Adult Kids, Divorce, And Christmas

They don’t tell you this when you’re signing divorce papers, but you’re not just parting ways with a spouse—you’re also signing up for the emotional Hunger Games with your adult children. (May the odds be ever in your favor.) When it comes to my adult kids, divorce, and Christmas, it’s now a mix of happy memories and depressing realities. Once upon a time, Christmas was the most wonderful time of the year for me. Now, not so much because half of my kids and stepchildren treat me more like Satan than Santa.

When a fond holiday memory flashes through my brain, one of my personal challenges is to try and be thankful rather than nuked by the ghost of Christmas past. This positive spin helps to keep me from spiraling into depression, but it’s a battle. Every. Single. Day.

First, let me say I love my kids. I’d give a kidney to any of them. But post-divorce, suddenly, you’re not just Dad (or Mom). You’re now “The One Who Screwed Up And Must Be Navigated Carefully.” Every interaction feels like a delicate dance on a minefield—one wrong step and someone’s feelings will explode.

Unexpectedly, simply loving my kids feels like a competitive sport, and I’m losing because my kids think I don’t love them like I used to. I experience their wrath whenever they feel slighted or mistreated. Then there’s the frequent accusation: “You chose her over us!” Of course, they accuse me of being selfish, too. I probably should have known better, but it astounds me how decades of being a good dad have been forgotten since my divorce. Why do we humans tend to judge others by their latest and greatest failures?

Yes, I sinned…

Yes, I rejected a parent that they love. Yes, I chose my path, and I failed. Yes, there are consequences to choices. But where is it written that I cannot love them anymore since I don’t love their mom? Why does it have to be an either-or scenario rather than a both-and? I love my new wife, and I love my kids. Always have. Always will.

I know I caused them (and a lot of people) pain. I know I brought a stepparent into their world, which they never asked for. I know I failed, and I have asked and begged for forgiveness time and time again. And I know healing can take time. But I cannot undo what has been done, and I long for a second chance at a relationship. As Sabina Tagore Immanuel wrote, “The God of the Bible delights in giving second chances to all.”

Like it or not, accept it or not (and many don’t), I am happy and whole again, and my marriage now brings me great joy and profound satisfaction. I wish my adult kids could accept that new reality and love me unconditionally as I have loved them.

People tell me all the time, “You’re being unreasonable. It might take your kids years, maybe decades, to come around!” Then they tell me they don’t blame my kids and that I must stop making excuses.”

Let me be clear about two things:

• I am not making any excuses. I have owned my crap. And outside of self-flagellation with a whip, I don’t know what else to do.

• I don’t have decades to wait for them to come around. At 67 and suffering from cardiomyopathy, my days are numbered. I don’t want to die estranged from anyone, let alone my kids.

This will make you angrier if you’re already upset with me. Forgiveness is not optional for those who claim to walk with Jesus. He said we must forgive and bless even our worst enemies (I think that includes divorced dads). And for those, like some of my kids, who say, “I forgive you, but I don’t have to be in a meaningful relationship with you,” my answer is clear: bullpucky.

The entire point of forgiveness is restoration. (Read that last line again, please.) God forgave us so we could be in a relationship with Him. We forgive others to restore our relationship with them. Unless you are at legitimate risk of physical, sexual, or emotional abuse, you don’t get to “create a healthy boundary” that excludes a loving and humble person from your life. Righting someone off may make your life easier, but love bears and endures all things (1 Cor. 13:7).

I am the adult child of divorced parents.

When my mom and dad split, it was painful. I remember the anger and disappointment I experienced. But I ended up with a stepdad for over 25 years who became a friend and an amazing gift to me. So yes, it’s absolutely possible to move forward and build a beautiful life with a divorced dad (or mom) and a stepparent.

Here’s the truth: if I did not deeply love my kids, their rejection and wrath wouldn’t be hard on me, but it is excruciating because I love them with every ounce of my being. Sometimes, I scream into the darkness, “I’m done! I can’t take the agony of being eliminated from their lives any longer! I sucked as a faithful husband, but I was (am) a good dad!” But even when love gets tangled up in misunderstandings and harsh words, it’s still love.

So, I will wait. I will apologize and continue to own my multitude of sins. I will endure the awkward moments and try not to guilt-trip anyone. (Admittedly, one could interpret this article that way.)

But I write for those who are in the same boat as me. This soul outpouring isn’t for my kids or those who’ve never failed in a marriage. This post is for the broken. Take heart. It’s messy, sure. But if you keep choosing grace, love, and forgiveness, you just might survive the Hunger Games.

And maybe, just maybe, we’ll all learn to dance on those minefields a little better soon. Or, hopefully, get out of the danger zone altogether.

I pray so.

Please leave a comment below, and let’s engage in a conversation.

You can find out more about Kurt Bubna and his writing on Twitter and Facebook. You can read more about his views and insights, both in his books and on his website.