Immeasurably More

I think the main thing is, if there is any confusion or doubt as to what you should do, to err on the side of trusting that God can do the impossible….

God can do immeasurably more than you could ever ask or imagine.  He can heal your heart, and he can resurrect your marriage, no matter what state it’s in.

As mere humans, we tend to limit God, especially in this extreme type of situation.  But where there is room for repentance, there is also room for forgiveness and grace.  If you can’t imagine such a miracle in your situation, choose to believe that God can and does.  And in practicing that power you possess to believe God and take him at his word, you will find the strength to commit to acting on that belief.  As we know from experience, reconciliation is a matter of trust, and it begins between you and God.

We didn’t have to remarry; biblically, the grounds for divorce were sound.  But that doesn’t negate the truth that God created marriage to be the foundation of the family, and he created the family to be the foundation of society.  The best thing we can do for ourselves, our children, and our society as a whole is to preserve marriages.  If you choose to give up your right to your ego and your pain and walk the road of forgiveness and grace, you are glorifying God and living according to his purpose.  You are giving an immense gift to yourself, your spouse, and your children.  If you allow God to heal your heart and bolster you with his grace and love, choosing to walk the difficult path, you will never regret it.

— Cheryl & Jeff Scruggs, I Do Again, p. 174-176

Beloved by God

If you believe that you are the beloved, you can offer forgiveness, even when it cannot be received.  For still you say, “I set you free and I am willing to forgive you even when you cannot forgive me, because I claim my belovedness.”  And you can move on, saying, “I can ask your forgiveness even though you cannot give it to me yet, and perhaps ever.”

— Henri Nouwen, Turn My Mourning Into Dancing, p. 80

Not Ever Hopeless

Most couples believe there is a point when the situation becomes hopeless.  But I am here to tell you it’s not true.  Jesus promised that seeking reconciliation will bear fruit, so there is great hope that a marriage can be restored to a place beyond what a couple could even imagine.

— Cheryl & Jeff Scruggs, I Do Again, p. 164

The Sacred Romance

The sacred romance calls to us every moment of our lives.  It whispers to us on the wind, invites us through the laughter of good friends, reaches out to us through the touch of someone we love.  We’ve heard it in our favorite music, sensed it at the birth of our first child, been drawn to it while watching the shimmer of a sunset on the ocean.  It is even present in times of great personal suffering — the illness of a child, the loss of a marriage, the death of a friend.  Something calls to us through experiences like these and rouses an inconsolable longing deep within our heart, wakening in us a yearning for intimacy, beauty, and adventure.  This longing is the most powerful part of any human personality.  It fuels our search for meaning, for wholeness, for a sense of being truly alive.  However we may describe this deep desire, it is the most important thing about us, our heart of hearts, the passion of our life.  And the voice that calls to us in this place is none other than the voice of God.

— Brent Curtis and John Eldredge, The Sacred Romance, p. 195

God’s Loving Embrace

The gospel calls us continually to make Christ the source, the center, and the purpose of our lives.  In him we find our home.  In the safety of that place, our sadnesses can point us to God, even drive us into God’s loving embrace.  Here mourning our losses ultimately lets us claim our belovedness.  Mourning opens us to a future we could not imagine on our own — one that includes a dance.

— Henri Nouwen, Turn My Mourning Into Dancing, p. 37

Haunted by Goodness

It strikes us that to hope in the kind of goodness that would set our heart free, we must be willing to allow our desire to remain haunted.  This side of the Fall, true goodness comes by surprise, the old writings tell us, enthralling us for a moment in heaven’s time.  They warn us it cannot be held.  Something inside knows they are right, that if we could do so, we would set up temples to worship it and the Sacred Romance would become prostitution.  We understand that we must allow our desire to haunt us like Indian summer, where the last lavish banquet of golds and yellows and reds stirs our deepest joy and sadness, even as they promise us they will return in the fragrance of spring.

— Brent Curtis & John Eldredge, The Sacred Romance, p. 140

God Knows Our Stories

But the God of Scripture is also the God who refused to nuke Nineveh, even though that’s what Jonah wanted; who forgave David for a really staggering list of wrongdoings; who wants only for us stiff-necked people to repent and come home; who goes out into the stormy night for the one lost black sheep; who throws a party when the Prodigal Son returns; who loves us so much that God did indeed send his only begotten son to come live with us, as one of us, to help understand our stories — each one unique, infinitely valuable, irreplaceable.

— Madeleine L’Engle, The Rock That Is Higher, quoted in Glimpses of Grace, collected by Carole F. Chase, p. 323

God’s Fatherly Love

I have been asked, and many times, “But can’t we choose to exclude ourselves?”  Of course.  Haven’t we, as children, haven’t our own children flung out of the room in anger?  And haven’t we waited for them to come back?  We have not slammed the door in their faces.  We have welcomed them home.  Jesus said, “If you . . . know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!”

— Madeleine L’Engle, The Rock That Is Higher, quoted in Glimpses of Grace, compiled by Carole F. Chase, p. 318