Our Divorce Didn’t Follow A Typical Script, And That Made People Uncomfortable

Our 33-year-long marriage ended over Zoom.

Not in a courtroom. Not with slammed doors, raised voices or a dramatic final goodbye. Because we were still living in the aftermath of Covid-19, our divorce hearing happened quietly through a computer screen ... as casually as any routine virtual meeting.

I wrestled with what to wear that day. Should it be businesslike or casual? In the end, I was glad I chose something simple, because the moment itself was far less formal than I expected. It was just me and my soon-to-be ex-husband, the judge and our legal representation. The whole thing took no more than 10 minutes.

At one point, the judge even paused and asked if we were absolutely sure this was what we wanted. I think our kindness toward one another – and the fact that we both had smiles on our faces and even chuckled several times – caught him off guard.

In his defense, he was probably accustomed to presiding over divorce cases filled with tension, bitterness or silence so sharp it can cut through air. But my former husband and I simply smiled and answered the same way: “Yes.” And just like that, our three-plus decades of being married was done.

I expected to feel grief afterwards, but I was surprised by the absence of regret. Nobody really talks about peaceful divorce, especially in the church, and especially when you’ve spent more than 25 years in ministry and are the people others assumed would make it all the way to the finish line together.

The hardest part wasn’t ending the marriage. It was disappointing people who needed our marriage to represent something. How many people stay in situations, not because they’re right for them, but because other people are invested in their story? And how many of us have silenced our own truth to preserve a story that no longer belonged to us?

For weeks before sharing the news publicly – well, not that publicly… only our kids, my sisters, a few others, a quick mention in a blog post, and a reference to it in my last two books (heck, it’s been almost four years now, and some people still don’t know) – I went back and forth on whether I wanted to tell anyone at all.

It wasn’t because I was ashamed of our decision, but because I knew how quickly people assign failure to divorce, especially in Christian circles. I dreaded the whispers, the pearl-clutching, the subtle disappointment hidden behind concerned expressions. I could already hear the questions forming in people’s minds: What happened? Who changed? Whose fault was it? Who gave up?

The truth was far less dramatic than people probably wanted it to be. There was no........

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