Why Remain Catholic Through Divorce

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An Empty Catholic Church

I crawled literally on my hands and knees in the dark. The grass was cool beneath me; the tears were hot streaming down my cheeks. I searched for the Crosses I'd flung across the backyard earlier. I was hurt. I was terrified. I was mad at God. What had happened to my life? To the lives of my children? To my family? To our whole world?

So often during those first couple of years I'd run images in my head trying to figure out what had happened. My husband and I had been best friends and had renewed our vows on Valentine's Day 2009. What had happened to change him so drastically? Had he changed or had I misjudged him the entire time? I couldn't know. What I did know is that shortly before we renewed our vows, he reconnected with an ex-girlfriend on Facebook and that on Mother's Day of that same year he suddenly announced he was leaving, moving out just a week later.

I was also five months pregnant with our fifth little boy.

I went to church Sunday after Sunday. I faced the whispers around me. I faced those who asked how I was even though I was too tired to tell the story again and knew they were more interested in gossip than in how we really were. I faced those who didn't dare ask even though I desperately wished  I could seek their help. I faced those who stayed away because, as one woman put it, if it happened to our family it could happen to anyone's. I faced those who told me divorce was contagious and they now worried for their own families.

I spoke to the other woman's brother, a priest at a nearby parish. "Please help me," I begged, "Your sister is having an affair with my husband." I realize now how unfair it was to go to him, but I was desperate and hoped someone who shared the faith and loved this woman would help her see what she was doing. I didn't want to hurt the other woman. I thought she had probably made a mistake, that she didn't know about our family, the private jokes my husband and I laughed at, the love we shared. I wanted someone to understand and explain to her. A few days later, the priest left me a voicemail telling me to talk to my parish priest. My life was falling apart, and I was left with an understandable, but painfully dismissing, voicemail from the one person I hoped could help.

 To read the rest of Why I chose to remain Catholic Through Divorce, please join me at Single Mom Smiling.

God Bless...

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