In Part Two, chapters III through XII, I chronicled my walk through the Black Forest of grief. That is, I took you through the forest itself: my trail, my winding path. Everyone takes a slightly different path.
In Part Three, chapters XIII and XV, I step back and look at the whole Black Forest itself in the distance. Instead of the looking at the trees, we look at the whole forest from a kind of forestry helicopter. What factors help or do not help? What factors will make my journey easier or more complicated? I compare the Black Forest of grief peculiar in divorce with the likewise peculiar grief that takes place in the death of a loved one. Though they compare, there are notable distinctions.
These three factors inform us about the binding ties: (1) our world experiences of losses in general, (2) the experiences we shared with our loved ones, and (3) our ability in general to love and be loved.
As you grieve, we try to find out what the person meant to us. While the meaning and love will remain in our hearts forever, we struggle with the finality of the loss. As meaning becomes clear, we discover what needs the departed met in our lives; these needs are binding ties.
In divorce, as the needs become clearer, we attempt to loosen the binding ties of that relationship that has now come to a divorce. Under the Bridge of Finality, we are confident that the relationship has come to an irreconcilable end; the division is permanent. There will be no return to Snowy River. If anything good at all comes through all of this, it will come through growth, change, and renegotiation.
Wherever one might hope to go‑‑alone, reconciled, with another‑‑nevertheless, under the bridge there remain some binding ties. How that person met our needs and fed our dreams and kept up our ego. How the departed made life whole for us. These are the binding ties.
Once under the Bridge of Finality, the task in grief is to assess the damage, find the needs, and loosen the significant ties. We need to set the ex-spouse free from our need.
We are not letting go of the love or what that person came to mean to our hearts. We are setting the departed free from whatever ways he or she met our needs or desires or feelings of worth. In divorce, among the ties we loosen, we are setting the other person free from meeting our need to be loved (even though we might still love them [and they us]). We are setting the other person free from meeting our need for warmth, comfort, sex. We are setting the other person free from meeting our need of affirmation.
Some might question why I did not say, "set us free from our ex-spouse"? May I use death as an example? In grieving a death, who clings: the deceased or the grieving person? Does the dead person cling? Does the dead person wrap shackles around your ankles? No, not at all. The living are the ones who are shackling the dead, clinging to the deceased. The dead person left us, and we did not like that (but the deceased has no more control whatsoever). The fact is that‑‑especially from the Christian perspective‑‑the dead person is the one who is free.
See the difference?
Once under the Bridge of Finality, the task is to loosen the binding ties and set the ex-spouse free from our need. Looking at our needs will help us see how much we cling and we shackle ourselves to the departed. As we see these needs better, we will find ways to loosen these binding ties. This takes an enormous effort in self-discovery. Sometimes, in the very viewing of the needs there is a freeing from them.
We want to loosen them and set them free without losing the positive meaning that came from that spouse, without the loss of love that anger, inadequacy and bitterness want so desperately to destroy.
In loosening these binding ties, there are at least three factors that will inform us on what our loved one meant and still means to us. These three factors inform us about love and about our needs for the departed. Through the lens of these three factors we will see some of the more significant binding ties and see some of the methods of loosening these ties. There are other factors: listen to the poets, song writers, authors, musicians, and other artists.
Keeping with a previous analogy, some of these binding ties could be seen as the larger pieces of broken glass still lying about the floor of our BrokenHeart.
All three factors are as true for death as they are for divorce. Yet in divorce, these factors play a larger role. The major reason these factors play a larger role in divorce is that "finality" is so much harder to come by in divorce than in death, which likewise makes the finding and loosening of the binding ties so much more difficult.
In death, finality seems to be worked through simultaneously with the initial denial during the shock stage. Almost hand in hand, it seems, finality and shock work together to bring a resolution early. Whereas, the two seem to be independent during a divorce. Especially if children are involved.
The three factors are: (1) our world experiences of losses in general; (2) the experiences we shared with our loved one; and (3) our ability in general to love and be loved.
We grieve and experience pain in proportion to how much the loss meant to us, meant to our inner self, as measured by how many needs the departed met.
It has been said that there are two kinds of bold and confident sailors: the experienced and the foolish. If you have sailed the Gulf Stream or around Cape Horn, tacked your way through rough waters, then your experience has made you confident and bold to face the next journey. If you have never actually sailed, then your boldness has its origins in an inflated ego and your confidence has no basis, coming as they do from an experience that cannot in reality be transferred to sailing.
If you have encountered death before, if you have encountered serious and tragic losses before, you may have some experience of grief that aids you in your walk through divorce. Though divorce is not the same, nevertheless your life experiences could prove resourceful in working through divorce. Your experiences with death and tragic loss are experiences that can give you a valid confidence in facing divorce. Looking toward the Bridge of Finality and beyond is something you can do with confidence, because in a similar way you have done this before.
But for those who have not encountered any death or significant loss‑‑how much more tragic it all becomes. One cannot have any true confidence in a place where one has not had comparable experience. There are at least three resources from which the heart will gain real confidence through the experiences of loss: one's faith, one's family, and one's help of others in loss.
If you have a strong faith and belief system, then God and his word becomes a source of strength. The principles of forgiveness and love provide guidance. The encouragements of a future heaven and a coming judgment point us toward an ultimate resolution even if resolution here on earth seems impossible. Of course the power of our loving God in our hearts can give us assurance in the present moment through prayer.
If you have no concept of God, you must rely solely upon your own efforts. Certain outcomes are likely for those with no faith or with a weak faith. Your ego and self-esteem may take a huge blow. Or your ego may become dangerously inflated in a denial of responsibility. The incredible pain is so confusing and distracting.
If you have a solid family background, those ties would prove invaluable to bolstering a wounded soul. The resource of a connected, solid, and warm family affirms and insures the validity and reality of your own personhood. Sometimes this is even taken for granted. A strong family and several good friends are often credited with being the most significant source of comfort and relief to the grieving‑‑especially to the divorced grieving.
If you are lucky enough to have such loving support, you are among some of the most fortunate people in the world. Your have a sure foundation. The family is at times‑‑many would attest‑‑more comforting than your very own faith in God. Of course, this is certainly a major avenue through which God comes to the hurting. This is the very nature of the church.
On the other hand, those without much family support have no knowledge or experience of such a foundation. Comparatively, there is an invisible chasm between the understandings of those with large families and those without. If you have a solid family, you can sympathize but cannot understand the depth of grief, for you have forever known a family connection. If you go through a divorce, you know the deep struggle of heart, but you have never had to struggle alone about anything.
You have never known the hunger, much less have you lived on emotional bread and water for years. Truly, a large extended family is not only a blessing for its members but for society as a whole.
If you did not have this blessing, you will have to struggle with the depths of your own soul, often times without anyone who has the capacity to understand. If this sounds like you, the painful struggle for survival in dignity and maintenance of self-esteem will be darn near impossible to describe: listen to the poets, song writers, authors, musicians.
But those with family have a resourceful foundation and are exceedingly blessed. If you appreciate your fortunate position, you are in a better position to imagine the loss encountered by others without such a foundation. Though limited for lack of any real experience, by virtue of your own appreciation, there can be some empathy that is heartfelt and comforting. And God will bless.
Have you worked with the bereaved? Have you any experience as a counselor or similar position in the helping professions? Then your experiences with others in their deaths, divorces, and traumatic losses provide you not only with experience but with a professional network.
The Inexperienced. If you were truly in love, and lost that love through divorce, then your life experiences of loss can be a source of strength in this journey. But those who are inexperienced will surely encounter a grief like the fear a novice sailor feels when first he or she faces the storm.
It should go without saying that the inexperienced person will undoubtedly encounter a greater trouble understanding great grief and grief work. Your first major search for what a tragic loss means to the inner self is always the hard, always confusing. If you lived in a sheltered environment, as some women in our culture do, then how much greater pain would such a loss incur?
A wife who has dedicated her life to a home, while the husband pursued a career, who likewise was continuously sheltered‑‑who then is reluctantly forced into divorce‑‑may suffer one of the greatest pains on earth. If she was left with children to care for, the pain is all the greater.
Conversely, for the single mother who enters the work force, regains her self-esteem, provides for her children, then finds love again has achieved a major victory. There may not be a greater achievement.
We grieve and experience pain in proportion to how much the loss meant to us, to our inner self, in proportion to how many needs the departed met. Many elements bring about a need. Many elements develop of dependencies. The greater the level of trust we invested in our loved one, the greater the development of meaning. All of these and more make the loss more painful. The more we cherished and the more we loved the departed, the more pain we will have in the loss.
There are at least three areas from which we can see the experiences shared in marriage. From these three experiences, meaning is created and needs come into existence. They are:
1.
The Disparity Between Men & Women
2. The Mutual Victories Shared
3. The Differences that Isolate
There are many more women than men who have invested themselves in the home, and many have developed dependencies on their husbands. In a sense, many more woman have invested a greater amount of personal trust in their husbands, where the husbands had an esteeming career and where the marriage was the wife's career. How much more painful is the divorce to the women in such circumstances?
Do we cheat men on the ability to love? Not at all. We only make a statement that there is a difference in investments. Many men love deeply and would give their lives for their homes. But of the time and personal investments, the women have given a greater preponderance to the home while the men have in all likelihood given more of themselves to their career.
We underscore the perception that women tend to love the person, where men are more likely to love what they can do or what can be done for them. Women more often focus on being, where men more often focus on function. Though the Bible values both, there is no question that a biblical love transcends "function" and cares for another's "being" with a selfless regard that would ignore "function" altogether.
This was a painful lesson for me. My ex-wife was so precious. How short I was of the love she needed.
Did you have an enduring love that lasted for many years? Did you sacrifice and work through many difficulties? Did you give your youth? Did you have children together? Did you help support your spouse through school or likewise contribute to your spouse's success? Did you suffer losses together? Did you participate in many special events together?
Some call these experiences "quality time." Whatever, the more significant events and experiences the couple shared, the closer in heart and soul they became. The more we cherish what we had, the greater the loss and the greater the grief.
All of these were investments in the bond, investments in what was thought to be lasting and permanent. Now the bond is broken. Up to this point, the bond is permanently broken. This is the reversal of prior intentions, the reversal of a life-focus.
Ouch.
In death these investments are not lost, they are enshrined. Yet in divorce, as finality comes, all of these experiences that once brought closer bonding now themselves become a source of pain. Instead of fond memories of conquest of difficulties and endurance through trials, instead of trophies of persevering love, these memories bring to mind the demise of the investment and the shattering of a dream.
The intentions and thoughts and commitments that drove the endurance of the past have now been trapped in the past. For there is no longer a future relationship in which to invest and upon which to build. In the past the relationship was built, step by step, year by year, confidence by confidence, and trust by trust; because of the brokenness and separation, there will be no more investment in that broken relationship.
In death the investment becomes enshrined and the departed loved one takes on mythical proportions. Yet in divorce, a lifetime spent in relationship is severed, and the total investment between two hearts lost is scattered, even liquidated and shared with parasites (figuratively speaking, of course). All of the pains of death and divorce cannot truly compare.
In death the departed loved one continues to be a source of strength to the survivor. Memories of the bond continue to empower after death. That is why in some scenarios martyrs become so memorable and powerful.
While in divorce, memories of the bond slay esteem.
If you depended on your spouse. If leaned on your spouse in rough times. If you followed your spouse's guidance. If your identity and self-worth was tied up in your spouse's success. If your associations were with your spouse's circle of friends. If you were the addendum or ornament to your spouse's career. The more dependent you were on your spouse, the greater the loss and the greater the grief.
If you depended on your spouse's care for the home. For the children. For meals and maintenance functions. For private and public recognition. For solace after a day's work.
If your sexual identity was met through your spouse. If your manhood (or womanhood) depended upon your spouse's sexual receptivity or affirmation or acceptance. If you discovered your sexuality. If you sexually matured with or through your spouse. If you developed a great affection for sex.
Sex issues seem to be more trouble than they are worth. Yet so much seems to be tied to our self image. So much more could be added. If you became addicted to sex. If sex gave you power or confidence or self-worth. If your sexual experience with your spouse was traumatic or otherwise radically changed your pre-marital understanding of sex and sexual issues and sexual needs. If negative experiences and feelings developed. Impotence. Frigidity. Promiscuity.
Now, after the divorce, where you came from is of much less importance than where you are and where you will be going. Often times, the needs for sexual "activity" are rarely as informative and as important as coming to terms with the needs of sexual "identity": manhood and womanhood in general. (And claiming manhood or womanhood have nothing to do with "identity.")
Outside of procreation, the only truly positive benefit of sex is as a means of enhancing the intimacy of the marital commitment. There is hardly a more esteeming activity that can foster growth, acceptance, and pleasure. Any other use of sex is, well, exploitative or anti-relational or at least selfish.
If your world was your family. If your world became your family over a long period of time. If your spouse became your best and for the most part only friend. If you rarely socialized without your spouse. If finances were in the control of one, and the other was dependent.
If you had essentially given up your family of origin for your spouse as in living in another state or country. More frightening still, if you had lost most of your contact with your family and had become a significant part of your spouse's family. The more dependent and isolated you became with your spouse, the greater the loss and the greater the grief.
The more we cherished and the more we loved what we had, the needs multiplied and grew deeper, and so the task of grief grew larger when we parted. The task of finding what the spouse meant will be that much harder and that much more important.
Our shared experiences create meaning, and needs result. A few of the avenues to finding the resulting needs are:
A
good look at the Disparity Between Men & Women
(my maleness and her femaleness),
The Mutual Victories Shared
(between us over the
course of our friendship), and
The Differences that Isolated (us from each other).
Defining love from 1 Corinthians 13, the ability to love has several features, not the least of which is the ability to give with a selfless and enduring energy. To give without expectation of return. To sacrifice through difficulty.
If we love someone, we will give of ourselves. The greater the ability we have to love and be loved, the greater the loss, and the greater will be our grief.
How can we illustrate this factor of love in grief with regard to divorce? I do not know exactly. One way may be through a couple of contrasts.
A criminal is often self-centered. A criminal often takes without respect to the giver. The criminal often has no concept of what true giving is about (outside of what the giving will eventually return), and often has no conscience of how his actions affect the feelings of others. The opposite is love.
A betrayed person, sometimes a divorced person, a hurt person, and often an abused person‑‑because of the great loss and pain will shut off love for fear or anxiety about a future hurt. This applies in greater measure to the one who has never loved or received love. Such persons cannot give with the trusting freedom of their youth or inexperience. For they were never innocent of the hateful world about them.
If the ability to love was not crushed at some early time, at least the ability to love is now limited. The abused have learned early that trust brings pain. Loving will always have the real risk of encountering a hurt.
All this is to say: if you truly loved the first time, you will not likely love easily a second time. At best the person's ability to love and receive love is now limited.
A betrayed or abused childhood. A youthful encounter of betrayal. An adult encounter of betrayal. A prior divorce. Even a traumatic death can limit a person's ability to love and receive love. If a person has a limited ability to love, and enters into a long term relationship like marriage, then encounters divorce, the ability to love is limited further. The lesser the ability to truly love and receive love, the lesser the pain in loss. Such persons have been numbed by the trials of life. That is one thing.
The other side of this is that the person with the ability to love in abundance, who could love and receive love in abundance, this person stands in greater risk of pain. This is no secret either. Life is full of risks. The greater capacity for love and receiving love that one possesses, then in proportion to that capacity is the potential pain of loss. That is, an ability to love is a vulnerability to pain.
A similar and pertinent question is, "How much grief can God handle?" Eternal? A great love will endure any amount of pain. For a great love transcends all pain. Where and when pain has quenched love or an ability to love? This defies the senses.
I John 4:18 says a perfect love casts out fear. Minimally, this verse recognizes that here on this earth there will continually be a tension between love and fear. For at least in this life there was only one person in whom dwelt perfect love. The rest of us with God's help have to deal with imperfection in love and the resulting fear. Not the least of which are the divorced.
Those who have grown up in love and have known true love, these stand a better chance of being open to loving again or continuing in love throughout their loss. The risk is real and may not be worth the effort for some.
For others, remaining alone may be the best, and being alone is not wrong or unhealthy. So God affirms. Better to be alone than in a devastating relationship.
Being perfect in love must mean in this context a willingness to encounter great pain. Of course, that is the story of the gospel of Christ. The goal of all healing is to be able to love as God does‑‑despite the rejection and pain, to love without an expectation of return for the love given. To love as God loves.
Down here on earth, in our human experience, we attempt to approach a love that can give without an exaggerated need for a return. So those who have grown up from childhood with great and affirming love can be among those who have encountered the greatest grief; these also have the greatest resources for healthy and steadfast rowing through the Bay of Heartbrokenness. Those without much early love, who came to sincere and deep love, may have the greatest challenges.
Love . . . who would have thought it to be so hard?