Divorce is this word a lot of us wish
did not exist, and yet many of us have found
it not only persists, but is like gods (drunk and sober)
in a forest felling trees (young and old)
too close to home, to children, to the stuff
of our dreams, when there’s nowhere
we’d rather be
than somewhere this word
was never uttered.
This poem appears in my new book Roses in Winter. It’s meant to speak to pain points that the rest of our lives often try and smooth over. But really, for most people who are married, this is where we live. In the good and loving centre of our relationship, OR on the fringes of something that has unraveled, fallen apart, cost us everything.
That marriage takes work is a truism. That its fail-point, divorce, is a multi-billion dollar industry is not worth mentioning. But in here somewhere is the incredible, underlying truth that marriage is meant to shelter us. To make our dreams come true. To bless the world and people around us. To comfort us and bring us hope.
In other words, it’s a powerful, unchanged sacramental vow between a man and woman to stick it out. To trust that tomorrow is a new day. That God’s mercies are available to us; that change is real. Here’s to that!
Of course, any word on this tender topic lends itself to a series of books and sermons and greeting cards. But! The point is, that unless safety is an issue, then be encouraged: no one gets married to get divorced. The question becomes: why did you get married? And what might it take to heal and grow from where you are now: married or (un)married?