I never thought divorce would happen to me. I thought it was for other people—people who didn’t love Jesus, or people who weren’t willing to sacrifice for their marriages. To me, getting divorced implied you weren’t a faithful Christian. So when my husband told me he was in love with someone else, I didn’t think that would lead to divorce. But three years later, when I signed the final divorce papers, I realized that even though this wasn’t my plan, it was my story. A story I never wanted. God used even this to grow my faith. When he was all I had to cling to, I realized he was all I needed. In the ruins of the life I’d known, God helped me rebuild on a different foundation, not based on what I’d done or could do but based purely on his faithfulness. Here are a few truths I learned through the process. Lament Helps Us Navigate Grief My grief came in waves. Though I wanted to grieve the loss of my marriage and quickly move past it, I couldn’t schedule my grief. It ambushed me. A song on the radio, a movie, or driving past familiar places could all send me spiraling. Lament helped me navigate the grieving process. I brought expressions of desperation and doubt to God every day. I poured out all my emotions—writing them, whispering them, even screaming them. My sister once saw my journal and remarked that she’d never been that honest with God. Yet that unvarnished honesty became a foundation for rebuilding: trusting God with my emotions, telling him everything, not trying to present a buttoned-up Christian life. Even though divorce was not my plan, it was my story. And God used it to grow my faith. Often, I’d read a psalm in the morning and rewrite it in my own words. Words that applied to my pain, my questions, and my situation. I’d write until I had nothing left, scribbling on tear-stained pages that detailed my fear and confusion. I kept asking questions like “How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?” (Ps. 13:1). Then something would shift in me, as it did for the psalmists. After pouring out my complaint, my heart would slowly turn. Accusation would give way to trust. My words didn’t sound spiritual, but in God’s providence, they drew me to him. Acknowledging my emotions enabled me to release them. Bitterness Keeps Us Stuck in the Past As I worked through my grief, it was tempting to keep dwelling on how I’d been harmed. I replayed all the lies I’d believed and the ways I’d been wronged until they wore grooves in my mind. I fantasized about revenge, about seeing my ex-husband hurt as deeply as he’d hurt me. I didn’t plan to act on these thoughts—they just seemed like a harmless consolation. But they weren’t harmless; these thoughts were destroying me. Bitterness tied me to my former husband, who had moved on, while I remained stuck in the past. I was comforting myself with revenge, not realizing that this bitter consolation was poison to my soul. Vengeance belongs to the Lord, and we’re called to leave it to him (Rom. 12:19). When I finally relinquished to the Lord my grudge and my right to get even, I found freedom. Rebuilding Comes in Small Steps All that I’d built and mistakenly put my identity in had been burned to the ground. I didn’t know how to rebuild. So months after my husband moved out, my sister came to help me. We sat in a coffee shop and talked about what my new life could look like. I was comforting myself with revenge, not realizing that this bitter consolation was poison to my soul. She reminded me that my true identity was in Christ, and not in what I did or didn’t do well. Then we brainstormed practical ideas together. We talked through vacations I could manage as a single parent. New traditions I could institute. How I could ask others for help. Things that make me laugh. When we got home, we walked into the closet I’d shared with my husband. Some of his shirts were still hanging there, and she pulled them down and boxed them up because she knew what a painful reminder they were. But after we’d taken everything down, the empty space brought a fresh sadness. Thankfully, her plan didn’t end there. She put a card table beneath the bare closet rod, mounted a bulletin board, brought in my Bible and journal, and plugged in a light. It became my favorite corner of the house, a sacred space where I met with God—the place where God ignited my passion for him. For me, rebuilding didn’t require drastic decisions but small, intentional steps. And I needed others to come alongside me to help me figure out the way forward. If you’re divorced or going through divorce, rebuilding may feel impossible. Your life may feel as though it’s been leveled. Lean into lament. Let go of bitterness. With others’ help, move forward one small step at a time. Even as you sit in the wreckage, you can trust that the Lord has good plans for us as his people, plans to give us a future and a hope (Jer. 29:11).

If you’re struggling with a mental health challenge, remember that you can trust God to love you no matter what and to help you with whatever you need. God is not hiding his face from you; he’s right there with you, waiting for you to reach out and take his hand.

You’re rushing past miracles every single day, and it’s costing you peace. What if the beauty you’ve been ignoring is exactly what your anxious heart needs?

After a cold and dark winter, many of us are looking forward to springtime. While winter has many beautiful aspects, spring has many wonderful things as well. If you prefer warmth over coldness, spring is something you anticipate. Most of us love the springtime flowers and longer days, but how many of us have tried new activities specifically because it is springtime? Throughout the seasons, there are unique activities that we can enjoy with our families. As a child, my mom planned seasonal activities to keep my sisters and me engaged during each time of year. Whether your family does this or not, there is something fun about participating in seasonal activities. If you want to try a few ideas this spring, here are five activities to try:Photo Credit: ©Getty Images/Halfpoint

He gives us the means to embrace His love so we can give ourselves space to grieve and grace to heal.