“Your mom kicked me out of the house, Jenny.”

I remember it like it was yesterday. My dad came to the house where I was babysitting. He stood at the front entrance sobbing. I honestly didn’t know what to do. I just stood there frozen.  This was not a surprise. My parents fought and were abusive toward each other for as long as I could remember. My brother and I listened to their fights from our bedrooms every night. I remember one fight that was particularly nasty. I don’t recall all the details, but I do remember getting in-between them and pushing them apart. It was hell. I hated it. But, it was the only life I knew, so when they decided to divorce…I was devastated.

The lawyers got involved. My brother and I were asked who we wanted to live with. Think about that question for a moment. “Who do you want to live with?” The proposal was preposterous. I was probably 15 and my brother 12. I had been responsible for my brother his entire life. Or so I thought. If you ask him, he may tell you a different interpretation. But, when someone who I worshipped and loved asked me to make a choice like that…I didn’t know what the right answer could possibly be. I was a teenager who was thrust into a parent role I didn’t want or ask for. I didn’t know there was a lot of money and child support on the line. I didn’t know there was property involved. Inheritances that were part of our longstanding family story were suddenly missing. Insurance became a big deal. Visitation rights blew up. Residences were sold. My GOD! It was a stinking hot mess.

And then, we had to learn to live in that stinking hot mess. Holiday schedules, vacation schedules, after school care schedules and every decision had to be discussed with a mediator. My dad never paid one dime of child support. He learned how to provide the IRS with the proper documentation to prove to them how much he didn’t make. Savvy. Smart. Manipulative. Shady. They both were.

And…we survived.

There is life after divorce. That stinking hot mess of my early childhood and adolescent development led to a wild time of freedom-seeking and disrespecting authority in my own life. Living on my own, I was stupid and made a lot of stupid mistakes.

And….I survived.

I know now that Jesus was with me the whole time. Back then, it was sketchy. I believe He hates divorce. It wasn’t supposed to be like this—divorce wasn’t the vision from the beginning. Jesus replied to some Pharisees when they asked him whether or not it was lawful to divorce a wife for any reason. Jesus replied, “Moses permitted you to divorce your wives because your hearts were hard. But it was not this way from the beginning.” (Matthew 19:8) I could argue that God hated divorce as an answer—but when two people or entities are killing each other—they need a way to extricate themselves or they both die and their lineage right along with it. So, God invented a legal document. But, He never erased the heart break, disappointment and pain left behind. Healing requires a lifetime commitment. Maybe even eternal.

And…we survived.

I share my life story with you because I’ve been doing some soul searching. I am also dealing my own hurts as we try to navigate the waters of the next few months to General Conference 2020. I find myself sick to my stomach and at the gym a lot. I love my church—the Big C—UMC. I’ve been part of this since 1992. I have stories. I was part of the mythology and development of some of the greatest preachers' and pastors’ stories. How could something I believed in with my whole heart and soul ask me to make a decision—which one do you want to live with? Here we go again. I wish I could tell you that I am a wounded healer. (Henri Nouwen wrote a classic text by that name.) I’m mostly wounded. Healer…meh.

We will survive.

There is life after divorce. There is life after death. More than keepers of a story we are defenders of the resurrection faith. I know I put Church on a pedestal that it didn’t belong. Only Jesus belongs there. But, I believe in the Church and will defend her to the day I die. I took a vow--my word is my honor. I believe she can be radiant and beautiful. I love the Church. I made a commitment when I took my vow. No matter what—when I got married I would never make the mistakes my parents made and I would never get a divorce. Well, you and I can see that my personal story has deeply effected my vocational story. So, I am careful, thoughtful and prayerful as we take the next steps together.

I am a resurrection kind of gal…but if you see me standing over in the area where Mary Magdalene is weeping…it’s okay. Just let me be. Sunday is coming and we will all thrive.

“Now…Mary stood outside the tomb crying…” (John 20:11)

Pastor Jen