted to let you know how much I admire you for sharing this. I know this took a lot of courage for you!! It was so personal, so revealing, so heart wrenching. But you did it ever so well. What courage friend!! not only to post this... but to have survived that with a heart still tender towards the things of God! Now that is courage and faith lived out!
You are so strong, yet thankfully not hard-hearted. God bless you & your children.
I was directed to your post via the blog Wittingshire. Thank you. I did not experience the direct physical violence that you experienced, but violence and betrayal come in many forms, all soul-searing.
May the Lord bless and keep you and your precious children~
Hi Renee,
I wondered where all that extra traffic was coming from. Welcome.
May God bless you, too!
A powerful and moving piece. I'm so grateful to you for writing it, and so glad that you are in a happier place now.
Thank you for sharing that. When I was a teen, my mother married, and for a few years, things were great. Then he started to beat her, and he sexually abused my sister and me. We were very new in the church, and he was more learned. He would twist the scripture so that we felt he was in the right. It got to the point where my mother told me it would be better if we all died, because she didn't believe the church condoned divorce. Fortunately, my pastor is a godly man. He supported her decision to leave my step-father, who didn't attempt to change or reconcile.
I will pray for you and your children. Blessed be the name of the Lord.
If there are any beaten sisters out there reading this, I'd like to say that I have always thought the commandment "you shall not murder" makes it legitimate to divorce your husband should his violence be life-threatening. This commandment requires that you take reasonable steps to preserve your life and that your children's lives. I don't know if others agree with my interpretation but I offer it in hopes of helping women who may be in a bad situation.
Thank you for posting this and opening up your heart. No one can possible understand the tearing apart of one flesh until they have went through a divorce. I understand, as I have been there. I did not understand the covenant of Abraham and God until now. Wow... it has really spoken to my heart.
I, too, like Janet had never really understood the covenant between God and Abraham. Wow. Your post has humbled me. I have been divorced for a very long time and came to know the Lord after my divorce. Thank you for opening up your past. God bless you!
Thankyou for all your comments. I am so glad that my story can have a positive impact on those that are hurting or have been hurt through divorce or/and abuse.
Your stories touch me as well!
I plan to post again on my ideas, which are grounded in scripture, on when divorce is permissable as one of the big questions for me on divorcing was "How can I trust and follow a God who allows me to divorce my husband if he commits adultery but not if he tries to kill me?" It did not make sense. I wrestled with this issue for a long time.
In some upcoming posts I will share my struggle and the hope and comfort I found in searching for an answer to this, and so many other, questions. I will address Marie's question here.
The post will appear in the next couple of days, soplease, stay tuned. For now, the sun is shining like a spring day rather than a winter one, and there are amazing ships on the harbour and dinosaurs in museums so my children and I are having an excursion.
Oh oh oh... I have no words. I'm so sorry you had to go through such pain...But I praise God for His grace shining through you in this blog!
I wish I had the words and knowledge to allow me to state what you have so clearly said here. I understand some of your suffering, I too am divorced, I too understand why God hates divorce, the breaking of any covenant.
Amazing Love, indeed!
dear missmellifluous,
this has been linked to a LiveJournal community i'm in; it is how i found your story. i am so glad you managed to remove yourself from that relationship. and i believe that your god will pull you up & raise you back into happiness again.
Hi Anonymous,
Welcome. Thanks for letting me know you dropped by. I hope the post was of some worth to you and your community.
Best wishes to you all,
I guess I have really picked up the ball late.
May I say how sorry I am that your pastor tried to talk you out of the AVO. I feel so sorry that you had to endure that, on top of everything else.
May I say how glad I am your mother's pastor insisted on helping her separate and divorce from your step father.
Steve
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