After my divorce, we changed churches. I still felt like every eye could see my story before I said a word.
Everyone knew my kids were from a “broken home.” Everyone knew I was now a single mom.
Most people were kind—so kind, actually— it almost made me more uncomfortable.
It’s strange how grace can feel awkward when you’re on the receiving end.
Awkward Grace
That first year brought a lot of moments like that. We were “adopted” by a community group that helped fix our car. At Christmas, the church delivered gifts for my kids to our doorstep.
Every time, I wanted to say, “Oh no, we’re fine!”—because receiving help made me feel weak, needy, and painfully visible.
But the truth was, we weren’t fine.
We were rebuilding.
We were learning who we were in the newness of it all.
I was still trying to figure out who I was and my kids were trying to figure out what life looked like with two homes, two schedules, and one tired mama holding it all together.
That’s what rebuilding identity really looks like—it’s awkward grace. It’s standing in the middle of kindness you didn’t earn, trying to believe you deserve it.
When God Uses a Pause
Before the divorce, I’d led ministries, taught studies, hosted events—you name it. I was always serving. Always doing, trying to be the giver of grace.
After the divorce, o one asked me to serve. No one invited me to lead. At first, that silence felt like rejection.
But over time, I realized it was actually protection. That season wasn’t punishment—it was rest.
God knew I didn’t need a platform; I needed a pause. I needed time to remember that my identity wasn’t tied to a role, a ministry, or a microphone.
It was tied to Him.
The Gift of Being Still
Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still and know that I am God.”
We often read that like it’s a comfort verse—but it’s also an instruction. Being still isn’t passive. It’s the work of letting go, of learning to sit quietly while God rebuilds you piece by piece.
That’s what the church became for me—a safe space to be still. To breathe. To receive love I couldn’t repay.
And somewhere in that quiet, God began whispering again.
A Simple Step: Receive Without Explaining
If you’re in that same season right now—learning how to accept help without guilt—try this simple step:
Next time someone offers kindness, say “thank you” instead of “you don’t have to.”
Because maybe they do have to. Maybe God sent them to remind you He sees you, He’s got you, and He’s rebuilding you—even through awkward grace.
The Takeaway
Rebuilding identity after divorce isn’t just about discovering who you are again—it’s about rediscovering Whose you are.
That church didn’t define me, but God used it to heal me.
The pause didn’t disqualify me, but God allowed it to restore me.
The quiet didn’t erase my purpose, but it reminded me that my purpose was established by God.
xo ♥️
Kristi
P.S. If divorce has taught one thing, it’s this message: the things you thought would always be – aren’t. Here is your permission to move on from people and places that haven’t helped you heal or modeled God’s loving grace to you or just feel plain awkward now that life is different. Nothing is forever – even church.