It started innocently enough. My daughter asked my opinion about something she was considering. I gave it, encouraging her to think through the situation.
Immediately, she rolled her eyes and laughed. “That’s funny. Dad was right. That’s exactly what he thought you would say.”
I was taken aback. Then I exploded, yelling, “You have no idea what I’ve been through and what I’ve held back. I’ve worked hard not to say anything negative about your dad. How dare he discuss me with you? I’d like to tell you a thing or two about him!”
I finally stopped, paused for a breath, and then recoiled at my tirade. How in the world did I get here? We’d been separated for over a year. I thought I was past this.
“Faith is allowing God to straighten the record when false things have been said about me.” Pamela Reeve’s words, which I had tacked to my bulletin board, came ringing back. I had read those words over and over again. I read them when my husband moved out. When I wanted to defend myself. When I wanted to clear my name. When I wanted everyone to know what had really happened.
I had read them to remind myself of the truth. And the truth was I didn’t need to defend myself, clear my name, or set the record straight. I needed to trust God to do that.
The Ever-Present Struggle
But when going through a separation and subsequent divorce, it’s hard to take that perspective—at least it was for me. Because being separated felt so shameful, I wanted everyone to hear my side of the story—my friends, my family, and especially my children.
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