Dear 21 Year Old Self…

060107 129Twelve years ago – on this very day (as Shutterfly so aptly reminded me) – I was saying “I do” for the first time in my life.

I was young, naïve, blissfully ignorant…. And so, so, so misinformed.

I meant the words I said with all of my 21-year-old heart, but I was ill-equipped to fulfill them.

I was short-tempered, self-righteous, and lacked any understanding of the word Grace whatsoever.

The bigger problem was my mountain of unrealistic expectations.  I was expecting marriage to fulfill me. My husband to complete me. And thought we would live happily-ever-after day-after-day.

I read recently that, “Expectations are disappointments waiting to happen.”

I did not hide my disappointment in my first husband.

Soon, disappointment led to disenchantment.  Then to disdain and disgust.  Which eventually led to the most gut-wrenching D-word of all: Divorce.  And that led to months and years of darkness and depression.20190607_210309

But tonight, 12 years later, I’m sitting on my deck watching the sunset, listening to my husband chipping golfballs in our backyard. My life has been totally redeemed.

If I could go back and talk to the girl in this photo, I would explain that marriage is not so much about who you are married to, but how you are in the marriage.

This marriage is honestly not terribly different than the last.

My husband still does things that annoy me, sometimes forgets things, or breaks a promise… we disagree, argue and sometimes even shout at each other.

My marriage is imperfect. My husband is imperfect.

Unfortunately, it took my entire life falling apart to realize that so am I.

But the breaking of me made way for the best of me in its place.

A friend recently asked me if I knew what I knew now, could I have made my first marriage work? My answer was yes, but, I wouldn’t know what I know now had I not gone through my first marriage failing.

I had to be humbled. Today, I am patient and kind (on my good days!), but most of all, I am full of grace.

I know the last time my husband and I argued, will not be the last time we argue. I know the last time he broke a promise, will not be the last time he breaks a promise. Or the last time he hurt me will be the last time he hurts me.

But I have done those things too. And I will do them again. At times, I take him for granted, and often don’t speak to him in a polite tone.

I have a limitless supply of grace for him and he does for me.

I would tell the young girl in the white dress that grace – not love, as we were sold – is the most important part of making a marriage work.

There is an indescribable peace that comes with knowing that despite your imperfections – even at your ugliest, even when you don’t deserve it – the other person is never giving up on you.

This is exactly how Jesus love us.

And giving that peace to another human being is what walking out a lifetime of real love looks like.

Jesus with Skin on

Earlier this Spring, my husband took a group of high school guys to an event our church coordinates called “MAN CAMP“. He left Friday morning before I woke up, so when I came into the kitchen to fix myself breakfast, I found a note waiting for me.

It started with “Morning Rach! A few things…” and I felt myself bristle. I expected it to be a list of things he wanted me to do/take care of while he was gone.

Because that’s the kind of note I would have left him.

In fact, I had been leaving him lots of notes like that lately, because in my opinion, he had been increasingly pulling less and less of his weight around the house, leaving things undone that I had to pick up the slack on, or remind him about for the 400th time. I constantly noticed things he was not doing more than the things he was, and found myself brewing about broken promises and bad habits – past or present – with increasing frequency.

He would be the first to tell you, not all of my thoughts and feelings were unmerited. But, they were taking over the driver’s seat of my mind and the climate of our marriage.

If I’m being totally honest, I have actually been quite an A-hole to my husband as of late. My tone with him is sharp, bitter, and often cutting, even when I don’t intend for it to be.

And, what I let come out of my mouth pales in comparison to the thoughts that have been occupying my mind more often than not.

I’ve found myself feeling disgusted, bordering on contempt. Even though I don’t want to feel this way.

But as I read through the rest of his note, instead of to-do’s, it was a bulleted list of a love letter:

  1. I love you unconditionally with all my heart.
  2. I hope you are feeling much better this morning.
  3. I appreciate you.
  4. I miss you already.
  5. Enjoy your weekend with the girls.
  6. Thanks for being you. For your joyful spirit, youthful zest for life, infectious laughter (it makes me smile to hear you laugh), your heart for God that is full of all the loves, your grace and kindness, and for choosing me to live life with.

As tears filled my eyes, my gut twisted with guilt and I thought:

how on earth can he still think these things about me?

This is the guy who sees me at my worst. At my most disgusting, my least people-skilled. I have been wretched to him at times.

Then I thought, if he even remotely had a glimpse inside my thoughts about him lately, there’s no way he would have written these things.

And suddenly, I was awash with the revelation of Jesus’ love and grace – all over again.

He whispered in my heart, I know about ALL your thoughts, and I still love you like that.

My husband, in that moment, was a very real Jesus-with-skin-on to me.

Have you ever heard that term? I remember when a friend of mine told me her husband had been Jesus-with-skin-on to her early in their dating, while she was still recovering from her divorce and struggling to trust again. It was such a clear picture of behavior, and the image stuck in my brain. But I don’t think I had ever experienced it so evidently in my own life until the very moment I was holding that note.

Have you ever experienced that type of love?

That same week, I started a new devotional by Mark & Jill Savage called “10 Days to a Better Marriage” (it’s an excerpt from their book, “No More Perfect Marriages“). And Day 5 slapped me right in the face that weekend as the authors wrote about using the “tool of the Grace Space” with your spouse. Read what I did:

Grace is a free gift from God. Because of Jesus, we deserve punishment but we get mercy instead. It’s an upside-down response to what we deserve. God gives us grace because of who He is. We don’t earn it. We don’t even deserve it.

…Grace Space happens when we allow another person to be human, to make mistakes, to be imperfect and to have their own indiosyncrasies.

Grace is a first cousin of forgiveness. We use this tool when dealing with the harmless habits that bug us but don’t really hurt us. Like coffee [stains]. Or leaving the lights on. Or leaving the toilet seat up. Or when our spouse does things differently than we would.

When thinking through whether something needs forgiveness or grace, ask yourself these two questions:

  1. Does this hurt me or just irritate me?
  2. Does this need to be corrected or simply accepted as part of being married to an imperfect person?

Grace is a beautiful gift to give our spouse, especially if he/she is aware of places where he/she falls short or has bad habits. Grace replaces criticism. Even if he/she isn’t aware of their shortcomings, you can use your tool of grace.

Next time you’re tempted to criticize, stop and pull grace out of your marriage toolbox. Ask yourself if this is an offense or an irritation. If it’s an offense, offer forgiveness before you address it, and if it’s simply bumping into your spouses human limitations [or imperfections], offer grace.

Ouch.

I had been doing the exact opposite of all of this. I was letting myself get offended over immaterial irritations. That certainly was a wake-up call.

I had forgotten the things I already learned – and even written about in my own book! I felt like a total hypocrite.

I had let myself get to a place where I was letting Barry’s actions – or inactions – affect my mood and determine my behavior, instead of giving him the benefit of the doubt and extending grace for his shortcomings.

I felt shameful for getting this so wrong, while my husband was obviously walking this out so well for me.

But, I was so glad for the revelation and reminders.

Our next date night, I brought up his note, and the things I had been learning. I apologized for being focused on the wrong things and let him know how he had shown Jesus to me. He told me he knew what had been inside my head, as I wasn’t very good at hiding it on my face. There was a lot of crying. And freedom. And a sense of cleansing and refreshing.

Have I totally fixed my thoughts since then? No. Have I gotten better and do I catch myself going down that road quicker? Yes.

It is, and will continue to be a process. A daily decision to pull out my God-tool of Grace, rather than giving Barry the reaction he “deserves” from me. I don’t deserve the amount of patience I get from God (or my husband), as I figure all this marriage stuff out, but I have an endless supply. And so do you.

“No marriage crumbles in a day. It’s a drift of one centimeter to another, one feeling or one decision that leads to another feeling or decision that’s a little off-center.
If left unaddressed, those things will draw us away from each other instead of toward each other, creating a fade of feelings.” – Mark & Jill Savage

God Will Never Give You Someone Else’s Husband

appy new year!.jpg

A friend of mine recently posted this image on Facebook and I was torn by it. While I wholeheartedly agree with its truthful message, I was a little jarred by its delivery.

In my past life, I would have reposted the image with hearty agreement, and all the judgment and condemnation I could muster to go along with it.

(Note: I’m not criticizing the poster for posting. I don’t know her story. Maybe there’s a woman pursuing her husband right now, and these words are coming from a fragile, threatened heart? I’m just saying in my past life, I would have clicked “post” from a place of self-righteous pride.)

But for me today, my heart is much more compassionate to the people who find themselves in these fallen relationships. I’m not justifying their actions or behavior, it’s wrong. But I understand it.

While I was married to my first husband, I had an affair.

Well, more than one actually if you count emotional affairs – which you should – because an affair is an affair. Anytime you give any part of yourself to someone else other than your spouse, you’re having an affair. My husband had affairs too. We were both so longing for the things missing in our marriage, we desperately sought to find them outside of it.

This isn’t something that I have ever talked about on social media, but if you’ve read my book “Now What?” then you already know.

My husband and I tried to fix our marriage at first but eventually it just became easier to get what we were looking for from someone else rather than from one another.

During that time, I convinced myself that God wanted me to be happy (not miserable like I was in my marriage) and this new person was who I had been waiting for all along. I reasoned that I had made a mistake in marrying my first husband and now God was making it right by blessing me with this new, perfect person.

In my moments of clarity, I would have thoughts like, Rachel don’t be an idiot, God wouldn’t give you someone else’s husband. That man isn’t yours to have. But what I’ve found about people contemplating or going through an affair, is that their moments of mental clarity are starkly fewer and far in between their moments of mental disorientation.

When you’re involved in an affair, you effectively take your brain out of your head, put it in a box, and slide it under your bed for a while.

You can’t think straight because you’re emotions are overpowering your logic and reason. Your hurt, your desires, the unmet, unfulfilled longings in the deepest part of your heart and soul are steering your decision making. You will literally do, think, and say anything to obtain what you think you are missing, the things you think are going to make you feel better – without considering any of the consequences. You imagine this person/relationship and all that comes with them is going to fix your problems and your pain, that they will fill up those gaping holes inside your heart.

But none of that is true.

Now don’t get me wrong, what you get from an affair, of course, is fun and exciting and fulfilling – utterly exhilarating, actually….

…for a very short period of time.

Eventually, the facade crumbles.

And, just like every other relationship you’ve ever been in, the honeymoon ends. That’s when you realize what you’re stuck with and what you’ve done and all the havoc you’ve wreaked. You can suddenly see clearly how much hurt and pain you’ve caused, not only in your own life and family, but in another family’s life and potentially, in the lives of everyone around you.

Listen to me: I PROMISE you the fleeting moments of temporary pleasure and ecstasy are nowhere near the weight of the long-term effects that an affair brings.

This is a tough topic for me to address because I know what this mental state is like. It’s like a heavy cloud of total fog; deception.

I know the crushing pain and disappointment and betrayal of a broken marriage is so real, that you will reach and claw and grasp for anything to try to numb and medicate that pain.

Since going through my own, I have had friends who have confided in me they are walking down the road of an affair. And while I’m glad they feel comfortable telling me – this is a totally judgment-free zone – I try to warn them it won’t be worth it.

But that isn’t something that you can even hear when you’re in that place. You can only figure it out for yourself. So it feels like a futile effort. What’s the point of even talking about it if I can’t open their eyes or change their minds?

One friend, who was having an affair with a married man, like I did, came to me in hopeful bliss. She talked about how her marriage had been dead for a while and told me about all her future plans with this new lover.

I desperately wanted to save her from the heartache I knew was in store for her. I assured her she would just end up alone and even more heartbroken.

“I’ve been there and done this, please believe me. Please use my experience as your lesson: This doesn’t work out for you, you don’t win, you do not get the guy. The married man never actually leaves his wife, no matter how many times he promises to.” I continued, “I get it. I know it feels good and right and blissful, like the most exciting thing in the world! But the aftermath, the amount of hurt and shame and regret that you will live with for years, is NOT worth it.”

Of course she didn’t listen.

She continued head-first into the affair, and when the guy continually made excuse after excuse for why he wasn’t leaving his wife “yet”, she eventually ended up with her heart broken.

So this is why I’m so torn, because I know I can’t stop the people in that place, on that brink, and it feels useless to even try. Why even bother?

You simply can’t know that it’s not worth it until you’ve experienced it for yourself.

Like trying to warn a toddler, “Don’t touch, it’s hot!” Does any toddler ever actually listen to that? (I’m not a parent, so I don’t know) But I feel like the answer is “No”. They have to touch it for themselves and get burned at least once, before they will learn and never do it again.

What’s more, I don’t even know what advice or consolation to offer you if you’re in that dark, lonely, hurting place in your marriage, because my marriage did not have a happy ending. We got a divorce. I am remarried to a totally different man.

I can recommend incredible marriage books and resources that could help you, but I only used these things as weapons against my first husband, they were not helpful for us.

I could tell you to seek marriage counseling, because I’m a big advocate for therapy, but, my ex-husband and I went to a year of marriage counseling and we still ended up divorced. So that’s not the silver bullet solution either.

Sometimes the idea of trying to help just feels overwhelming to me, like a lost cause. I just want to hug you and whisper to you, “I get it,” while you cry.

What I can tell you is that I am a completely different person now. I still deal with a lot of the same frustrations and issues in my second marriage that I did in my first marriage, but my perspective on them, on my husband, and on marriage in general, is entirely different than it was 10 years ago.

Before saying “I do” the second time around, I discovered I had an entire brain full of unhealthy expectations of what I “should” be getting from marriage and a marriage partner, and once I dumped those out and replaced them with right, healthy expectations, marriage got a whole lot easier for me. (And would be, no matter who I was married to.)

You see, no one human being is ever going to make you happy or fix your pain and problems. (Even though that’s the bill of goods you’ve been sold your whole life.)

It’s an impossibility. That’s not even what marriage is for or about. And once you stop looking to a person to do that for you, marriage becomes much simpler and enjoyable. Once you find a way to fill that emptiness outside of a human being, your disappointment in them dissipates. (Spoiler alert: I found out I could only be truly fulfilled through my relationship with God.)

There’s a lot more to this conversation, and there’s not enough room in this blog post for it. The entire 7th chapter of my book, “Now What?” is dedicated to everything I learned on my journey to remarriage. I recommend you grab a copy and flip to there if you are having, or have had an affair, or, you find yourself in a place of bitterness, resentment or discontent in your marriage currently.

Having had an affair is not something I’m proud of, and is not particularly comfortable to talk about. But I have found talking about the messy parts of my life makes people with similar stories feel not alone and gives them permission to share the messy stuff in their lives.

So…I don’t know if this blog will keep another person from having an affair, or save a family, or save a marriage, but if it does then it will all be worth it.

And PS, I’m here if you need to talk.

Wherever You Go, There You Are: How to Stop Running and Start Facing Life’s Challenges

wherever you go there you are.jpg
“Wherever you go, there you are.”

That simple, yet profound, quote is one of my favorites.  It plainly illustrates the truth that you can’t outrun your problems.  No matter how far you go or how hard you try.  Wherever you go, you will be there and until you deal with you, your problems won’t go away.

When I was working on my book, I had a vision for the second half to be a collection of stories from other people who had also been through what I called a “Now What? Moment”.  A moment when everything in your life comes crashing down around you and you stare hopelessly at the sky asking, “Now What?”

My mind went to work right away, I could think of dozens of people in my life who had been through life-altering, dream-shattering circumstances like I had.  I am beginning to believe almost every person on earth has been through something like this.  So, the challenge wasn’t finding someone who had been through, but finding people who had faced those challenges head on instead of running.  People who had – maybe even reluctantly like me – invited the redeeming, restorative power of God’s grace into those circumstances and come out healed and whole on the other side.

As I looked around me, I saw most people were just….running.

Filling their lives with things and activities and accomplishments and people to try and cover up or forget about what they had been through.  I watched people bounce from relationship to relationship, job to job or even move across the country to try and “start fresh”.

Of course I thought about doing that too after my divorce, but that quote haunted me on repeat in my mind, “wherever you go, there you are”.  I realized it wouldn’t do me any good to be anywhere else, or be with anyone else, if I wasn’t willing to face the mess inside of me.

So I did.

It was slow and painful and challenging.  It looked like professional therapy and non-professional therapy sessions with friends.  It looked like diving into books that radically changed the way I looked at and thought about the world.  About relationships. About marriage. About God.  Most of all, it looked like stopping the running, the grasping, and the pretending.

Pretending like everything was fine when it wasn’t.  Pretending like I was over it, when I was certainly not.  Pretending like there were no residual effects from the picture I held of my whole life being shattering to pieces.

Thankfully, I did find some other people who had been down this road, people who had wrestled with grit and grace themselves, and come out renewed on the other side.  And I was able to tell their stories in my book.  Their stories are wonderful and powerful and have impacted many lives already!

I met another person recently who has an incredible “Now What?” story.  Her name is Kimberly Dewberry, and I’d like to introduce her to you now. Kimberly writes and speaks to help other people deal with the fallout of living with alcoholic family members.  Having grown up with an alcoholic father and married to an alcoholic husband, she’s no stranger to this pain and predicament herself.  And she’s well-familiar with the mess that comes out of running, rather than facing, the issue.

Here is her story:

I’ve never been the athletic type. I’m the type of person who enjoys lazy Sunday afternoon naps after church. I love sitting at my desk as my fingernails click away at the keys. I’m perfectly content sleeping in on Saturdays. Plopping down on my end of the couch after a long day at the office and watching American Pickers is my idea of bliss. I’m not an extreme exerciser. I’m not into playing volleyball on a co-ed team at church. I’m not one of those people who goes for a run in the early morning. However, I once could be called an expert in running of a different sort.

The first time I made the decision to run came soon after my Dad began drinking again after years of sobriety. At 16, I couldn’t take the uncertainty of living in a home with an alcoholic. Too many days and nights of walking on eggshells, being ignored, or having yelling matches became too much for me. I decided to run away from home.

It didn’t last long, eventually I went back. So I dealt with the life of being a child of an alcoholic the best way I knew how. I told myself I only had one year left of school and then I could escape and have a peaceful life.

During my last year of high school, I dated different boys, looking for some sort of stability and love I felt I lacked.  And at 18, I married one of those boys. I found my escape. Or so I thought.

In truth, I had run away from one unstable situation into more chaos than I could ever imagined. I quickly had two babies and a life far less than I had dreamed.

I found out that running from one bad situation into another didn’t help my state of mind. The next eleven years brought heartache, depression, and thoughts of suicide.  If it were not for the grace of God, I would have made a permanent escape.

The darkness of the night I almost took my own life couldn’t compare to the darkness I had in my heart. On my way to the bathroom, where I walked to search for some pills that would do the trick, I looked on my dresser and there laid a pamphlet I had received at work that day. A phone number was listed beneath the words, “Need help?” I knew I needed help. I stopped and stared at it for a short while. Thoughts spinning in my mind. Suddenly, I felt my heart flutter. I grabbed the cordless phone, picked up the pamphlet and walked into the bathroom closing the door behind me. God’s love interceded and I called a suicide hotline.

In my selfish desperation to run away, I hadn’t thought about the consequences for the children I would be leaving behind.  It wasn’t my time.  God had work to do in me.

I accepted God’s healing that night, I found salvation the following Sunday, but my walk with Him was short lived. When things became too difficult again, I ran—from my life and God.

I divorced my first husband and remarried.  And seven years into that second marriage, the running shoes came out again.  I went my own way. I could handle things on my own. I didn’t need anyone’s help. Besides, I thought God wouldn’t want anything to do with someone like me. Someone who couldn’t even stay married. Someone who seemed to fail at everything. 

Soon after my second divorce, I reunited with my high school sweetheart and we married in the Fall. My expertise in running away from my problems seemed to have finally worked!  This was like a fairytale!

It wasn’t long before I realized the love of my life, my high school sweetheart, was in fact an alcoholic too.  I had only run in a circle.   

Over the first five years of our marriage we went from being inseparable to living separate lives under the same roof. I had settled into a mundane existence because I was tired of running. I couldn’t face the idea of yet another failed marriage. I was determined to stay married regardless of how awful it was.

During my life of running my Mom and Dad had separated. Mom moved in with me while Dad floated between different family members and eventually became homeless. He lived under bridges and in various homeless shelters. We didn’t know if he was dead or alive.

Then God decided to put an end to my running. Without any inclination or warning, my aunt called us to let us know Dad had been found in a local hospital with a broken hip and terminal stomach cancer. He somehow remembered her phone number and reached out to her. The doctor’s gave him a month to live, which he would spend in my home on hospice care.

God used the last three weeks of Dad’s life to teach me about his healing grace, mercy, and forgiveness. I had run from the chaos, but I could no longer run from God. He opened my eyes to my husband’s alcoholism. Patrick’s drinking had intensified over the five years of our marriage, but I thought I could fix it. God opened my eyes to my co-dependency and controlling behavior. At 16, when my Dad’s drinking started again, I felt out of control so controlling people, situations, and outcomes became my way of life.

God used the pain and grief of losing Dad to make me see that the only way to truly live is to be fully connected to a gracious, loving, merciful Heavenly Father. God is not like an earthly father, with faults and failings that you can run from. His love and timing are perfect, patiently waiting for us to grow weary of running from his open arms.

“He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.”

Ecclesiastes 3:11

Thankfully, God not only saved me, but He saved my husband, too.

A few weeks after my Dad died, I was yet again nudged by God. This time, though, He nudged me to confront Patrick about his alcoholism. My husband immediately stopped drinking but after a few weeks, he made comments to me insinuating it was a temporary situation. Again, God’s nudging persisted. I followed His lead and asked my husband to leave.

God had very important work to do and we were getting in His way. Only God knew we needed to be apart and alone so we could rely fully on Him. We both did just that.

As a result, Patrick and I rededicated our lives to Christ. We each committed our lives to God on the same day, within hours. Neither of us knew it until a few days later when we agreed to meet to talk. I am amazed by God’s handiwork in our marriage! I give Him all the glory for saving not only each of us but our marriage too.

Out of all of this, I have taken on an entirely new identity.  Despite the shortcomings of my earthly father, I am a child of God.  I no longer have the need to control others because I no longer need other people to make me happy or feel satisfied.  I have turned my life over to the care of my Heavenly Father. I no longer run away from problems that arise, instead I run to the One who saves me.

Jesus is my comforter.

He always has been and always will be.

And when life gets hard, I don’t have to run to anyone or anything but Him anymore.    

 

A Little More About Kimberly:

Kimberly Dewberry
I struggled for 25 years to cope with an addicted parent. I know first-hand how the serenity and peace of God’s redemption are keys to personal wholeness. In my weekly devotions, I share my story and provide valuable biblical principles for overcoming the effects of growing up with an addicted parent. Visit my blog or follow my social media!

11 Love Songs for the Lonely

I remember the first time I went grocery shopping alone as my marriage was disintegrating.  Grocery shopping was something we had always done together.

I was walking the aisles feeling pretty sorry for myself already when suddenly the PA system starts playing some 98 Degrees love song that sparked a memory of the beginning of our relationship. The season of it that was white-hot and whirlwind and so certainly God-and-cosmic-universe-ordained.  The part of our relationship that was nothing like what it was now.  The part when I could have never imagined I would ever be grocery shopping alone again for the rest of my life.  But here I was.

I absolutely lost it in right in aisle 9.  Right there between the butternut squash and the Bandaids was my utterly broken heart on display for the whole store to see.

Nick Lachey’s words only pointed out the stark difference of the fairytale I had signed up for and the reality in which I currently stood.  In those lyrics were broken dreams and unfulfilled longings and the end of life as I knew it.  It felt like my whole chest was being torn open with every new stanza.

That’s how powerful music is.  It stirs memories and emotions and dreams and desires.  It validates and magnifies the things we already feel, or long to feel.

You are likely being inundated with love songs this week as the clocks draws nearer to striking February 14th.

For those of you in that dizzying, blissful, infatuated “honeymoon phase” of a relationship, you are elated.  Those of us who find ourselves in a good, healthy, solid place relationally will be pleasantly satisfied and reassured.  But, for anyone who is walking the grocery aisle alone for the first time or for the first time in a long time, this post is for you.

Using the powerful tool that music is, I want to make you a Valentine’s Day playlist.  I’m titling it, “Love Songs from A Father” and it’s filled with lyrics that let me know how loved and held and treasured and valued I was when that was the furthest from what I felt.

Take a listen and rest this week in The Arms of the One who will never, ever, ever let you go:

You Are Loved, Stars Go Dim   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-YbdaR7Plac
Yours Forever, Dara Maclean   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YicZZtlB30Y
He is With You, Mandisa   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P3CVlv2dz3w
Wanted, Dara Maclean   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8C-povr7b6k
More Beautiful You, Jonny Diaz   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P8NvU9Ah-uY
Gold, Britt Nicole   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p9PjrtcHJPo
Come to Me, Jamie Grace   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JCbWzuMOoYw
Stronger, Mandisa    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=emgv-VRtMEU
All This Time, Britt Nicole   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HmTGLdSW5Sw
Not for a Moment (After All), Meredith Andrews    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qoh26pC2RT8
I Am Not Alone, Kari Jobe    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ow4OfW4DP9s

Want More?  My Book, “Now What? A Story of Broken Dreams and the God Who Restores Them” tells more of the story from the fallout season of my divorce, and also includes a “Now What? Moment” playlist that helped me through that season.  

5 Things to Remember if You’re Feeling Less-than-Loved

bonnie & Carole

Love.

That’s the theme of the entire month of February.

But for upwards of 50% of the population of the U.S., that’s not a theme worth celebrating. This month only serves as a painful reminder of heartaches and disenchantment from the Disney fairy-tale dream they were promised by today’s culture.

My divorce papers were served to me in February of 2011. I was 25. And I found myself crying out, “Now What?” from the hopeless pit of despair in which I sat. Many of you reading these words right now will be sitting in that same place as this February 14th rolls around. For you, it’s more like Singles Awareness Day. And my heart aches for you.

My desire is to bring you some Hope to replace your Hopelessness in this season.
First and foremost, please know you are not alone.

The hardest part of going through a divorce – or even a bad breakup – is how isolated you

14361331_1692877487699717_9082564780245850773_o

feel. Like you are the only person going through this. You are the only person who has thought the things you’re thinking or felt the feelings you’re feeling. But you’re not. As I travel around the country, the more people who open up and tell me their stories, the more I realize there is always someone who has been through, or is currently going through exactly what you are going through.

The most comforting words you can hear when going through a struggle are “me too”.

It wasn’t until I read stories of other people who had been through divorce that I could feel like, ok, I’m not alone and I’m not crazy.

We also have a Father who promises never to leave or forsake us. I understand, when you’re at your lowest, how easy it is to feel abandoned by Him. But I learned firsthand how untrue that was when I was in my rock bottom a few years ago. You can read the story in my book, “Now What? A Story of Broken Dreams and the God Who Restores Them”
Secondly, keep reminding yourself your story isn’t over yet. You may be having dinner at home by yourself this Valentine’s Day, but it won’t be like this every year for the rest of your life.

.facebook_1444943586305

I get it. It’s really, really hard when we go through a season of loneliness, loss, or grief to believe the heartache we feel will ever end. It’s difficult to see past our present circumstances and see how things could ever get better – especially when blissfully happy couples are being paraded in front of you on every TV commercial and magazine cover all month long. For a couple years, even hearing couples vow “till death do us part” at weddings only made me roll my eyes. But things will get better, I promise.

One day you will look back and see that this was just a season. Grief is always just a season. Let that season last as long as you want or need it too, but in your moments of clarity, remind yourself it is just a season. It will come to an end. Even though it feels like it won’t right now.

I recently heard a speaker say, “Whatever you’re going through will one day just be a sentence. A single sentence. Right now the situation may be consuming your life. But one day it will just be a sentence.”

For me it’s: “I was married previously.” Even though that was a four to five year fallout in my life…. Today it’s just a sentence.

What you’re going through right now does not have to define the rest of your life.

Maybe you ruined your marriage. You can pinpoint the exact reason(s) it ended, and blame them on yourself. I’ve been there.

happily remarried

In their book “Happily Remarried” David and Lisa Frisbee say this, “As we work with women who have experienced the end of a marriage, one of the most common themes that emerges is a profound sense of personal failure. Remarkably, even when a woman ascribes most of the blame to her ex-husband, she still manages to internalize a strong sense of shame and regret over her own shortcomings. This can be true even in cases where the wife has been abandoned by a straying husband or deserted by an irresponsible one.”

Friend, I’m here to tell you, even if you are failing or have failed miserably in your marriage, you can learn from your mistakes and have the type of relationship you desire in the future. The key is learning from your mistakes, not repeating them over and over. Running from relationship to relationship just so you can avoid being single is not a recipe for success. (Trust me, I tried that!)

It sounds super cliché, but take this season of singleness to learn about yourself, who you really are, and what you really want out of life and out of a life partner before you just say “yes” to the next piece of eye candy, or the next “guy/girl who makes you laugh or feel good”.
Third, there can be purpose born out of the pain you’re experiencing right now.

jon acuff sometimes

I have learned really crappy situations can turn out to be great blessings in hindsight. Our struggles make us more compassionate and empathetic (words I didn’t even previously comprehend I was so far removed from them), which allows us to help other people who will struggle similarly in the future.

I remember the first time someone told me I saved their marriage by sharing the things I learned going through my divorce and preparing for remarriage, it made all those years of crappiness a little more worth it.
Fourth, you must derail the train of negative thoughts running the tracks around your brain.

When I went through my divorce, the biggest thing I felt – even greater than heartbreak or loneliness – was like a failure. And this stream of toxic, negative thoughts overtook my thinking. “You brought this on yourself. You’re not worthy of being loved. You’re too high maintenance. You don’t bring out the best in men. Just take what you can get, be thankful you’re loved at all. You couldn’t even hold your marriage together, what makes you think you can lead or impact people?” Does any of that sound familiar?

None of these thoughts are true. They are cleverly designed lies to drive you into guilt, shame and isolation – the place you are most weak and vulnerable.

Which leads us to our fifth and final point: be intentional about surrounding yourself with a healthy support group, especially in seasons when you feel yourself pulling away. Isolation is a slippery, dangerous slope. When we are left alone with only our own thoughts, it’s easy to get trapped in unhealthy patterns of thinking and feeling.

When you least feel worthy of reaching out and asking for help that is exactly the time you need to. Call a friend, go out for coffee, or just have them come over and talk with you.

Note: There is a balance to this. There are certainly times you need to learn to sit and be comfortable in your own skin; this isn’t about using other people as a crutch until you can find yourself a new beau. It’s about realizing there is strength is asking for support and letting people – who have no other agenda than just being your friend – be a friend to you.

You may be dreading the 14th of February as the worst day of the year, and maybe you will spend the day locked inside your house crying your eyes out, but don’t be so blinded by your tears you lose sight of the fact that ultimately you have reason to be hopeful. Your relationship status is not all that you are or all you have to live for.

best days

Every year I pick a quote to put on the front of my planner, something I want to focus on for that year, kind of like a mantra. For 2013 the quote I picked was, “Some of the best days of your life haven’t happened yet.” When I taped it on my calendar that January, I had no idea that by the end of those 12 months I would be engaged and remarried!

There is so much hope in that statement. So here’s the final thought I want to leave you with today: Some of the best days of your life haven’t happened yet either. Even if this Valentine’s Day isn’t one of them.

Order “Now What?” by Rachel Dawn