Frankly Speaking

Late August 2005

After the angel encounter, I believed I’d been given permission to go ahead with the divorce. It wasn’t that I wanted to leave at this point. It’s strange, but I preferred the comfort of a predictable future (even if it felt like a living hell) to the uncertainty of whatever was ahead. Yet I’d decided to trust God, and once I’d made up my mind to do this hard thing, I didn’t balk anymore. I just wanted to get it over with.

So I broke off all attempts at reconciliation with my husband. With just four months left until our 1-year deadline, I told Derwin I wanted to finish the remainder of our separation as if we were already divorced.

My circumstances were still as difficult as they’d been since January. Money was still tight. Food was still scarce. I still felt isolated. But it seemed like all those facts were losing their significance. My view of God was changing.

Until then, whenever I sensed God speaking to me He sounded impatient. This was no longer the case. At first I thought He had changed; I realized later that I had changed. I’d always heard Him through the filter of my own extremely harsh self-expectations. Because I was impatient with my own shortcomings, I’d heard impatience in all God’s dealings with me. Now that filter was being removed.

One day I was reading the Bible and came across an the Old Testament passage that said women couldn’t fully enter into contracts. If she entered a contract without her husband’s (or father’s if she was unmarried) consent, he could nullify the contract if he chose. I considered my present circumstances, and every relationship I’d ever had with a man (including my father, stepfather and past boyfriends). I vehemently concluded that not one of those men deserved such finite control over my choices, such overarching control of my life!

I felt sudden, bitter anger at God. It was as if He’d played a cruel joke on women, as if He’d given us eyes, then blindfolded us. I felt demeaned and demoralized and angry. I fell to my knees and cried out, “Why did you make us this way? Why did you give us brains and hearts and ideas and independence–then take away our ability to control our own lives? Why would you put that control into the hands of irresponsible, careless men?”

He responded, “It breaks My heart that what I created to be an act of loving protection for women has been skewed by brokenness and sin.” In His gentle voice I’d heard His broken heart. I’d also heard a depth of love (not general love for the world, but loved directed specifically at me) that I’d never noticed before. Suddenly I saw it all from His perspective. Suddenly my heart was broken for men and women too. Suddenly it was easy to worship God for creating a beautiful system where men are like Jesus to their wives, and their wives are like His bride. It was easy to see how perfect His plan had been; it was easy to grieve at how we’d screwed it all up.

Another day when I anxiously asked what I could expect in the dark tunnel, He gently said, “Step by step, my love.” This new, sweet Father’s voice was a gentle surprise. It made me want to hear more. Over the next two months I found myself growing closer to Him than ever before.

October 2005

It was a typical day, and I was running errands. As I drove and prayed, I stopped short when I caught myself asking God to reconcile my marriage. This was the third time I’d done it over the past few weeks; usually I’d just “redirect.” This time I chuckled. “Why do I keep doing that?” I asked Him.

Suddenly God began conversing with me very clearly. It was as if He was riding in the passenger seat of my car. This is essentially how the conversation went:

“You don’t have to get divorced. You could choose to stay.”

I immediately wondered about the dark tunnel. I’d been offered a choice then too, and at that time I could see what would happen if I stayed. It wasn’t good. But this time the choices felt different. There was no darkness; simply put, in one choice I was divorced, and in the other I was not.

“I have a plan for you either way. But the choice is yours–and if you make it, you need to be certain, no matter what your friends say.”

I knew He was calling me out over my best friend. Understandably she was rooting for me to divorce my husband. But she’d already accused me of being weak when I’d put my rings back on. She said I’d been afraid to leave Derwin and that I was using obedience to God as an excuse to stay. Her condemnation had been difficult and frustrating. I could imagine what she’d think of me if I changed my mind yet again and reconciled with my husband.

“You must decide what’s more important,” He continued. “Your best friend or your husband. And know that if you choose your husband, it will jeopardize your relationship with your best friend.”

I sat thinking for a moment. Really, her opinion didn’t seem so important as it used to. It was easy to choose my husband over my best friend. My indecision had a different cause.

“I can’t stay with Derwin if he’s not saved.”

I was just being honest! I knew the Holy Spirit was the only one who could change him; otherwise I’d just be stuck in more of the same, and I wanted none of that.

“Will he get saved?”

God’s response is a little hard to describe. He answered me by making me aware of His own excitement. In other words, I felt God’s excited anticipation that Yes! Derwin was going to be saved! (And it thrills me that God was excited about it!)

Since I’d broken things off with Derwin, the extent of our contact had been surface conversation while he picked up or dropped off the kids. I had no idea whether he was interested in reconciling, or if he even thought of me anymore. I decided that if this was God, then I would talk to Derwin and he’d agree to reconcile. If he didn’t, so be it.

I called Derwin that night. I simply asked him if he would like to reconcile. And he simply said yes.

So be it.