Rebuilding Wholeness after Divorce
6-Week Group Coaching Journey for Orthodox & Eastern Catholic Women
I never expected to be divorced.
Even when my first mariage was unraveling, when the cracks had widened into chasms and I was running out of ways to hold it all together, I still clung to an almost irrational hope that things would somehow turn around. That God would turn things around, even if I couldn’t.
Marriage, after all, was sacred. It was a mystery, a sacrament, something I had entered into with the full weight of faith and intention. I had no roadmap for what to do when it became clear that remaining married was no longer an option.
Looking back, it was perhaps a mercy my marriage ended when it did—less than a year into the pandemic, in the thick of a strict provincial lockdown that dragged on for months and months. As torturous as social isolation was for most people, for me it was a kind of shield I needed to process what had happened and grow stronger. I didn’t have to answer a lot of questions in those first, early days. I didn’t have to walk into church alone quite yet, because churches weren’t meeting in the regular way in those days. By the time social life had taken on a bit more normalcy, everyone’s life had changed in some crucial way—children had been born or grown up, weight had been gained (or lost), diagnoses had been rendered, jobs had been lost, spouses or parents had died. We were all rebuilding something after those long pandemic years, it seemed.
Still, I remember shaking as I went to church alone for the first time after my marriage ended. I remember the relationships I lost, many of which I still grieve. I remember the questions, comments, and financial insecurity—many of which I still face today on some level.
Divorce is never just the loss of a relationship. It’s the unreaveling of a life, a story you thought you were living. It’s the loss of time—years, decades—you spent invested in something that may not have been what you thought it was.
It’s also a grief that isn’t only personal, but communal, because in sacramental Christian communities like the Eastern Orthodox Church, marriage isn’t just a transaction, and it’s not something that involves just two people. It’s woven into the fabric of your church, your friendships, your identity… Your concept of God, even, and the way He is present in our lives and in sacraments.
So when a marriage ends, it can feel like you’ve lost more than a spouse—you’ve lost a world and a way of being.
If you’ve read this far, you might have experienced what I’m talking about firsthand.
For many us, the journey after divorce is filled with grief, shame, and loneliness.
It’s filled with spiritual and theological questions we never thought to ask before.
What does it mean to believe in a sacramental marriage when yours has ended?
Where do you fit in the Church when so much of life in the Christian East is built either around families or monasticism, neither category truly reflecting your current life?
How do you navigate forgiveness and healing without minimizing the very real wounds you’ve endured and perhaps continue to endure?
In my own post-divorce journey, I searched for support in all the usual places. Thankfully, I’ve been blessed with a gracious parish community and understanding pastoral support, but I’m one of very few divorced individuals in my church, so it’s hard to share openly with others who have had similar experiences.
There were plenty of programs and resources on divorce recovery, and some good therapists, but most of them didn’t know how to address the unique experience of being a divorced Orthodox woman. They didn’t understand the weight of sacramental marriage, or the particular kind of exile you can feel in a Church that often doesn’t quite know how to minister to divorced women. I also think that, while the Church acknowledges divorce in certain circumstances as a pastoral concession—a grace I’m thankful for every day—we haven’t yet developed a theological imagination or vision for what a full, Christian life can look like in and through and after divorce.
The years have ticked by, and by the grace of God, the healing has trickled in slowly and steadily—with a lot of work, and a lot of patience and compassion from those in my flesh-and-blood life.
In the same years, I’ve grown my skills and practice as a trained trauma-informed coach, working with clients and groups around many kinds of unique losses and traumas, including divorce. These clients have allowed me to see more clearly what I already knew to be true in my experience: it can be seriously hard to meaningfully recover from divorce in the Church. Even in wonderful parishes like my own, it’s hard to find safe and uplifting community around this issue.
So I’m excited to share about the newest group I’m launching, Rebuilding Wholeness after Divorce. Starting May 6, this program is designed specifically for Orthodox and Eastern Catholic women and focuses on the unique challenges of moving forward after the loss of marriage, whatever the circumstances—women who have wlked through the pain of divorce (whether recently or long ago) and are seeking growth within a sacramental worldview.
About Rebuilding after Divorce
The program isn’t about celebrating divorce. It’s also not about rushing you into a new relationship or urging you to “just move on.” Nor is it about replacing lived faith and fellowship, whatever that looks like for you right now. Instead, it’s about giving you a safe space to breathe, process, and heal. It’s about helping you reframe Christian virtues like forgiveness, repentance, and sacrifical love in a way that doesn’t lead back to constant self-blame or spiritual bypassing. It’s about recognizing God is still present in your story, even when that story doesn’t look the way you thought it would.
Each week, we’ll explore a different theme related to rebuilding after divorce. There will be time and space for personal reflection and group discussion. You’ll be surrounded by women who get it—who understand both the heartbreak and the hope, who know what it’s like to feel both deeply faithful and deeply displaced. And you’ll have a compassionate coach who has walked (and is walking) this road herself, who knows what it means to reconstruct a life and a faith from the ground up.
If you’re in that place of wondering what’s next, or if you’re feeling lost, unseen, or uncertain of where you below, I want you to know that you aren’t alone. And your story isn’t over. There is a way forward, and I’d be honoured to walk a few steps of it with you.
» Learn more about the program here.
And if you know of a woman who could use this kind of support, please consider sharing this information with her. None of us should have to walk this road alone.
I'm not divorced, but the man I am married to had been divorced for a few years when we met. My Catholic brother told me, "my church wouldn't recognize your marriage." I was so glad I could look him in the eye and say, "well, mine does."
Great piece. More than a few friends from seminary lost their marriages. Not all were clergy wives (or clergy), but it meant I needed to show up. When my husband remarried one friend, she had some hard questions about the differences in the services. Those softened and expanded how to minister to those rebuilding wholeness after divorce. Married people like us need to learn how to walk better alongside our divorced friends.