A lot of people have individually asked me a variation of the same question: how are you and Kate? I’ve been debating holding off on doing this until after next month, but frankly I’m growing weary of having the same painful conversation over and over. So, I’ve decided it’s time. Here ‘goes.
In May, my wife moved out. It was sudden, it was surprising, and it was incredibly painful. I won’t go into details here because it’s inappropriate, but two things need to be made known: there was no abuse, and to my knowledge there was no other person. There was simply a lack of love. The months that have followed have been a rollercoaster. I removed myself from a handful of pastoral opportunities, I sought counsel from my mentors and close friends, and I began working for Regions Bank in Lincoln. I spent a lot of time unintentionally alone because I was living in a city that I was unfamiliar and full of people I didn’t know.It was depressing, but I spent time trying to prepare myself for a return to the way things were. It didn’t come. So, I instead spent time thinking and praying on what it would mean to be a divorced man. For years I’ve used “husband” as more than just a title that I carry: it was a tangible and critical part of my identity. Now I needed to wrap my head and heart around what it would mean to remove that part of me. So I mourned. I mourned the loss of my companion, and I mourned the assumed loss of my identity. And it sucked. I have a handful of friends who I credit with keeping me alive and above the water this summer. To you who have constantly checked in on me, forced me to work through my stuff, and who have loved me far beyond deserving: thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. You are God’s gift to the hurting. Here’s the deal: I’m not writing this for sympathy. If you care about me and want to reach out, great! I appreciate you. But I’m not fishing for that. I’m also not writing this because I want you to take a side. That doesn’t help anyone. It takes a hateful person to try and draw battle lines in friendships like that. Some of you have gravitated one way or the other in support and have been a great help to us both, but I would ask that you not allow that support of the one to become disdain for the other. Finally, I don’t write this to throw Kate under the proverbial bus. Neither of us are innocent in this, and both of us have suffered a loss. Throwing mud helps no one, and I would ask that you respect that. Ok, so there you are: in a couple of weeks our divorce will be final. What I’m feeling now isn’t what I was feeling months ago, but that doesn’t necessarily make it easier. What I do know is that while the past is concrete, the future is malleable. So I’m focusing on healing and making certain that this situation can’t happen again. To my former students—some of which are husbands and wives themselves, and some of which are still young adolescents—I’m sorry. I’ve always tried to be as transparent with y’all as I can by making it clear that I will one day fail you, and in this I haven’t been transparent. I’ve kept it away from you for fear that you’d have to walk into a situation that you frankly don’t deserve to walk into. But what I’ve actually done is failed you in the worst way. Not only have I failed to model what it means to be a healthy husband, but I’ve failed to show that I’m capable of hurting. I would hope that that doesn’t cancel out what I’ve attempted to teach you over the years, but I would certainly understand—and appreciate—if you’re angry with me. To whoever is still reading this: if you want to talk about what happened to lead to this, I’m happy to talk. But be warned: you aren’t going to get he said she said. You aren’t going to get a sob story about how I was wronged. What you’ll get instead is a cautionary tale of how mistrust and resentment can creep into love in the worst way if it’s allowed. Again, thank you to those who have gone out of their way to keep me afloat. I love you and am honored to call you friend. Sincerely, Chaz
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ChazLearner, Sojourner Archives
January 2019
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