The School of Separation part 2

Something they don’t tell you about separation or divorce is that quite literally it feels like half of yourself is cut off and missing. I realize there are situations that require a couple to separate and not be able to reconcile.  But the reality for me was that after 17 years of marriage I felt like only half of myself without him. 

Sexually I was lost. For many that may not be a struggle but for me he was the only sexual partner I had been with. Sex was him. I did not allow myself to use porn and frankly didn’t want to. It was hollow and empty. Sex was super glue that bonded us together.  To pull apart felt like an ugly tearing. So many of my memories,  family traditions, ideas and beliefs were connected with him. I had not believed we had much in common or that we were really friends. But suddenly, becoming enemies because he was not believing in or pursuing reconciliation made me feel so disconnected.  No one knew me as well as he did. No one shared life with me like he had. I felt so alone. 

Now any conversation with him had to be guarded. There was anger in me over forgiving him for the affair only to wind up here; with him walking away. To tell you the truth this hurt more in some ways than the initial affair four years prior. Why? Because at least then, I was the one who had the choice to leave or stay. Why? Because he wanted me back then. Now he was neutral, not doing anything in either direction.  But he leaned more towards believing it would be better if we gave up. That we just couldn’t work together.  

Again it was crazy how in my “Fight or Flight” post I was moving in the direction of working on our friendship. I knew that was missing.  But being without this companion, who knew me so well, I realized what a friend he had been and how much I had taken him for granted. How I didn’t even know what I had until it was gone. 

Everywhere in our home there were reminders of him or “us”. One of the first things I had to do was to put away pictures of us. It was too painful to feel so utterly rejected and start imagining my life on my own with reminders of him everywhere. I also needed every reminder around me that I was loved by God and who I was in Him. 

I made a banner and hung it above my headboard that said “God’s banner over me is love”. I had the words I am a child of God suspended from a canopy over my bed. I took all the scripture verses God had given me. The scriptures that were my very bread at this time, and made a vision board with them. 

My husband noticed how our whole room had changed and all pictures of him were missing. He commented on it, insinuating that I was enjoying the single life. Here is where the hard work of planting was beginning. Our whole marriage had a pattern of communication that lay on the surface. We often “jabbed” at each other rather than truly communicating what we were feeling or needed. So in this situation he was insecure and feeling that I was quick to just boot him out of my life. I wanted to jab back at him, that would have been my normal response. But I paused, realizing the pattern and instead spoke plainly. I did not “enjoy” single life. This is not what I wanted but if he was unwilling to commit to me then I couldn’t handle reminders of what we had before. 

Round and round these types of conversations occurred. There would be a jab, and I would have to stop and consider my words and communicate with honesty not with a prejudiced response I was so used to giving. Sometimes this was very hard to do. Or it was difficult even though my words may have been better in choice, my tone was not. But little by little, this planting life was making a difference. I was refusing to play “the game” we always had played. I was going to be vulnerable, honest, and speak plainly, instead of from hidden wants, feelings and judgements.    

    In the weeks we were sleeping separated but in the same home I was in such agony. Trying to convince him I was different and committed to change. I carried a index card set of scriptures in my pocket at work and literally breathed them, meditated on them, lived like they were my food. At night I played worship songs until I could relax enough to sleep. I was utterly desperate for God’s presence. When my spouse moved out, even though there was a grieving loneliness and loss, I was filled with unexplainable peace. Why? Because God showed up. The heaviness that had been crushing me for weeks was suddenly relieved. God gave me grace to trust Him no matter the outcome and allowed me to rest. 

Something interesting happened as God became my anchor. I had always allowed my feelings to move me and govern how I felt about my marriage. Insecurities, fears, anger, ungratefulness, disappointments were all bound up in my spouse. So the emotional swings would come with every disappointment and disagreement. This was a lesson I had tried to overcome before after the affair. Recognising that my spouse could not be my “god” that my happiness, identity, and security could not come from him. However though I had identified that problem in our marriage 4 years ago I had not lived it and applied it. Now, the “god” I had set my security and hopes on was crumbling once again. But during the separation the reality of having that idol totally removed forced me to anchor myself to God firmly. 

My husband was struggling spiritually during this time and was strongly driven by anger, bitterness, and debilitating depression. Though the journey wasn’t easy for me either I saw the immense difference between us in how we were emotionally and spiritually holding up through this. He was emotionally falling apart while I felt steady. I was on course. I didn’t know where the destination would end but I had a clear direction. The word God had given me to plant good was my saving grace. 

The Bible gives wisdom and I can honestly say that during this time I was thinking clearer, feeling more peace, and in control of my emotions far more than I’d ever been. This was a result from living God’s word out and standing on it. 

If you are in a season of separation anchor yourself to God’s word. There were lots of questions I had during that time about what to do. But to choose to keep planting life was my focus and I could choose to do that even though the other decisions weren’t figured out yet.