I remember when I read on Instagram that Rachel Hollis was getting divorced, I cried. It was just another drop in the 2020 bucket - a bucket that seems to be overflowing with pain, heartache and grief. I cried not because I know her, or because I know her husband, or because I was led by them maritally, but purely because of the shock.
And days later, Jen Hatmaker posted a similar post. Another divorce in the Christian ecosphere that seemed unreal. How could this be happening?
Never in a million years would I find myself sharing similar news. That in a matter of hours I would be drowning in my own tears and that I would be living in my house without my husband. That I would be embarking on a divorce. Navigating the roughest waters yet. A drop in the bucket to say the least.
It has been 5 weeks of utter pain, confusion and loss. Of daily grieving - all 5 stages sometimes multiple times a day. As a dear friend put it, I didn't just get broken, I got shattered into dust. To which she followed up - this is where God does His work. He's the potter. He will add some water, rehydrate and make something new.
I believe it.
I am not new to trauma. This isn't my first traumatic rodeo.
In 2011, I went into my 10-week appointment for my first pregnancy only to hear the technician tell me there wasn't a heartbeat. I would then go on to have 3 more miscarriages, 4 in total. And 3 years later, God would go on to do the miracle, making beauty of ashes, bringing us Zoey, who celebrates her 6th birthday on November 8.
In 2016, I would witness my husband having a traumatic brain injury and as he lie on the ground, I was sure he was dead. Months later, God would continue to heal him from the inside out. God did all sorts of miracles the last 4 years since that accident.
I have discovered firsthand that a traumatic life event often leads to some of God's greatest blessings if we are willing to do the work and this one thing...keep reading...
But, if I am being honest, some of my most intimate, in depth prayers didn't get answered in the last four years. The full restoration of our marriage. Complete healing. Those prayers were still recently prayed with faith and hope, believing that the miracle was on its way. But September 11, that changed.
And here I am today, in a season of suffering and in a season of being more surrounded than I ever have been. If I am anything, it is open and authentic. Not perfect. Perhaps too open for some. But, I am a fierce believer in the power of prayer. And the power of community. And you can't have either of those things in isolation. A vessel to healing comes as a result of prayer and community which takes sharing, it takes vulnerability and it takes authenticity.