Waiting for an inevitable divorce to be finalized can feel like watching grains of sand falling through an hourglass. However, it is an hourglass without a time limit, without consistent speed, and without the ability to flip over to start time all over again. This internal, unpredictable, time evolution is very unsettling.
How is it possible to survive the days and nights in which you see the sand pile growing in the bottom of the hourglass, while the emptying top reflects a hollowing heart?
Try to refocus. Instead of staring at the hourglass, explore what surrounds it. You can't control the falling sand, but maybe there is something you can manage.
The first major refocus I made during my divorce court journey was to tell my attorney I wanted to continue homeschooling. I had homeschooled my children since kindergarten and at that point, they were in elementary and middle school. I wanted them to continue the path my husband and I originally agreed to.
My attorney told me it would be impossible for me to homeschool, financially support myself and, oh by the way, judges historically ruled against homeschooling. I was told if we went to a trial, our judge would rule in favor of their father's new wishes to have them attend our public school. I was told I would lose this battle and I should spend my energy and money on something else.
Here's the refocus: in spite of these crushing negative opinions, I had a nagging urgency that I needed to at least present the benefits of homeschooling to our judge. I didn't want to cause any more disruptions in their lives than we already had. I knew keeping them home for a little longer was what God wanted. I knew if I didn't try to protect them, I would forever REGRET not asking.
And at the same time, I didn't want to ignore the advice of my attorney. I spent countless nights mapping out every possible outcome if I stopped homeschooling. All were horrific in my mind (I'm not anti brick and mortar schools. I just knew those weren't my answer at the time).
Because of my unwillingness to budge on this issue (and a few others), my divorce landed me in court. That meant I was giving a judge permission to determine my children's educational future. My fear of what his decision might be nearly immobilized me.
In December 2018, I sat in a courtroom, pled my logic for homeschooling, and, shockingly, I was granted the opportunity to continue homeschooling. My attorney said he had never heard of a case in our state supporting the continuation of homeschooling after divorce.
That win, that small gift, let me know two things.
God saw me.
I wanted to push through my divorce without regrets.
When I was able to refocus on having "no regrets", my perspective of the divorce shifted. I knew I couldn't control the outcome. But what I could control was me. Ultimately, I wanted to be able to look at my children and say I did everything I believed God wanted me to do even though I had no idea what the outcome would be. Isn't that what faith and trust are?
Don't get me wrong- it wasn't easy. It felt like bungee jumping off a cliff, not sure if the rope would hold and if it did hold, would I pass out or throw up bouncing up and down? I had many experiences that I did wrong. But I don't regret many of them. I did what I could do with what I had.
Take this time to refocus and lean into the decisions you won't regret. Fighting for your children's safety, your financial stability, and your personal peace are worth every second, minute, or hour you spend on it.
"You can't go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending." ~C.S. Lewis
Look around you. Where will you focus?
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