In today’s world, it can be fairly difficult to be a twenty-something Christian. Not only do we deal the normal pressures a young person faces (school, dating, sex, work, etc.), but we do so with certain labels stapled to us by a hardened world simply because we choose to believe the way we do. Getting to a place of personal comfort and acceptance can often times be difficult. Now, take all of that and pile on the stigma of being divorced while within the disapproving confines of the Christian culture. To put it mildly: it ain’t easy.

I was married at 19, and after three years of marriage, my wife and I decided to part ways and end our union. It wasn’t an easy decision to make—especially since our daughter had just been born—but our relationship was beyond resolve. This was partly because I had married her when I didn’t love her and partly because we were no longer getting along on any level. We decided we didn’t want to raise our daughter in a home filled with loudly spouted words and angry feelings.

Since we were both raised in Christian homes and taught that divorce is against the Word and wishes of God, you can imagine how disappointed our families were—especially in me. I can’t speak for my ex-wife and what she went through because that isn’t my place, but I can truthfully say that for the year or so after my divorce, I had never felt more alone in my life. Though they loved me, my family’s disappointment resulted in ostracizing me, in a way, from their comfort and love. Their attitude and temperance had hardened against me because I had dared to break from what I had been taught all my life. It wasn’t an easy time, and honestly, I found myself in a deep and dark place that I am neither proud of nor willing to return to. Frankly, I am happy to have survived.

Through those times of dejection, I found myself dealing with feelings of guilt and lack of worth. Because of my being divorced, I walked an unsteady beat toward acceptance. Not only did I have my family issues to deal with, but I also had to face the disapproving glances from my church and its saints. When I walked into service—on the rare occasions I found the courage to attend—I felt as if I wore a scarlet letter on my chest. It was a senseless and brutal assault on my psyche, but one I felt was earned at the time.

Dating was even worse.

I wouldn’t allow myself to enter into a new relationship until I had healed from the one that ended. Yet even then, it was hard to find a girl who could accept me as someone who was whole and unburdened. They saw my baggage and prejudged the person I was based on what I’d been through. That wasn’t easy.

I would only date a good, Christian girl, but none of the good, Christian girls wanted me. Catch-22 doesn’t begin to explain it.

I won’t pretend that divorce is okay; it isn’t. It’s wrong. But so is holding someone’s past decisions against them. Through my situation, I discovered that a Christian divorcee is often times seen as a lesser Christian. We have folded from what we are taught, and in return, we are looked down upon. To that, I have but one response: hate the sin, love the sinner.

We have all sinned and fallen short of God’s grace, but for one reason or another, when a fellow Christian becomes a divorced Christian, they are dealt a harsher punishment than if they had lied or stolen something. Even after time has passed and the parties involved have moved on, that reputation of failed Christianity remains—and that can be more hurtful than anything. 

The Bible says that sin is not relative and every act is equal. So why are we so quick to remove value from a divorced Christian? We are no less worthy of God’s love and forgiveness.

Consider this: if the mighty Creator of all that is good and holy can find it in His heart to forgive those who have failed the test of marriage, then shouldn’t we as well?

I’m happy to say that I made it through all the judgments and disapprovals—of the dating world and everyday life. And while I haven’t married again just yet, I’ve moved beyond the place where my past dictates my romantic relationship. Dating isn’t always easy because of the lingering stigma of divorce, but God has seen fit to bless me with a wonderful woman who bases her love for me on who I am and who I’ll be rather than on who I was or what I’ve been through.

And you know what? There is no better feeling in the entire world than that.

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My debut novel “These Were the Nights” will be available everywhere this spring.