Throw me a Lifeline. I’m Drowning!
I’m drowning and crying out for help. God Isn’t Listening.
Marriages fall apart in a variety of ways. For some it’s a slow burn of anger and resentment that finally comes to a head. For others it’s a slow process of growing apart, and for other couples it’s an act of betrayal that blows up like a hand grenade. No matter what the scenario, the dissolution of a marriage is painful, especially for Christians who consider a marriage to be a sacred bond between two people. A broken marriage forces a paradigm shift where your current reality and the past are redefined under a shadow of betrayal and disappointment. The future is chaotic and unknown. In my case, I had every intention of growing old with my husband, celebrating our milestones together, watching our children grow up and becoming proud grandparents. The realization that this was not what life had in store for me was terrifying. I felt lost at sea and desperate for a lifeline.
When my ex-husband confessed his infidelity, the reality hit me like lightning striking a sparrow. We tried to repair our marriage through counseling. I spent months like an emotional zombie, going through the motions of life while feeling dead on the inside. I was desperate to save my marriage, but as counseling progressed, it became clear that our commitment to the marriage was not equal. I slowly came to the realization that I could not single-handedly save a marriage. Looking back, I am not sure my desire to avoid divorce was really based on love for my husband, but the desire to save face from the public disgrace of divorce. I was completely humiliated and ashamed to admit that my husband could cheat on me and leave me. For some reason confessing the truth felt like an admission that I was not worthy, beautiful, or valuable enough to keep a man’s attention or love. My pride was at stake and pride is a powerful force. God was distant to me at this time. My sights were narrowly focused on saving our marriage and despite Olympian efforts on my end, I kept slamming into walls. We divorced and my cry to God was, Why didn’t You help me save my marriage?
God, have You forgotten me? Do You even care that I am suffering? In Jesus’ parable of the lost sheep in Luke 15, we are reminded of the kind of savior we have in Jesus. “Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t the shepherd leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.” Christians believe in a God that actively seeks out the lost sheep, a deeply caring and loving God that does not want to leave us lost at sea. What we often don’t realize when we’re flailing in the ocean is that God is constantly sending us lifelines, but when we are in a state of panic, we may not be able to see them. The water and danger are real and there are currents and threats to our livelihood at every turn. It is easy to become overwhelmed and hopeless, but there is also God’s loving hand reaching out and trying to pull us from a sea of chaos and torment. He is the good shepherd always seeking the lost and wounded sheep.
In the midst of my own pain and helplessness, two roads appeared before me. One was the road of victimhood where I embraced my anger and bitterness. I felt completely justified to travel that road. But who would I become at the end of that journey? I saw my future self clearly: bitter, angry, and unlovable. I would shape myself in the same way my ex-husband had made me feel. I would become the undesirable woman he betrayed.
And the other road? This was a road where I trusted God and learned to let go of my hurt and bitterness. How was I supposed to do this? The answer came to me one day after class when I had been hoping to have a good silent cry in my lonely dark classroom after school. A student came to me in pain after a boyfriend had rejected her. I counseled her and tried to give her the acceptance I longed for myself. The answer came to me when I poured love on my children who were also suffering. The powerful love I had for my children helped to wake me from my self absorption. The answer came when a friend invited me to go for a walk and I said yes. That walk turned into a Bible study and opened the door to a group of women. In that group were women who had traveled a similar road of betrayal and they offered me acceptance, love, and hope. I was no longer alone and I began to laugh and find joy. In all these examples, I had to take a small, but very real leap of faith. Reaching out to others in love when you’re in pain is a powerful act of faith. When we’re hurting, we don’t always accept invitations and we slam the door on others when we really need to be opening that door as wide as humanly possible. I only had the strength to open the door a little, but God blessed my efforts. In my time of healing, I’ve made some of the best friends of my lifetime. I’ve gained wisdom and I’ve had opportunities to minister to others. Sisters, in your pain, take the effort to open your eyes to the lifelines all around you. Open the door to every opportunity that takes you out of yourself and into a world where you have the power to do good for someone else. Grab hold and let God pull you out of the sea of torments.
