Thank you again for the links, Lady Magenta. I've been spending the past several minutes going through John's posts. So far, this is the one that I identified with the most:
John, I can relate to this very well.
My husband left me when I was in my 20's. He gave me no reason why. We were fighting a lot, yes. And one day, I came home from work to a half-empty house that he had moved out from without telling me. He had divorce papers sent to me in the mail, with the heading being, "You Are Being Sued For Divorce." The good church people told me I must now remain single for the rest of my life. I was 25, and the thought of spending the every minute from now on to my dying day as a single person was more than I could bear. People then chastised me even more when I became depressed and had suicidal thoughts. I was told I wasn't really a Christian to begin with.
Several months later after I had moved out of the area (I can't remember how much time went by, but it at least 6, 8 months? Maybe closer to a year -- it was so long ago, I can't remember) and a friend called me at about 2 in the morning with the answer that had eluded me for so long.
He had a girlfriend, but they had kept it a secret until long after I left. In fact, I found out he had been storing things for her in our house, and the only reason he came back one day (while insisting I not be there,) was to collect his girlfriend's things (apparently hidden somewhere in the shed, which I rarely went into.) Despite all the outer judgment from "Christians," I had a Biblical reason for divorce and didn't even know it -- and I would have never known it -- if my friend wouldn't have taken the time to make that phone call.
I was terrified of two things:
1. First, I was scared I would never find anyone I felt bonded with as I did with him. We had certain things in common that were very unique, like ethnic backgrounds, so we had both been bullied in the same ways throughout our lives. He could relate to me in ways no one else could because my family is a different ethnicity than I am. For the first time, I felt like I belonged -- and with someone who was often seen as a misfit, just like me. We had also been raised in countries/cultures other than where we were born, giving us a special bond through our unusual circumstances.
2. Second, I was petrified that I would be single for the rest of my life.
So far, both of those things have happened and still ring true today. I'm not looking for a clone of my ex -- just someone I could feel as connected with, for whatever reasons, even if they were entirely different. But it's never happened. I am adopted and couldn't handle being rejected by first my birth parents and then my own husband. He never spoke to me again after our court date.
Years later I found out from someone that he had remarried and they had at least 2 children. He had also gone on to do things he had talked about while he was still with me. I went numb inside. I couldn't handle it. I didn't understand why God's hand seemed to be with him, but He had left me behind. I began to listen to people's judgments and wonder if they were right, and that's why God was punishing me.
Sometimes I still don't understand, and I go back and forth between feelings of sadness, anger, confusion, and disappointment.
I'm not trying to make this about me at all, but rather, I say all this to say, I understand, and I'm sorry you've been so hurt, John. I truly am. And I'm sorry for all you've been through because of it.
I am a far way from being 25, and I am also a far way from being 70, but I've gone through enough years of being single to be able to at least empathize with you. It's very possible that someday I might be your age, still single, and feeling the same way you do.
I wish I could give you some magic words of encouragement, or something to say to make it better, but I know only God can do that, and I know it feels like your wounds are being salted when no answer appears, or when others get what you long to have.
I know in my own life, God seems to have often said, "I'm not giving you this, but I'm giving you that instead." There have been many times I haven't been very happy with the "substitutions" -- work, church, co-workers, family -- always someone to try to help, always someone to try to look after, even when you may feel that there isn't anyone looking after you.
I truly am sorry for your loneliness. I know it very well. And though I don't have have as much life experience, I can sympathize with having to do everything alone. I'll be flying across the country at some point in the future, and it's always alone, which I hate just as much as you.
Again John, I am sorry.
And I will most definitely keep you in my prayers.