That Unexpected Life

Be with you this Sunday morning. I know you guys lost an hour of sleep, so I’m so glad you’re here.

But here’s what we’re going to do. We just had these families come to dedicate their children, and I’m sorry that I did not do this well. We didn’t actually celebrate them properly before they stepped out into the hallway. So can you just cheer loudly so they know we’re celebrating them?

Thank you for acknowledging that. It’s our job to set up our kids to know who Jesus is.

I’m going to pause real quick. This Sunday is going to feel a little bit different. I might feel a little different because I do feel a little different. As we were preparing, we know these messages are usually written months in advance, and then the weeks leading up to them we finish them, tailor them, and shape them.

And as we shaped this one, we just felt something different about it. So you might feel me a little differently this morning. Usually we want to teach a point and make sure you walk away with clear talking points and understandings. But what we’re really going to do today is take a page out of the Scriptures that we’re going to read from Paul.

Paul wrote letters, and in his letters there are all sorts of things he addresses. If you really try to read one straight through, you might think, “Okay, what exactly was he talking about?” Usually it’s four or five things in every single letter.

So this morning, as we continue in this series Redeemed Life, my heart is kind of all over the place. As I’ve been praying for this message and praying for the people who would hear it, I’m reminded that all of us are all over the place in life—in the issues we face and in the things that need to be redeemed and brought before God.

We’ve added a little element today. We’re going to walk through the content together and ask, “What is Paul saying in this letter?” But we’re also going to close with a time of reflection. Our worship leader, Paul, is going to come up in a little bit and lead us in a song of reflection.

So I’m looking forward to this morning. But just bear with me, because what we’re going to talk about can be really heavy for some people. And if it’s not heavy for you, it might be heavy for someone you love or someone you know.

What we’re really going to talk about today is our identity being in Christ.

That’s really what this whole series is about—our identity in Christ throughout the seasons of life. Whether we’re young or old, whether we’re independent or in a covenant relationship, whether we’re married or whether we’ve been through a divorce or the loss of a partner.

And that’s how we’re going to close it out.

The reality is that many of us lose a partner—primarily through divorce—but some of us in our church are widows or widowers. That can feel heavy, and it can feel like it’s not redemptive. But there is beauty in the redemption that God brings to us.

When we talk about redemption, we mean to buy back, to repair or restore, to make better, to remove the obligation of payment. This is the work of Jesus. This is why He went to the cross—to redeem us from our sins and from the weightiness of our lives as we cast our cares on Him.

And I know it can sound strange—“I’m going to cast my cares on Jesus, the perfect one who already died.” But that’s the invitation He gives us: cast your cares on Me.

It doesn’t mean our situation always changes, but the weight and heaviness of it are not ours to bear alone. We are yoked with Christ. He is our Redeemer. We are redeemed by God.

So the shift moves away from our identity being tied to the season of life we’re in, to our life being rooted in Christ. Because seasons change.

You’re in elementary school. Then middle school. Then high school. You go off to college. You’re living in the real world. You get married, or you don’t. You stay single. All sorts of things happen.

It’s really easy for us to start making decisions based on the identity of the season we’re in. But what we’re grounding ourselves in during this series is the need for redemption throughout the various seasons of life. That is God’s desire for us.

So what do we mean when we say this week the unexpected life?

We’ve talked about the young and free life, the independent life, and the covenant life. What do we mean by the unexpected life?

That’s when you’ve lost your partner—primarily through divorce.

Why is it heavy? Why is it important that we don’t just treat it like it’s no big deal?

Because going through a divorce is painful. It’s painful.

Some of us in the room who are divorced have experienced it. Some of you experienced it against your will. Some of you fought for your marriage, but your partner didn’t want to get help, didn’t want counseling, wanted to keep everything private.

You went through the process. You tried to improve communication. You tried to meet them where they were. But it just didn’t happen.

And I want you to know that the pain you experienced—or maybe the pain you’re experiencing as the child of divorce, or as a parent watching your kids go through a divorce—is real.

The pain is not just for the two people breaking a covenant. The pain spreads through everyone connected to those people.

And it’s beyond just a bad breakup.

This isn’t the same feeling you had when you were 16 and broke up after three months. It’s not the same.

Our flesh may react similarly at first: we feel loss, we listen to sad music, we talk to our friends who tell us why it was probably a good thing anyway.

But it’s different.

A divorce isn’t just a breakup. It’s not just dividing up assets—though that’s part of it.

Divorce is a soul issue.

It impacts our soul because we’ve done the work under the banner of heaven to go from two independent people to one—to become one.

Scripture says the man and woman leave their families to “leave and cleave.” They leave the identities of their family of origin to create a new family.

Yes, if you are a mother-in-law, your son should not be more attached to you than to his partner.

“Well, in my culture…”

I don’t care about your culture. Scripture says leave your mama.

Now listen—I’m a mama’s boy. My mom calls me every morning at 7:30 a.m. and expects me to answer. I’m almost 50 now.

My mom has gotten better though. She’ll say, “Oh my gosh, I know you can’t answer right now.” And then she still calls.

“I know you’re going into a meeting, but I just wanted to talk for thirty minutes…”

Mom, I love you. Keep calling me—but I can’t always answer.

Because my mom knows that I have new priorities in my life.

Some of you are like, “Oh no…”

Yes.

That new priority exists because Scripture calls us to leave and cleave.

So when we form this new bond and become one, the breaking of that bond is not just a breakup—it’s a soul issue.

That’s why it’s so heavy.

And the consequences can be tragic.

Some of us may even be in relationships right now where we’re already living like we’re divorced—physically, emotionally, or financially. And that’s sad, because it doesn’t have to be that way.

When Christ is at the center and we serve one another, there is beauty that comes from that.

But in our brokenness we put ourselves at the center.

Some families even put their kids at the center.

Now some of you want to get up and walk out right now.

But hear me when I say this: your kids are not the priority of your marriage.

Your kids are not the priority of your marriage.

I know that sounds harsh. Maybe we say that because we weren’t prioritized in our parents’ marriages, so the pendulum swings the other way.

But some of you spend more time and energy pouring into your kids and their lives than you do into the person you are in covenant with.

You’ve got about thirty more minutes of this.

Yes.

Because this is what Paul does in his letters. He writes to people he cares about and says there’s a better way.

There’s a better way when we follow Jesus.

But if you are going through a divorce, or you’re in the wake of one, or someone you love is going through one—I prayed with several people this week who are carrying the weight of divorce in their families even though they themselves aren’t the ones divorcing.

It’s a sister. A brother. A parent.

It’s painful.

But if you’re looking for hope, you’re in the right place.

Because the reality is God can heal us. God is with us. But we have to be connected to God’s heart for us and live in the reality of what we’re facing.

Before we go any further, I want us to connect with the heart of God.

Take a deep breath. Inhale slowly. Now let it out.

Listen to these words about the character of God.

The Psalmist says:
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

Isaiah says:
“Do not fear, for I am with you. Do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

Psalm 147 says:
“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”

And then in 2 Corinthians:
“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles.”

This is the character of God.

Remember something about Scripture. These books were written over about 2,000 years by around 40 different authors, across three continents and in three languages. And yet there is a unity and continuity in it.

Scripture contains poetry, prophecy, history, literature—and also letters.

We call them epistles.

They are letters written by people to communities they care deeply about.

And often those letters are written with heavy hearts, because the community is going through things. They need to be realigned to the heart of God and to the better way of following Jesus.

That’s what this feels like today.

As we read this letter, some of us might feel triggered, because some of these passages have been taken out of context and weaponized.

I want you to know we are not weaponizing these passages.

We are called to a life of redemption in Christ.

Our heart is not to accuse. Our heart is like Paul’s—we care.

We love.

So let’s walk in the truth of what it means to follow Jesus.

Because God is for you.

But Scripture also tells us that God desires for us to do the work.

And I want to put it this way:

Proactive pursuit of Christ is more important than the pain of our passions.

Following Christ. Putting Jesus at the center.

That proactive pursuit of life in Christ overrides the pain of our passions.

How many of us have self-inflicted wounds because of our passions or desires?

If we had done the proactive work, it might have overridden those passions.

And this is the context Paul is writing into.

In his community, people are talking over each other during gatherings. Some people are getting drunk on communion wine. Others are bragging about their sexual exploits.

Paul is basically saying, “Wait… what are we doing here?”

So he writes a letter to people he loves.

Because community means we are inclusive of others but also willing to have hard conversations and speak the truth.

And so Paul says to the unmarried and the widows: it is good to stay unmarried as he does. But if they cannot control themselves, they should marry, for it is better to marry than to burn with passion.

He’s saying: have some self-control.

And that’s hard in an over-sexualized culture like ours.

But self-control is something every one of us struggles with in one area of life or another.

For me? Girl Scout cookies.

Those Thin Mints? Especially when you put them in the fridge.

Then my kids want to tempt me—“Dad, let’s put them in vanilla ice cream!”

Get behind me, Satan.

Self-control is a struggle for all of us.

But Paul says there’s a better way.

And eventually he talks about marriage, about divorce, about staying, about reconciliation, about abuse, about healing, about hope.

And ultimately he reminds us:

If marriage is not our primary identity, then neither is divorce.

Our identity is in Christ.

And as we close, I want to read something I wrote to remind us of that truth.

For most of us, the word divorce carries weight. It carries memories, regrets, questions—maybe even shame or fear.

Whenever this topic comes up in church, there is often a quiet question in the heart:
Is there still a place for me in God’s story after divorce?

The gospel answer is a resounding yes.

Because the message of the gospel is not that God only works with people whose lives stayed neat and intact.

The message of the gospel is that God continually redeems broken stories.

The Bible is not filled with perfect families. It is filled with fractured ones.

Abraham’s family had deep conflict.
David’s family life was marked by tragedy.
The woman at the well had been married five times when she met Jesus.

And in every one of those stories, God moved toward people—not away from them.

The center of our faith is a Savior who entered our brokenness.

On the cross, Jesus experienced rejection, abandonment, and the fracture of relationship as He cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Why would He go through that?

So that no one who comes to Him would ever be truly forsaken again.

Which means this:

If you belong to Jesus, the defining truth about your life is not divorce.
It’s not your past.
It’s not your worst moment.
It’s not the chapter of life you wish had gone differently.

The defining truth about your life is this:

You are being redeemed.

Redeemed means your story is not over.
Redeemed means God is still writing chapters you cannot yet see.
Redeemed means even the places that feel like ashes can become the places where God grows something new.

Isaiah says God gives beauty for ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning.

Only God can do that.

So if you’re here today carrying the wounds of divorce, hear this clearly:

You are not disqualified from God’s love.
You are not disqualified from God’s family.
You are not disqualified from God’s purpose for your life.

The kingdom of God has always been filled with people whose lives did not go the way they expected.

They lived the unexpected life.

And yet God met them there.

The unexpected life can still become a redeemed life.

So wherever you find yourself today—married, single, separated, divorced, hopeful, or hurting—remember this:

God is close to the brokenhearted.
He binds up wounds.

And the same God who raised Jesus from the dead is still bringing resurrection into places that once felt like endings.

Because our God is a God who restores.

And His grace is always greater than our past.