Divorce is a death – a death you live to tell about. In many ways I feel that physical death is kinder than the death of a marriage. Most of the time, when a person physically dies, it wasn’t intentional. It is the result of an accident, the breakdown of a body, the Murphy’s Law of Life – when the worst thing that can happen, does. Then the living get to grieve, and miss, and remember, and learn to keep on living.
Divorce is an intentional death. For me, divorce was the death of the life I knew. In one legal action, all of the things I’d known, believed, and worked for my entire adulthood were swept away. My future plans were rubbish. The family I had labored for, sacrificed for, and shed innumerable tears for was obliterated. And not from some mishap of circumstance, but through the intentional acts of the one person I trusted and believed in – the man who had stood before an alter with me in front of all our friends and family and vowed to love of protect me all the days of my life.
Divorce is the story about how God broke my heart – and how I survived it with my faith irrevocably altered, but richer and more mature. I lost it when Jesus let me die like Lazarus. When I called to Him in my sickness, He tarried and let me enter the tomb of betrayal, and shame, and loneliness, and dishonor alone.
But Jesus wasn’t content to leave me there. He called me out of the tomb to live an original and abundant life. This blog was meant to document my midlife revolution.
When I began this blog originally in 2013, my goal was to encourage anyone who had gone through the crisis of divorce that recovery and resurrection was possible, even wonderful. To assure them that they were not alone in their feelings of being lost and broken and alone. To give them hope and grace and compassion.
The shock and sadness and loss of the marriage were the easier emotions to conquer than the anger and bitterness that seemed to loiter in the fault lines of my heart. I felt that my life’s dreams and ambitions had died along with my marriage, and I chiefly blamed my ex-husband and my fundamentalist Christian church. Part of my recovery is realizing that my finances were not the only bankruptcy I’d have to overcome.
So I wanted to encourage women than even if their life has been altered irrevocably and inexcusably, they would, like Gloria Gaynor, indeed survive. Yet, I also wanted a forum to expose the lies that I had believed and built my life around. I wanted to warn women from the top of skyscrapers against the tactics of abusers, and manipulators, and users. I wanted people to hear my voice calling in the wilderness that bigotry, racism, sexism, materialism, and judgmental self-certainty are alive and well in the fundamentalist, evangelical Christian church I came from, and that they hurt me, and they are continuing to hurt others every single day.
And that even though all of these things are true, one can still believe and trust in a gracious and Almighty and Sovereign God who calls you to live your own original and abundant life. And even when your life doesn’t turn out the way you anticipated, there is a distinct possibility it could be even better.
So, this blog is called ReLoriMichelle because I am living in my own afterlife. I’m not the Lori Michelle I was before; I’m reborn… renewed… recharged… renovated…resurrected.
I’m living My Lazarus Life