I’ve never been to court before today.

I’ve never had any reason to go, not even for something as small as a traffic ticket, but this morning a dear friend went back to court to continue the custody battle for her kids. She doesn’t have family here so I wanted to go with her, and after dropping my son off with the babysitter and having to go back to my car twice due to prohibited items in my purse (a water bottle and a protein bar), her and I slipped through the double doors in the back of the room and onto the nearest row of seats.

We were almost an hour early but court can be unpredictable so we didn’t want to risk missing anything. Next to me, a young man with a high and tight haircut sat waiting, combing through a thick stack of papers in his hands. The big black letters on the front of the stack of papers stated two names and the reason for the court case:

Uncontested divorce.

An hour of divorce cases to sit through before my friend’s case would be heard. Delightful. 

Three rows in front of us, a man in his mid twenties wearing a sharp suit sat beside a blonde lady his age. They leaned their heads close together, laughing, whispering. A few other couples dotted the court room but most of the attendees were alone.

The judge called the first name and a middle aged man swore an oath of truth and sat at the witness stand and the judge began her questions.

Please state your name. And Mr. John Doe, are you married? Who are you married to? When did you get married? And did any children come out of this marriage? Are you separated? 

She asked a few more questions and the man fired off rapid answers. After a minute of questioning, she looked at him with a slight smile.

Mr. John Doe, you are now divorced.

After twenty years of marriage and three children with this woman, it was over like that. He stood up, straight faced, and went to sit in the far right seat at the front of the court room, waiting to be handed the papers the clerk was stamping. There was no elation, relief, disbelief–nothing showed on his face. His expression was the same as if he was waiting in line at a drive through.

The judge called up the next case, and the next, and the next. Name after name was called and after the same set of questions, the judge looked looked up with her slight smile and stated, “you are now divorced.” Two, seven, or sixteen years or marriage ended with a simple phrase.

Of course, I don’t know all the details of these divorces. Maybe some spouses were unfaithful or abusive or completely emotionally detached–all serious issues for sure. Then the judge called up the man in the sharp suit and the blonde lady who had been whispering and laughing just moments earlier. They had the same last name and as they were questioned, they looked each other in the eyes and even smiled, and then the moment came where the judge declared them divorced and they went to go sit down next to each other to wait for their papers, no longer whispering or looking each other in the eyes or even sitting close, obviously awkward. Like a switch flipped.

I sat there, trying to imagine it. Obviously, if they were divorced their marriage had major, ostensibly irreconcilable issues, but they still were clearly on fine terms. What would that be like? One moment you’re sitting next to your husband, the man you’ve been one with for half your life, the father of your children, the one you shared a bed and a closet and a kitchen with for nine years, and all of a sudden the man sitting next to you is no longer yours. Maybe it happened slowly over many years, but with a singular phrase, you are now divorced, one flesh was effectively torn in two.

More and more names were called, more marriages ended in an instant. Every face stood up from the witness stand devoid of emotion until the last uncontested divorce case of the day–she cried. Oh, thank goodness someone’s fifteen years of marriage meant enough that the ending brought them to tears.

The whole thing made me sick to my stomach.

In our marriage, divorce is not an option. The D word is a nasty one, and we have never used it in relation to ourselves and never will. Biblically, there are very few cases in which God tells us it is okay to end a marriage, but my husband and I have decided that those cards are off the table–we’re sticking with it, for better or for worse. That doesn’t make us better than someone who divorces on biblical grounds, it’s a decision we made for our marriage. God makes it clear that He hates divorce (Malachi 2:16) and as saved, redeemed believers who are empowered by grace, we know God can make our marriage work. When God is at the center of a marriage it changes everything.

Marriage is hard, people. If you’re married, duh; if you’re not, you think you get this (I thought I did) but you don’t quite, I promise.

Marriage is so beautiful because it’s two imperfect people becoming one flesh and one heart and choosing to love each other unconditionally regardless of all the mess they find when they share a home and children and a sink. If your master bathroom has double vanities, good for you; it could be a marriage saver if you’re like me and don’t like finding stubble in your sink every morning. Thank goodness we no longer have to share.

Two imperfect people overcoming to odds to love each other forever is the perfect love story. That’s what marriage is–two usually selfish, often snappy people overcoming their own opposite desires and selfish natures and opposing dreams to become one until death do us part. 

The ultimate sacrifice, the unparalleled romance–a reflection of the way Christ loves his church.

Watching countless people this morning go before a judge to answer one minute of questions and then have their marriage declared finished made me want to cry. What happened to for better or for worse? What happened to these couples that made them want to walk away from the one they promised to love forever? I don’t know. I’m sure it was serious and I can’t imagine how deep the pain hiding under the surface goes, but they looked so unconcerned. The ending of years of marriage was so flippant it was almost ridiculous.

Friends, the reality is that we live in a world where almost half of marriages will end in divorce or separation. That means statistically, either you or your next door neighbor will end up saying goodbye to your hubby forever somewhere down the road. If that doesn’t uncover the urgency in keeping marriages strong and learning how to communicate and fight constructively and figuring out love languages and making time for date nights if that’s what you need, then I don’t know what will.

Of course a cracked marriage can be fixed, but preventing the cracks before they develop is of the utmost importance.

I’ve been married a little over two years. While at times it feels like we’ve been married forever, I don’t have marriage advice to hand out, certainly not to my friends who have been married for half their lives or 30 or 40 or 50 years.

What I do know is this: two selfish people cannot be reconciled and love each other unconditionally without Jesus. Jesus needs to change hearts and minds and priorities because we can’t do it on our own.

My mom once told me that marriages have seasons. Sometimes we are in the summer season, frolicking on the beach and stealing kisses and snuggling after the kids have gone to bed. Sometimes we are in a winter season–a little cold, a little isolated, and in serious need of a hot fire. While summer will last over a decade for some, my husband and I have experienced both summer and winter seasons in the two plus years since we said I do.

In the winter seasons, just wanting to be done can become normal. We long for summer, for warmth, for the outlook to be just a little brighter. The people I observed behind the witness stand this morning accepted their winter and decided to move on instead of fighting. Certainly, there is more to the story than simply getting up and leaving, but ultimately that is what they decided to do.

Marriage is precious, dear friends. It is exclusive and sacred and permanent, and my heart hurts just thinking about how many marriages I watched officially ending this morning, in a single hour before a scheduled court case.

If you’ve never seen the movie Fireproof, I encourage you to watch it. We love it for date night but if date night is no longer on the table, watch it on your own. You can rent it on iTunes for $2.99 and when my husband and I have struggled it’s the kick in the pants I needed to fight for my marriage. The soundtrack is fabulous and my favorite line from my favorite song (Love Is Not A Fight by Warren Barfield) reads, “If we try to leave [love], may God send angels to guard the door.”

That is my prayer.

If my husband or I ever tries to leave, I pray that God sends angels to guard the door because when we’re not strong enough to fight for our own marriage, God will fight. My husband is a Marine–his thing is fighting, and I know he’ll fight for me.

There is nothing worth fighting for more than your husband, your marriage.

“Love is not a place to come and go as we please. It’s a house we enter in and then commit to never leave. So lock the door behind you, throw away the key. We’ll work it out together, let it bring us to our knees. Love is a shelter in a raging storm. Love is peace in the middle of a war. If we try to leave, may God send angels to guard the door. No, love is not a fight–but it’s something worth fighting for.”
-Warren Barfield