By Becky O’Brien

For a long time, I didn’t think I’d make it. 

I was scared, not knowing how I could manage without a husband and dad in the home for our 10 kids. I was angry. This was not the way it was supposed to be. I prayed that God would help our marriage but didn’t really believe it. So, then I felt guilty. 

It is hard to really go back to remember the pain and the rejection I felt. Today I am sitting far down the road—25 years after the separation. I am at the midpoint. I was married just short of 25 years.

We were separated for a long time, 6 years. When we were first separated, I had been a Christian for 11 years. But I loved the Lord and desired to follow Him with all my heart. Every time I read the Word, I would write down verses that spoke to me, memorizing or hiding His word in my heart as I could.

God’s Word

I knew God is sufficient and His power is made perfect in weakness (2 Cor. 12:9). Really getting a hold of that truth was so helpful. I would also often read and meditate on Zephaniah 3:17:

The Lord your God is in your midst,
    a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness;
    he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing.

God’s word was the light in my darkness. God’s word was the steady rhythm of truth, amongst a cacophony of lies. 

The Church

Because of the situation, we (my children and I) went to a new church. It was mandatory. My husband had been the pastor of the church we had been attending. Not everyone liked the new church at first, but we grew to love it and became a vital part of it. I am so thankful that we were loved and well cared for. We were included, involved, and blessed in many ways. 

I am thankful that I have the gift of hospitality and used it by inviting church brothers and sisters to my house, which provided a way to bond and share burdens (because we all have them). It was a way that I felt included in relationships with men and women, both in healthy ways. I missed relating with and communicating with a man. I also enjoyed a mixed Sunday School class where I could have fellowship with families which also provided an example to my children.

In our new church, the pastor and saints loved on us, prayed for us, engaged us, and helped us with physical needs (in very big ways!). I remember standing in the parking lot after church talking and being ministered to; our children played, as we prayed. 

Joy

During the long, lonely nights, I would pray—drawing close to my friend who is closer than a brother (Prov. 18:24). I still pray a lot at night. 

In the hardest of times, I felt the greatest joy. “The joy of the Lord is my strength” (Neh. 8:10). 

I hated the hurt but loved the joy. I knew God was with me. You could not ask for more—but then the “nuts and bolts” of life! It was a roller coaster at times.

Later, when I was farther down the road, and things were going well, and I was more secure, I would long for the joy I experienced when things were so difficult. I experienced the reality of Psalm 46:1, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” I experienced the joy of knowing that the God of the universe was carrying me and caring for me.

Contentment

I was always looking for my husband to return. I remember one time, early on, I thought I heard him come in—someone was talking in the kitchen. I went in expectantly and was crushed when it was the neighbor. 

I would always be looking for his car to turn into the driveway. That went on for years. Finally, that is only a memory. 

I also remember him picking up the kids for a visit or calling them, and I was jealous sometimes, even angry, because I wanted him to want to see me.

Remembering my yearning for love and care and desire to have a mate… It took a long time to be “content in all things.” It took longer than I now remember. That leads me to share another verse:

Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me (Phil. 4:11-13). 

How I clung to this verse. It became my focal verse to remind myself of all the time! I worked hard to cast all my cares on the Lord, remembering that He cares for me (1 Pet. 5:7). And I looked to Jesus (Heb. 12:2); oh, how I looked to Jesus. 

Jesus the Great Healer

God used my hurting, emptiness, and desperation to draw me into an intimate love relationship with Him. I was not an easy case. For a while, I looked for God in all the wrong places (including another man, food, and other people) to fill what I was really seeking—that intimate relationship with the God of the universe. The God that was real to Moses, David, and Noah. The road was rough, but it was how I grew in intimacy with my Father, my Abba Daddy. 

I sorrow over hurting people and desire their salvation. No wonder people turn to the bottle and drugs. I understand—to numb the pain. I am so thankful I had and have Jesus! 

We have a Great Healer. I remember having a decorative wood heart that was in two pieces with some kind of metal piece holding the two pieces together. It was very symbolic to me of my broken heart and of the Great Physician’s healing work. He does great heart surgery, by the way. But the healing period is very slow and there’s still some pain along the way.

Incidentally, after hearing of a sweet friend (not close, but dear) who had a broken heart, I passed that on to her. I rarely see her, but recently, after many years, she told me she still has it and thinks of me still. A broken heart will do that. Sometimes the Great Physician uses us as His nurses in His healing work. 

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God (2 Cor. 1:3-4).

So, how did I survive my divorce? I clung to Jesus and His Word. Or rather, they clung to me. They held me although my husband didn’t.