I Was On My Way To Becoming A Bitter Alcoholic, But…

I’ll never forget how rapidly my spiritual life declined during that first year after my husband walked out and filed for divorce. Sure, I did a lot of tear-filled pleading and begging with God in those first few days and no doubt, that was one form of praying, but as the shock began to wear off and anger set in, my ability and desire to pray went right out the window. My sorrow was too deep and I just couldn’t find any words to say to God.

Shortly thereafter, anger had become my constant companion and there was a great distance between me and God. I could barely stand going to mass because it was so painful, and the only reason I went was out of obligation. All those happy families and couples were just reminders of what I had lost. So, I arrived late and left early until the following Sunday when I would have to put in my time again. And just like a frog in a pot of slowly boiling water, the process of me losing my faith had begun.

Fast forward two-and-a-half years… I had a new life and a new home. I had a successful career, a great social life, and I was a totally different person, but I was desperately unhappy. I had, unfortunately, sought happiness and healing in the world – what I call the “culture of divorce” – and according to the standards of everyone I knew, I should have been happy. But, the truth was, I was on my way to becoming a bitter, cynical alcoholic who would never have a successful relationship.

Here’s the kicker… One day as I stood in front of the mirror and got dressed for work, I found it impossible to look myself in the eye. I could barely put my makeup on. It was because I knew I was so very far from God and from being the woman he had created me to be. I was ashamed, even though I knew all my friends would have told me I was crazy. And then, I had yet another frightening thought which forced me to look at myself in the mirror. I realized that if I had met the  right man for me that day, he would not recognize me as the right one for him. I was so lost!

Suddenly, I had words to say to God. I’m so sorry. Please don’t give up on me. I want to change. And change I did.

The very first thing I did was go to confession, but I didn’t stand in line on a Saturday, I made an appointment with a priest so I could make a general confession. The day before the appointment, I had just about talked myself out of going because I knew I would feel humiliated by admitting all that I had done. I was heavy with the weight of my divorce and my mistakes and all that had been bothering me. But, I forced myself to go.

As I sat in Fr. Joe’s office, I experienced what I can only describe as the floodgates opening. Everything that had happened since my husband walked out came rushing out in such a way I didn’t know how to stop it. I cried a lot, but Fr. Joe listened without interruption. I told him how abandoned I felt, not just by my husband, but by God. It felt so good to be able to admit the truth.  When I was finished, I felt as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from me.

Father Joe said, “Lisa, you say you’ve felt abandoned by God, but from everything you’ve told me, it seems he’s had his hand on your shoulder the whole time. He’s been with you the entire way.”

There were no words that could have been more healing to me at that moment. After some great spiritual direction, he gave me absolution and I walked away from that meeting with Fr. Joe experiencing the peace I had been looking for all along. It was that experience that cemented my belief that the only real healing I would ever experience would be through my faith and the sacraments.

I share this story with you because, if you are divorced and struggling with your faith, you might also be staying away from the sacrament of confession. If that is the case, I encourage you to give it a chance. The graces you will receive will blow you away, not to mention the opportunity to get spiritual direction and your burden lifted. I do hope you will consider it.

It’s always so nice to get your emails. If you’d like to share your story or ask a question, send me an email at [email protected].