The Unraveling of a Knit-together Heart

The evening of the 16th, we sent a longer version of this out to friends and family:

This may come as quite a shock. With great sadness, we (Kevin & Christina) have decided to separate. We did not come to this decision lightly. In fact, we have godly professional counsel agreeing with this course of action. Though we love each other and remain best friends, there are irreconcilable issues at this point in our relationship. It breaks our hearts to think of living apart from each other, but we feel it is ultimately for the best. Though not all of you will agree with our separation, we ask you to respect our choice and support our family though the pain and loss we each are feeling.

We are doing our best to provide a calm, loving environment as we transition into separate households. Our hearts are heavy, but they are lightened when we think of the care and support you give to each of our kids. Our focus is truly on causing the least damage possible to our children.

We praise God for what He is going to teach us through this heartbreak and we continue to believe in a God of miracles. We welcome your prayers over this situation and wish we could tell you each face to face, though physically and emotionally that would be impossible.

My heart is still breaking–of course–but how can I not share with you all? But I am fully aware that (1) this is a public arena and (2) my children might read this someday. For those two reasons, I’m not going to be very specific as I make my way through all this pain.

Some of you are aware of our history. We met when I was fifteen and I’ve loved him ever since. Still do. We separated five years ago for about two months while working our way through one of the typical marriage-killing occurrences. At that point, we dealt with the root causes. I will not let the enemy steal the glory of the healing that took place during that time. We reunited, making promises I know we both felt sure would be kept.

But they weren’t.

I have no anger, no blame. There’s just a gaping hole of grief and sadness. Everything in my life is in transition. The myriad of details threaten to overwhelm me if I think of all I have to do. Of losing the house, of finding a “real” job, of losing my best friend. Of what effect this might have on our children. Of what Kev’s or my life will look like in five years.

Then I cast all my anxiety on God, because He cares for me. Refuse to borrow worries from tomorrow as today DEFINITELY has enough of it’s own.

I’ll share more as I can. Maybe some of you will follow me on this journey because you’ve been through this pain. You’ll be able to give me encouragement, or a kick in the rear, when I need it. I need every piece of wisdom I can get.

I’ll post more as I’m able. Slogging through this situation drains me of both time and energy, but I want to leave you with one thought:

At AWANA last night, the children were given a few minutes in class to tell what they would say if Jesus walked into the room. Several wanted to thank Him for saving them, or ask how their lives would turn out. Me, I would just say, “Hold me.”