There was a time when I believed that loyalty, peace, and grace could hold anything together. I stood by those values. I prayed through them. I remained steady, even when the ground beneath me shifted.
But after 31 years of marriage, I came face to face with something I didn’t expect: the truth that values alone don’t guarantee survival. Marriage requires more than endurance. It demands consistent honesty, healing, and alignment—from both partners.
And sometimes, no matter how much you invest in it, it still falls apart.
I didn’t always get it right. There are things I could’ve done better, areas I now see more clearly. I’m not here to rewrite the past or delve into every detail. Some of that story belongs to quiet conversations with God. What I will say is this: I’ve learned to tell the truth, not to shame myself, but to grow.
Divorce hurt. Not just the ending, but the unraveling. The slow silence. The trying. The failing. The feeling of letting down the people you love—including yourself.
But here’s what I didn’t see then that I see now: even in failure, God is not finished with you.
Grace Doesn’t Just Cover—It Rebuilds
Healing took time. And it wasn’t a loud process. It came in quiet rooms, tearful prayers, counseling sessions, and honest self-reflection. I had to confront my own inconsistencies, recognize my patterns, and embrace God’s correction.
I stopped trying to justify myself and started learning how to be whole.
I used to pray for the relationship to work. But eventually, I started praying, “Lord, make me better. Whether restoration comes or not, make me whole again.”
And that prayer opened a new door.
The Gift of Growing Love
God, in His mercy, sent someone into my life—not to rescue me, not to replace anyone, but to walk beside the healed version of me. A woman of God with patience, strength, and grace. She didn’t need me to pretend. She just asked me to be present.
And somewhere in the midst of new conversations and quiet understanding, something sacred began to flourish: love with clarity.
Now, I find myself in a season I never anticipated—contemplating remarrying a woman who sees me not as a project, but as a man in the process of becoming. And I love her. Not as a rebound. Not as an escape. But as a testament to what God can do when you stop hiding and start healing.
You Can Still Become
To the man who feels that your failure disqualifies you: it doesn’t.
To the woman who wonders if she’ll ever be seen again for who she truly is: don’t give up.
To the heart that’s still tender, still bruised, still unsure: your best days are ahead of you.
God doesn’t abandon His sons and daughters when life falls apart. He restores. He redirects. He repurposes.
I’m still a man of values.
I’m still learning.
But I’m no longer living in regret—I’m walking in grace.
And for the first time in a long time, I’m learning to love again—with open eyes, a steady heart, and a peace I never thought I’d find.
Related Post
If this resonated with you, I invite you to read Why Preparing for Yourself Matters More Than Praying for Marriage. It’s a reflection on becoming whole before praying for someone to join you. Healing must begin with you—and I’m living proof that when you do the inner work, love becomes a blessing, not a burden.
District Elder & Pastor Harold Robertson, Jr. is a seasoned IT Professional and spiritual leader who bridges technology and faith to drive innovation in schools, churches, and communities. With certifications in ITIL, Google Workspace, AI, and church administration, he empowers organizations to thrive through strategic tech integration and leadership.
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Pastor Harold Robertson, Jr.
District Elder & Pastor Harold Robertson, Jr. is a seasoned IT Professional and spiritual leader who bridges technology and faith to drive innovation in schools, churches, and communities. With certifications in ITIL, Google Workspace, AI, and church administration, he empowers organizations to thrive through strategic tech integration and leadership.
