Kicked While Down

In September 2019, my divorce from my first wife was finalized. By November, I was engaged, and in January 2020, I married my second wife. I pursued this marriage without regard for its biblical implications, trying to escape a tidal wave of guilt and shame that eventually overwhelmed me.

By the summer of the following year, my actions had caught up with me. The woman who had once been my loyal best friend understandably despised me. I had gone from being an active presence in my children's lives to seeing them only every other weekend. My mother-in-law harbored resentment toward me, and my younger sister-in-law no longer saw me as a protector but as a selfish individual. Sadly, she was right.

I found myself weeping uncontrollably for two days, overwhelmed by guilt with nowhere to hide. In a moment of despair, parked in a vacant lot, I heard the words, “blessed are the poor in spirit.” Having heard prodigal stories throughout my life in church, I clung to the hope of finding the same forgiveness and mercy. I knew I needed to turn to Christ and His church, so I scheduled a meeting with the pastor of the church I was attending at the time.

The meeting did not go as I had hoped. From the start, the pastor seemed uninterested. I shared my story in detail, but once I finished, he simply told me that the church only offered Sunday morning services and that I couldn't join a small group. He rushed me out, commenting about always being the one to lock the doors. As I heard the door latch behind me, I felt both physically and spiritually locked out of the church.

After weeks of not hearing from him, I emailed him, having fallen into deeper despair. I confessed my struggles, including suicidal thoughts, hoping for help. It took almost two weeks for him to respond, and his email was brief: “Sin sucks. I’m sorry you’re going through this.” I realized then that I couldn't find the help I needed through him.

Thinking perhaps my expectations were too high, I reached out to my former pastor, hoping for a different response. We met at a coffee shop, where I shared my story again. Throughout, he listened with a blank stare and gritted teeth. When I finished, he told me he didn’t like or trust me and wasn’t the right person to talk to. He was upset about how I had left the church and vented his anger at me.

After this meeting, I felt utterly defeated and remained in that mindset for the next three years. By grace, I eventually found hope in a place I never expected. 

Side note:

My ex-wife and I have become good friends. She has shown me a grace I never expected. After openly repenting to my sons, they have forgiven me and demonstrated unconditional love. My ex-wife's family and I are also working on rebuilding our relationship.

Neither pastor has reached out to me. My former pastor still says he can't talk to me.

It’s strange that the people who have shown me the most grace are the ones I hurt the most. Perhaps it’s because they were the ones who always truly loved me.