The calendar will soon mark one year since my divorce. One year of mourning. One year of adjusting to new patterns which 34 years ago I never expected.
It has been an intense year, for which I promptly apologized up front to my offspring and their spouses for my increased “religion.” I should probably do so again. I can only think what has been going through their heads: “Jeez, Mom, are you really talking about God again?”
But they have been gracious. For that I am so very deeply indebted to them and their understanding of their mother’s deeper relationship with the Lord. I had already been a committed Christian before that dark day, so, no, I did not “find religion” as a by-product of divorce. However, the nature of my approach to God changed.
Like many others who have unexpectedly found themselves in any sort of life difficulty, brokenness has deepened my identity in Him and marked me more surely as His own. I treasure that beyond any value.
What follows in CrossRoads are tidbits of insights and lessons learned. No, I am not a pastor; neither do I have any theological authority. But I give what I have. Jesus, may my experience encourage and guide readers to a more fulfilling relationship with You. Amen.
History Is My Travel Bag 