I’ve always wanted to be different. If everyone was wearing blue, I’d want to wear black and white stripes. If everyone wanted a Honda hatchback, I wanted a truck.
If others were buying boat shoes, my preference was sandals. If the raging fad was tofu, I’d order a burger.
If everyone else is divorcing, I’m going to stay married.
I’ve always been one to refuse to be told that I
COULDN’T do something. If you told me that you knew I couldn’t
do a triathlon
learn to knit
hold my breath for ___ seconds/minutes
ride my bike to the next town
I’d make sure that I did it.
It was as much for me
to prove it to myself
as it was for you
to know that I could.
Don’t get me wrong.
I’m not one for a dare
I’m not up for foolish challenges.
It’s not that I want to do just any old thing ….
only those things that someone truly believed I couldn’t do
when I thought I might could.
I’m not one to fold to peer pressure.
It’s more about challenge and accomplishment.
This combination of personality traits
is what is making my being left so very difficult.
You’ve heard the statistics.
Marriages are falling apart by the thousands.
Children are being scarred by the millions.
And now the statistics are that there is
between the statistics
of the churched and the unchurhed
the Christian and the non-Christian
when it comes to divorce.
Do we, the Christians, have no power through Christ
to act and live differently from those who do not know Him?
My heart breaks for the individual for which this is true
and the world who watches us “live out” our faith.
And so, through the years, as I’ve thought about
the spirit of my living God,
and my friend, the Son,
I’ve been even more determined to
be like “them.”
I would withstand it all.
I would not crumble.
I would not fail.
I would not cease.
I would not quit.
I would love until the end.
I would stand firm.
I would keep my eyes on the reward.
I would not worry.
I would sing of song of joy
and count it all a privilege.
I would do my best.
And when I could not do it anymore,
I would continue.
I would hold tight to his hand
Because this is right.
It is meaningful.
It is important.
I have failed.
Well, that is what it looks like anyway.
In truth, I have not failed.
But, to those around me who do not know,
I look like I have failed.
Because things looked good.
Things looked right.
But they weren’t.
And they haven’t been.
Only the chosen few who have stepped into my world
have seen inside the circle
and know the truth.
I picked up a little booklet at the grocery store the other day.
It is called The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Surviving Divorce.
On the first page, in the Introduction, it states:
” And the new American family
– defined by single parents, stepparents, step-siblings, and alternating homes –
are more common than the nuclear family of the past. “
Do you know what was the most difficult part of that sentence for me to read?
It’s a single, simple word ….. six letters. Can you figure it out? Read it again.
It makes me shudder.
Common is the LAST thing that I want to be.
With the close of the chapter behind the door of divorce,
I began a transition from the “good” statistic, part of a nuclear family
with one mother and one father from a first marriage,
to the common statistic of “new” American family.
It cuts to my very core.
My choice to do my best to love like Christ,
to remain dedicated no matter what,
to be committed through it all…
it was not enough.
In some ways, I feel as though I have failed
my mom & dad,
and my friends.
As hard as I tried
to hold it together
I failed.I have not told my parents yet. I wanted to tell them in person.
I thought I would do it while I was home over the weekend. I planned to tell them while I was there.
But, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I don’t know why it is so hard. I couldn’t do it.
How do you admit to those that love you most
that you did your best,
but it wasn’t good enough?
How do I tell them?
In some ways, it does not even seem my place.
It was not my choice.