I Have an Identity.
Tell me,
when did a marriage certificate
become a woman’s birth certificate?
When did becoming a wife
become the beginning of her life?
And when did divorce papers
become proof
that her life had ended?
Make it make sense.
Do not tell me
that my life begins
when a man chooses me,
or ends when he walks away.
Do not measure my worth
by the ring on my hand,
the peace within my home,
or the name beside mine.
I was a woman
before I became a wife.
I was God’s daughter
before anyone called me his.
I have an identity.
There was a time
when I carried another person’s choices
as though they were stains
upon my own character.
If he wandered,
I questioned my beauty.
If he broke his promises,
I questioned my worth.
If he chose another path,
I wondered
what was missing in me.
But separation taught me
what marriage never could:
Another person’s choices
cannot rewrite my character.
What he does
belongs to his conscience.
What I become
belongs to mine.
I have an identity.
I did my part.
I spoke the truth,
offered counsel,
prayed,
loved,
and gave what I understood
a wife should give.
But a wife is not a judge.
Marriage is not a courtroom
where she must spend her life
presenting evidence
against the person
she once promised to love.
His choices belong to him.
His choices were never mine
to begin with.
His final answer
will be given to God,
not to me.
I will not lose my peace
trying to supervise
another person’s soul.
I have children to guide,
a calling to answer,
a life to live,
and a self
I have finally learned to know.
I have an identity.
Not one created by marriage.
Not one bestowed upon me
by a man.
My identity is rooted
solely in God.
I will not teach my children
to hate their earthly father.
I will teach them
to know their heavenly Father.
I will tell them about the One
who never abandons,
never deceives,
and never forgets
the children He created.
I will sit beside them
through their homework.
I will listen
to the questions in their hearts.
I will plant the truth
of Christ within them
and trust God
to bring the harvest.
They say divorce is freedom.
They say remarriage
is a new beginning.
But how can a document
give me a freedom
I have already found in Christ?
How can another relationship
restore a worth
I never truly lost?
Make it make sense.
I do not need
another person’s arms
to prove that I am wanted.
I do not need
another marriage
to prove that I am whole.
My body is not
an abandoned house
waiting for a new owner.
It is a temple.
It is dignified.
It belongs first
to the God who formed it.
I do not have to erase him
to rediscover myself.
I do not have to replace him
to continue living.
I can choose distance
without hatred,
boundaries without bitterness,
and peace without surrendering
what I believe.
I can live apart
without living outside
my conviction.
To me,
neither divorce nor remarriage
can erase the sacred weight
of a covenant
while the one I married
is still alive.
Court papers may change
our addresses,
our schedules,
and the moments
when we meet.
But they cannot make
two parents
complete strangers.
There will still be school gates.
There will still be birthdays.
There will still be
small hands carrying
two histories
into the same room.
There may even be softer days
when a familiar voice
awakens a memory
we thought had gone to sleep.
So tell me,
what exactly
did the papers erase?
Make it make sense.
Separation gave me distance,
but Christ gave me identity.
I no longer tremble
before another person’s choices.
I no longer search within myself
for the reason
someone else went astray.
Marriage did not create me.
Divorce cannot erase me.
I have an identity.
Know yourself
before someone calls you wife.
Know the God who named you
before someone gives you
another name.
Marriage may become
part of your story,
but it was never meant
to become the author
of your existence.
I was His
before I was his.
And whatever happens
between two human hearts,
my identity begins,
remains,
and ends
in Christ.
🙏
Foot note:
In the words of Joyce Meyer, “Love is not a feeling. Love is a decision, and that decision is renewed each day.”
We are human, and our emotions can shift because of something as ordinary as a crying baby, an unanswered phone, a flat tire, an unpleasant smell, or another person’s imperfections.
But temporary feelings do not have the authority to govern how we treat someone we have decided to love for better or for worse.
My decision not to divorce or remarry was not born from passing emotions or the private circumstances of my home. It was a conviction I held before marriage, rooted in God’s Word.
Christianity is not a feel good faith. Marriage may encounter hardship and spiritual warfare, but husband and wife are called to pray, seek godly counsel, and stand in the gap for one another.
“Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.” Mark 10:9; see also Mark 10:2–12.
“When you make a vow to God, do not delay to fulfill it.” Ecclesiastes 5:4–5; see also Numbers 30:2 and Ephesians 5:25, 33.
By Joan A.Roberts
http://www.divineaccolades.com
