Chapter Six
The divorce papers sat on my bed, awaiting my signature. As I re-read them, I offered up a prayer that Jack wouldn’t contest anything. A twinkling caught my attention, and I glanced over to my hand and saw my wedding ring. I hadn’t had the heart to take it off, regardless of the divorce process I had begun. With a sad sigh, I lifted the pen and signed my name, sending up a prayer that the process would be quick. With the papers folded and placed into the envelope, I glanced at my left hand once again. With a heavy heart, I twisted the ring circling my fourth finger. After a moment the ring slid off my finger. As I held it, the engagement portion with the circular diamond separated from the wedding band. This is it. The rings clinked together as I set them on the bed. What did I do with the set now? I didn’t want to save them, but to sell them? Goodness knows I’d soon need the money. A moment later I picked up the pieces and placed them in my jewelry box and closed the lid, the sound a muted thud.
My finger felt naked without my ring. When I went grocery shopping that afternoon, its absence seemed like a blinking sign that said ‘divorced’. The very idea made my skin crawl. Though I hadn’t any other choice, I still felt guilty. The constant wonder of if I did anything and everything to save my marriage hounded me.
Samantha had given me a wonderful book, which I promised myself I’d open as soon as I got home. I needed some hope in the midst of all the confusion. I needed something, I just didn’t know what. And I hated waiting; yet waiting was all that was left for me to do.
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Jack had accepted my terms, thankful to be free of the marriage, and had only changed one part. And of course, it had to do with money. Rather than the two years of
spousal maintenance I asked for, he wanted me to only have one year. The worry that he’d challenge my custody of the children, not because he wanted them but because I had dared defy him, made me sign quickly. Anything to protect them from the neglect and verbal abuse that had increased in its intensity in the few months before he finally had left. He still hadn’t seen them or contacted me except through my attorney. The betrayal had stung, and at first, I’d wake up crying in my sleep. Yet as time passed, the days became easier, and I began to rediscover something important, myself.
Each day I began with a determined hope that came from a gut-wrenching prayer session moments before getting out of bed. The day would pass with me singing praises and choosing to be joyful rather than wonder ‘what if.’ Slowly, I found pieces of myself that were lost in the constant turmoil and attempt at attaining the unattainable. The sense of humor and wit I had lost came back, and I regained my smile. Through it, I not only forgave myself, but I came to forgive Jack. It was a daily struggle, and often I’d find myself on my knees again fighting to hold onto my bitterness over his intentional hurt to the kids and I. But each time God’s peace would fill me, reminding me to whom I belonged. Though I struggled, I released him and began to pray for him. Somehow, this was what gave me the greatest healing.
Friends would call trying to set me up on blind dates, but I refused. Not only was I not ready, but I had come to a decision in that area of my life as well. Clearly, I was not the best judge of men. The thought brought a wry grin to my face. And while driving one day, I heard a woman speaking on the radio, telling her love story. It was remarkable because it went against everything I had been taught. She didn’t search for a man, she didn’t even date, rather she waited for God to pick out the man for her. Immediately, I wondered how that happened. I mean, did she stay home all day and then a repairman came to her doorstep and they fell in love? What did that look like? But as I listened, I discovered that she lived her life, went out with friends, was involved in her community, church, and traveled. She met her husband on the mission field in Africa, and two weeks later they married. She was cautious to explain that it was only her story and that God writes different love stories for each person, but the