My Loveless Marriage

Why Divorce Wasn’t the Answer to My Emptiness

By Judy Bodmer

I lay in bed staring at the darkness. My husband, Larry, was snoring softly beside me. We’d just had another fight. I could hardly remember what had started it, but we’d said ugly, hateful things. God, I prayed, help me find the strength to leave.

Hitting the Wall

After ten years of marriage, I wanted out. Our love hadn’t died in the heat of this battle or any other battle. It had died at the bottom of a wall it couldn’t climb.
It wasn’t one big issue; it was years of small things: buried anger, unmet needs, silences, and cold shoulders. Larry wasn’t abusive, he hadn’t committed adultery, nor was he addicted to alcohol or drugs. He came home every night and worked hard to support our family. He just wasn’t the guy I’d married and I was miserable. The marriage books we read made things worse; counseling had confused the issues.

Divorce seemed the answer. It would give me a chance to start over and find the right person. Yes, it would be hard on the children, but if I were happy, I’d be a better parent. In the long run, it would be best.

Divorce’s Price Tag

But is divorce the answer? 

I took a long, hard look at the single mothers I knew. They were exhausted and lonely. No one was there to help soothe crying babies, entertain toddlers, shuttle kids to practices, or help with the house, yard, and car.

Their children blamed them for the divorce. Some of their teenagers stayed out all night, drinking, doing drugs, and running away.

My dream of finding the right guy was a myth too. I looked at my husband and realized I would marry the same kind of personality all over again, only my life would be complicated by his kids, my kids, and an ex-husband.

God showed me I might escape my current pain, but in the long run, divorce extracted a high price. One I wasn’t willing to pay.

Fanning the Flames

Okay, if I was going to stay something had to change. I knew it wouldn’t be my husband. There was only one person I could change: me. I stopped thinking that my happiness was my husband’s responsibility and started to work on myself.

I joined a women’s Bible study and applied what I learned. I read books, not for what Larry should be doing better, but for what I could change.
I applied 1 Corinthians 13 and treated Larry as if I loved him. Instead of pointing out his shortcomings, I told him the things he did right. Amazingly, as I changed, so did my husband.

My decision to stay went against everything the world told me. Jesus promised, “I have come that [you] may have life and have it to the full” (John 10:10). I decided if God was my God, I could trust this promise. I asked him to restore my love.

Rekindled

The love I thought had died didn’t return in a week, a month, or even a year. One weekend Larry and I went to the coast for a getaway. Before we left, we prayed and drew a line in the sand. This was a new beginning. That weekend I experienced a new passion for my husband. The flame I thought had died was rekindled.

Today, I shudder at what I almost threw away. The love I have is strong. It’s born out of suffering and obedience. There is hope for loveless marriages. Our relationship is living proof.