Some Major Life Updates (and how God has been with me through all of it)

divorce, healing, and a new season

Hello, dear readers! I haven’t written since early October on here (or anywhere) and that’s because I have gone through a huge, disorienting life change:

I got divorced.

I never thought that would be a part of my story. I thought I’d have enough reslient faithfulness to stick with it until God turned everything around and tied a happy little redemptive bow on everything. I had always said things like “Divorce isn’t even in my vocabulary,” “There’s no back-door,” etc. and I scoffed at celebrities who gave vague explanations for their “conscious uncoupling.” Now my own marriage has ended, and I’m not quite so judgmental anymore. I’m not going to give details—but I can say that nothing scandalous happened or anything like that, and that my ex-husband and I are on good terms and trying to co-parent as a team—but suffice to say there’s a lot to grieve, especially after twelve years of marriage and when five children are involved.

So now I’m in a totally new season. I’m single for the first time since I was 18. The kids are with their dad on weekends and alternating holidays, so now I only have them 2/3 of the time. They don’t get to go to church with me anymore. It’s all been a very strange shift in identity.

However, I’m thankful and honestly shocked that the kids and I have enough financial provision from the settlement to last awhile, so I’ve been able to focus on homeschooling and helping everyone heal for now. But it’s a little dizzying when I think about what I’ll do in the future…driving the kids to three different public schools and after-care programs while I figure out a job? Plenty of strong mamas have done it, but, whew, it’s kind of scary.

I didn’t used to struggle with fear, but sometimes I do now. I have so many questions for God, so many unknowns. Why can’t He just tell me exactly what to do or what’s going to happen? The psalms have been a good reminder that I am absolutely not the first person to ask stuff like this. For example, Psalm 44: “Wake up, Lord! Why are you sleeping? Get up! Don’t reject us forever!” (The disciples yelled something similar to Jesus when He was napping on the boat during a storm.)

But I have to tell you, honestly, truly, that God has been so near. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this close to Him. Making all these big decisions has caused me to rely on Him for almost everything.

For example, one night as I was trying to fall asleep, I kept crying out, “Where should we live, God?” The kids and I were in a wonderful temporary home but only had a couple weeks left to stay there. I had been scouring Zillow constantly, and all the rental houses I found were either way expensive or gave me some safety concerns.

Then I woke up at 3 am and had the idea to look at apartments and, upon searching, I found that one of the best-value complexes in town was a spot that’s right along our city’s gorgeous 16-mile riverwalk. I called immediately and they had one unit that would work: a first-floor, two-bedroom apartment in the most safe and ideal location. It’s been nearly perfect for us. I never thought I’d get to live in the city, and I don’t know if we’ll be able to next year, but now we do, and the kids all love it. We can walk about a mile or less to the aquarium, playground, Walnut Street bridge, children’s museum, art museum, city parks, splash pads…and more. This week we walked to the movie theatre, then later in the afternoon we walked to a small beach and my oldest son caught a fish. Fishing is his favorite hobby, and the Tennessee River is a short walk from our front door! On the weekends, I get to use my bike pass to get to further distances. (I never could have dreamed this up when I wrote the walkability post in September.)

There have been so, so many instances like that, where it really feels like God gives me “a lamp for my feet” to show me the very next step…but not further than that. What’s more important than circumstantial guidance, though, is His presence and with-ness. These aren’t just words.

One night—when the kids were gone between Christmas and New Year for winter break and I was feeling terrified, lonely, and full of grief—I curled up in a ball and cried out, “Who will hold me, God!?” and He immediately reminded me of ways He already has been holding me, not even just emotionally, but physically, through all the ways my friends and family have shown up for me and, quite literally, wrapped their arms around me through my sobbing. Friends have become so, so precious to me.

To give an example: last month, I went to a Chattanooga Urbanist Society meetup where a bunch of citizens came together to build benches so our neighbors could have a place to sit at bus stops. (My friend’s husband Jon Jon started the group and he’s an actual vigilante with the stuff he does for the city; you can watch his TEDx talk here.) After that I went to another friend’s house for a Power Point Party where we all shared silly but professional presentations just for fun that ranged from “Bear: The First Euphemism” to “The Many Lovers of Catherine the Great” to “Food Scenes From Movies That Live In My Head Rent-Free.” It was wholesome and hilarious, and when I came home that night, I couldn’t help but think, “I’ve found my people.” Weekends without my children were initially awful, but I’ve found people who share my passions, from caring tangibly for our unhoused neighbors to having innocent fun together as if we are kids ourselves.

On Tuesday and Thursday nights I’ve been taking online classes, and on weekends I’ve been practicing with peers in my cohort, working toward an ICF coaching certification that I’m hoping I can use in a career somewhere in the mental health field. I love learning, psychology, and active listening, so I’ve loved it all. I have some writing projects in-progress, too. A woman I look up to who has a powerful story asked me to ghost-write her memoir. Another friend, a former English professor, asked me to help her create some homeschool curriculum, and I think we’re going to crush it.

I feel like I’m getting to live in line with my values and interests like never before. I know my availability will change when I need to focus more intensely on financial provision, but for now I’m incredibly thankful that I get to focus on my own healing as well as helping this be as minimally traumatic for my children as possible.

The kids have been doing very well overall. Of course, as you can imagine, there have been many complex issues to navigate through all this. (And how much of it is because of divorce, and how much is just because being 11 years old is confusing?) But, seriously, they’re all amazing kids who are full of strength, resilience, and love. We still laugh and play and argue and apologize, and I think we get better at adjusting to everything every month. I am definitely so tired and never feel like I’m enough, but the healing and growth I’m seeing in all of them is quite tangible.

And it’s been interesting to be going through this situation right along with the seasons. In the fall and winter, there was a death and so, so much grey, but new life is starting to poke up through the bleakness and give hope.

I’m often paralyzed by grief and fear, yes, but I’m not sure if I’ve ever been quite this content before. If I had to sum up how I’ve felt for the past six months in a phrase, it would be “broken but whole.” Jesus has been with me again and again and again.

I don’t know how frequently I’ll write on here—or on Family Scripts—but thank you for sticking with me. My tendency is to be an open book to a fault, and I wish I could just spill all my guts on here, but my story isn’t only mine, so I can’t.

I hope that your one takeaway from this is that a person can have his or her life turned upside down and still be very okay. I’m feeling so whole, but none of it is tied to winning the lottery or finding new romance or having all my problems go away, because none of those things have happened. And I don’t need them to.

God writes better stories than I do, but even more than that, He’s with me. I have a deep, stubborn peace and happiness that can’t be shaken off, even when my world as I knew it has completely fallen apart. He’s good.

I love you all. Thank you for reading.

Love,

Hope Henchey

(I turned off comments for this post, but you’re welcome to reply to this email and reach out directly. Sorry in advance if I don’t reply.)