Divorce is terrible and vicious, but it’s not the end of the
world. This is something a friend told me when I left my marriage. My life
changed permanently on 7/30/12 when I found out that events happened, which lead to the demise of my
marriage. This unexpected and life changing experience forced me to grow
emotionally and built up my resilience to a level I didn’t know existed within
me. If someone had told me a year ago what I would go through, I would have
said I couldn’t make it through this, but as the events unfolded my support system
created a wall of strength for me and I toughened up. I like to joke that “the
tough Sarah” is here to stay. Sometimes she wanes a bit, but she’s not going
anywhere.
As the months have passed and I’ve become stronger on a
number of fronts, I’ve often searched for my identity. So many of the adjectives
I previously used to describe myself no longer describe me. In our world dictated by social
media, we often think in terms of short phrases to portray who we are as a
person. The 140 character limit on Twitter soars past our news feed and into
our inner being. Some of these short
phrases that once applied to me, such as “#wife,” are gone for the foreseeable
future, while others, such as “#runner,” I hope will return this summer. When I
can run fast again, I hope to do so simply out of the sheer joy I feel when I lace up
my spikes and run fast around a track. Terms such as “Christian,” never left me, they just got a little beat up, but underneath the mush, they stuck. With these
changes, I’ve added new terms such as #slowswimmer.
From a young age, I have seen my primary identity as a child
of God, saved by grace. But what happens when you know God on a cognitive
level, but feel distant from Him and feel numb half of the time anyway? The
Then, what happens when secondary parts of your identity—such
as your relationship status or running—are taken away? At one point I was conversing
with God and laughing to myself thinking, okay, you’ve taken everything away,
why not just take the rest too. The book of Job came to mind.
Pair this identity crisis with many other changes and you
start to wonder, “Who am I? What am I doing? What is my purpose?”
When these questions popped into my head, I nursed the numbness
with my quest for meaning.
As my search continued, I learned some things about life,
people, and the world. I am learning to live without always knowing what
tomorrow may bring. I am not changing
the world each day. I want to change the world by doing things like fighting
poverty and helping the mentally ill; however, I am not taking on such lofty
projects at the moment. But, I’ve made
great strides in my healing. I am ready to move on with many different aspects
of my life.
So much of the shame that penetrated my identity when I
filed for divorce is removed. I know someone wronged me and violated me, and I
feel a sense of injustice about this deep shame that was brought to my name.
But I am trying not to let it define me as I seek to regain back my sense of
dignity. My new identity is forming and I’m hoping shame won’t be part of it. My
Christian faith remains, although still very fragile at many points. My faith sits
on a beam I’m hoping never tips over. The other day I tweeted, “If my relationship with God was dependent on my
emotions, I'd be in trouble.”
I now am more sensitive to personal injustices and injustices
in the world. They just seem so wrong, and I want to stand up and fight them
all. Seeing people wronged and pushed down breaks my heart and crushes my soul.
I personalize many of these injustices as I think back on my own story. Much of
my innocence was lost during this process.
Instead of changing the world everyday, I am trying to
appreciate each day, and the small joys it brings. A few of the small joys that bring constant
smiles to my face include time with friends, noon swims (although rare, they
are so joyful and leave me smiling all day), walks, good wine, runs with
friends, friends making me coffee, and good books. Hopefully in between the
busyness and these small joys, I will still be able to impact the world
positively in small ways. The ways may be smaller, but touching a few
individual lives may just have to do for now as I search for my purpose. Maybe
this God I also feel so distant from so many days shows up in these small joys
he allows me to have each day?
After what I have been through in the last year: a messy divorce,
being wronged in more ways than I thought possible, my stuff in storage for
part of the year, staying with friends, and many other things that pushed my
uncertainty to the max, I am grateful for the chance to work at a startup, a
stable living situation that—although not permanent—provides a healthy
environment for now, a church that loves me and the messiness that comes with
me, and friends/ family that are so amazing.
Yep, life goes on. But it doesn’t just go on; it can be
happy and filled with small joys. I may always be a work in progress, but that’s
the comfort of a relationship with Jesus, high and lows come and go,
and the sanctification process marches on. Cheers, sweet friends, and thank
you.
