“How long will you grieve…?” 

I was reading through 1 and 2 Samuel in September 2018, studying the life of David – the best example, in my opinion, of a man who fell to temptation but was still used mightily by God because of his genuinely repentant heart.  You can’t get to David’s story though without reading about Saul, the once-chosen king of Israel, who will probably be the subject of his own blog pretty soon because he is a tremendous example of willful disobedience leading to the removal of God’s favor, which is the backdrop for the opening question here.  “How long will you grieve for Saul since I have rejected him from being king over Israel?”   

This was God’s question to Samuel in 1 Samuel 16:1.  I’d read the passage before, but this was the first time that question grabbed me.  I read the frustrated tone, imagining God exasperated with Samuel’s inability to accept that God had removed his calling for Saul to be king of Israel.  It must have been hard for Samuel.  He delivered the news when God selected Saul, placing His favor and calling on the young, humble (at the time) man who seemed to feel nervous and inadequate for the job, but God saw him as “head and shoulders above the crowd” (1 Samuel 9:2).  Samuel worked alongside Saul for years, advising him at times, warning him other times about disobedience.  And now that God was fed up with Saul’s disobedience, Samuel had a hard time letting God be God.  I got it.  It’s incredibly hard to witness the fall of someone you watched God advance and favor.  It’s painful to know they chose disobedience, when simple repentance would have made such a difference in their life.  It’s hard to understand why God allowed them to choose that path instead of using His power to make things go otherwise.  It’s hard not to grieve something so devastating.  Thankfully, God allowed some grace in His question.  He allowed for grief.  He didn’t put a time frame on it, but He did imply that there would come a time when enough was enough.  A time to let go. 

I felt the niggle in my spirit like He was asking me the same question and implying there would be a time to let go, but I couldn’t fully understand why.  How could I not grieve for my husband?  Wasn’t I supposed to hold on and fight for my marriage?  He knew I was raised that way, knew I wasn’t a quitter, knew I wanted Him to flip this thing around and use it for His glory.  Surely it wasn’t time to let go yet.  No, I needed to hold on.  

And hold on, I did.  For a long time.  I am amazed by my determination – perhaps stubborn resolve even – to believe, hope, and hold on for as long as I did.  It was like an emotional rollercoaster through a little corner of hell-on-Earth, but I chose to stay on it.  I’ve wondered how different things would have been if I had exited early on, but I’ve never really regretted the way I handled it, even if I have questioned it.  I didn’t give up easily on my husband or marriage.  My kids saw how I loved their daddy and led them to pray for him and our family.  We sought God and we relied on faith, and even when things didn’t go as we wanted, we didn’t lose ultimate Hope.  Noone can ever say I didn’t try.  The Lord Himself knows I sought to be like Him, even when I knew my humanity would make it impossible for me to match His grace or forgiveness.  

God was patient with me as I grieved, but I wonder if I could’ve avoided some of the pain if I had been a little less stubborn.  I was so sure God was going to save my marriage that I absolutely would not accept anything else.  I looked for and clung to any faint tiny thing as hope, despite the huge, glaring evidence to the contrary.  And when there were actual, occasional real things – my husband crying, admissions he felt conflict or missed his family, the rare glimpse of the person I’d known for so long pre-affair – well, I latched onto those for dear life. 

But God knew things I didn’t.  He knew whether the tears came from a place of heartbreak or manipulation.  He knew whether they were solely for the kids or if there were some shed for me as well.  He knew who my husband really was at his core and whether I’d been duped for over half my life, or if my husband was so deceived that he didn’t even know himself anymore.  God knew what was going on outside our relationship that would cause my husband to seem conflicted yet stay in his affair.  God saw and heard things I did not.  And He knew that in less than a week from the time I was reading 1 Samuel that day, my husband would email a divorce-for-cheap lawyer, which would set into motion more confusion.  

God knew how our meetings would go and that my husband would choose divorce several weeks later, after initially indicating otherwise.  He even knew I wouldn’t let go despite the divorce and would hang on until my ex husband married the other woman.  Maybe He was gracious in letting that happen quickly, even though it killed me at the time, because He knew that’s what it would take for me to let go.  

And in letting go, I finally saw that I may have never felt loved by ex-husband or truly happy again.  I was doing so much for the sake of the marriage and kids at an unknown expense to myself.  God knew He had to help me in my grief.  I needed to see that I could still grieve the loss of my marriage, life as I’d thought it would be, the kids having a father at home…I could miss making decisions with someone, sharing responsibility, having warm legs to put my cold feet on… without grieving him in particular.  I could even grieve the man I’d known him to be and the love I thought we had without wanting a love with him again.  

I don’t regret the way I grieved.  It was the evidence of deep, long-standing love.  But I’m thankful God was patient with me and knew what it would take to re-open my eyes and heart to healing.  He knows I still have triggers, memories, and moments when the past disturbs the present. But He also knows my future.  Whether He’ll keep me content with just Him and the kids or… if He’s made someone who will love me so well one day that I’ll actually feel thankful for the hurt that wrecked me.