When my kids ask to help me cook, I always need to assess my level of tolerance for fun and mess in the moment. Because, in the most literal sense, they don’t actually help in terms of reducing work. In fact, they increase the amount of work. If I need 2 cups of flour in a bowl, I can be sure that there will be 2 cups of powdery goodness on the floor, the countertops, their hair, their faces, all of our clothes, and then another 2 in the bowl. If I need eggs mixed, there will be clumps of eggs in the bowl and renegade yolky globs on the wall. 

And when I have the strength, it’s so much fun. It’s endearing and an awesome memory. But let’s be clear, it wasn’t helpful. 

Sometimes, I feel like this as I receive counsel from people in the church. I am SO SO SO grateful for their love, care, and prayers. They seek me out to spend time and to see how I’m doing. It’s so wonderful and thoughtful. 

But it can also get really hurtful. 

I had a conversation with an elder’s wife yesterday over lunch. She took me out to a nice lunch to see how I was doing. I wanted to go because I liked her and knew that she was in her second marriage. She was a godly woman and I wanted to hear her story, and was open to sharing more of mine. I knew she already knew most of what was going on because the church elders have been pretty involved in me and my husband’s separation. 

We sat down, and I began updating her on how I was doing. I had just seen a doctor for some medical issues that I was finally getting around to addressing. I then asked her about her, and if she’d be open to sharing about her marriage history. She started openly sharing and it was an incredible story of sadness, perseverance, and God at work. I loved hearing her share, until one point in her story when I started feeling a pit in my stomach. She was talking about a time in her second marriage when she wanted to leave her husband because of how difficult it had been together. The pit inside of me was saying, “I think she’s going to tell me to stay in my marriage…” I brushed it off, and kept listening. 

And that’s when she said to me, “you know P, I almost left my marriage and I am so so so glad I didn’t. Please don’t be rash in your decision about marriage. In one of Tim Keller’s books on marriage, he says that in a study of people who are very unhappy in marriage saw that the people who divorced/separated were more miserable 5 years later, and the people who stayed married were much happier. And look, your body is already falling apart.” She said all of this with this look of sorrow, compassion, and hope that I’d see the truth in the numbers and persevere in my marriage. 

Sigh.

I was floored. And by floored, I mean punched in the gut and lying on the ground with the wind knocked out of me. 

She really doesn’t get it. 

And so I looked at her and I said, I understand that if I was going through relational difficulties in marriage, what you said would be very wise. But when it comes to abusive marriages, to ask someone to stay in an abusive marriage is like asking them to die. Because godly patience and kindness does not stop an abuser from hurting you. God does not value the institute of marriage over the safety of an individual. Moreover, my wanting to separate or divorce is not me breaking the covenant of marriage. My husband broke it by abusing me. I am doing what is necessary to protect myself and my children from a life of abuse and stopping the generational cycle of it. 

It was her turn to look stunned. And she asked belatedly, “what happened?”

I answered her question with details of what the abuse was like. And she was horrified. Tears filled her eyes as she apologized to me for her misstep. She hadn’t intended to give me this advice when she first asked me to lunch. 

“What happened?” – This is a question that the church does not often ask when it comes to marriage. Because the overall Christian sentiment is that marriage is king, and nothing should break it. Anyone or anything that breaks marriage is sinful and wrong. No ifs, ands, or buts. The only time divorce is ok is if there’s an affair. But you’re seen as SUPER holy and Christlike if you persevere through it. 

I’m not mad at the woman I met. She meant well. But she was hurtful to me and could have been harmful for someone else in my position. I told her that if I had this same conversation with her 5 years ago, it would have messed me up. I would have walked away thinking that God and the church wants me to stay in an abusive marriage – that’s the only godly option. My interaction with her is not the only hurtful interaction I’ve had with people from the church responding to my separation. 

And it sucks. 

It sucks to be on the receiving end of it. 

It also sucks to be that woman, who’s trying her best to be supportive and loving, and making huge blunders that I’m sure she feels bad about now. 

It sucks to be the Church with such big expectations to respond well to so many niche issues: crises of faith, crises of parenting, crises of marriage, crises of abuse. There’s so much to address, and so little time/funding/manpower to get right. 

I won’t excuse what happened with me and the woman. It shouldn’t have happened. But I’m proud that I advocated for myself. I’m also walking away with an important lesson that I don’t have to explain myself to everyone. Because that conversation with her was exhausting. I don’t owe an explanation to anyone. If people think that I didn’t persevere enough or was not spiritual enough to stay in marriage, that’s something they need to take up with God – I am not responsible for that ignorance. And if I do choose to share or educate, I want it to be from a place of empowerment and grace. One day, I do hope that I can help churches be better in their response to abusive and destructive marriages. But for now, I’m going to focus on getting better for myself, knowing that God loves me and is with me through this separation.