I suppose there is no divorce without pain. The prices of such agonizing choices are paid in a thousand different ways, sometimes spanning generations. In some cases, the healing balms of grace and forgiveness are welcomed. In others, resolutions of pain and vengeance hold sway. In some, there seems to be a mixed flowing, an uneven path of healing and restoration often flared by interruptions of anger and renewed hurts. It doesn’t take much experience of divorce, from any perspective, to see why God isn’t in favor of the practice.

I was raised in a time and place when divorce was unthinkable, a signature failure that separated a person from the mainstream of southern agrarian culture. Better to be an unwed mother than a divorced one. Not that either existence was pleasant, by the way. But it appeared to be easier to forgive and understand a momentary indiscretion than such a willful choice as divorce. When I graduated from high school in 1971, I had never even known a kid whose parents were divorced.

I continued the preaching of my father in my own ministry, condemning the practice and those who chose that option, never imagining that I would one day be one of them. In 1988, I found myself on the other side of that divide. Church members who had formerly welcomed me into their homes in western Kentucky refused to shake my hand when I visited their congregations. Some would not speak to me while a few were eager to speak to me, to tell me I was going to hell. Still others, though disappointed by my actions, continued to love me.

Dad was among those, though obviously pained by my decision. After I remarried, I visited him and Mom. After supper, while we sat around the table talking, Dad said to me, “Now, you’re my son and I love you and I always will. But you know how I feel about divorce.” He paused for a moment, looked down at the floor and then back at me, shook his head slowly and said softly, “I wouldn’t want to be standing in your shoes at Judgment, I’ll tell you that.”

I have long acknowledged my sins, including those that led to and including the divorce. Along with my former wife, my children, Randa and a host of others, I have long suffered the after-effects of it. In spite of all of those things, my children and I have rebuilt and repaired our relationships and enjoy one another. As to the second marriage, Randa and I just celebrated our twentieth anniversary.

Even from the midst of our messes, God heals and blesses. Though he may not spare us from the consequences of our choices, he still supplies grace and mercy. As to judgment, Someone Else has already stood in my shoes.

H. Arnett

9/16/09