COURAGE, BRAVEHEART

This week*, I sat in a court room with my family, while my older sister held my hand tightly. We sat and listened to eight other couples go through the process I was about to walk through myself. Before I knew it, it was my turn to take the stand. I held up my right hand and promised to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God. Once on the stand, the first thing they asked me was to state my full name.

“Stefanie Butler Smith.”

This was followed by a series of five other questions, all which my attorney had prompted me I would answer yes to. This was it. The moment. It had been a little over twenty months since I had separated from my husband and today was the day our divorce would be finalized.

The D word. Divorce. Something I never anticipated would be a part of my story.

Surely this wasn’t my life. It couldn’t be. And yet it was. Here I was, 34 years old, having just had my 10 year anniversary a few days prior, and now I was sitting in a court room, answering questions to end my marriage. It was a surreal thing, sitting in that room. It was as if I was watching my life in a movie. Except this wasn’t a movie. This was real life and the end of this very long and painful chapter would be over in less than an hour.

The past few weeks were challenging to say the least. Let me give you a timeline, so you know what we were working with.

• December 6th-12th I was in New York City with my family celebrating a close friends wedding.
• December 13th was mine and Steve’s 10 year anniversary, and instead of celebrating in Italy like we thought we’d be doing, I instead went to an Italian dinner with my parents and my sister’s boyfriend, while my sister had to work. Belissima!
• December 14th-16th my parents helped me pack up my apartment in Nashville and put everything in a storage unit.
• December 16th my dear friend Christyn, who was one of my bridesmaids in my wedding, drove up 4 1/2 hours from Atlanta to stand beside me in court the following day. She told me, “I figured if I stood by you when you married him, I should stand by you when you divorce him.” Shortly after it all ended, she drove the 4 1/2 hours back to Atlanta. She was there less than 18 hours total.
• December 17th was my court date. The date my divorce would be finalized. My parents, my sister Abbi, and my two childhood friends, Christyn and Julie sat by my side.
• December 19th my parents would head home to Arizona and a few short days later…on December 22nd, I would follow them, as I was moving there for the next few months while I worked, wrote, saved money and figured out what was next.

So as you can imagine, between the 10 year anniversary, packing up my life and moving and getting divorced, it was a difficult couple of weeks. One of those things by itself would be hard enough on someone, but all three at once. Stop it.

I remember getting ready to go to court that morning. I set my alarm and woke up early, before everyone else. This was ironically the same thing I did on my wedding day. It was quiet. I was along with the still of the morning. I scurried into the bathroom by myself, my “war room” or “prayer room,” as I like to call it. I shut myself in there and I prayed and listened to praise music. That was how I was going to start this day. With praise.

Praise that I made it this far. Praise that I was still walking, and breathing, and moving forwards. Praise that I knew the Lord was with me – that I wasn’t going into this thing alone today. I knew that He was walking before me and behind me, both leading me and pushing me forward. Praise that He is good and trustworthy. That He does not lead us places and then abandon us in those places. Praise that His words and promises are never empty or and never broken. And even with the chaos of my life around me, the falling apart, the undoing. Even in the midst of all of that, I had this insane calm. This peace that passes all understanding. I have felt this a few other times in my life. Mostly in times of crisis, where an insane calm comes over me and I get very focused. This was one of those moments.

The day before court, it was a Sunday and in the morning I went to church and went over to the prophetic ministry that I had been going to for the past 2 years. Walking in there, they know nothing about you, except your name. And this was the word they gave me.

“I hear…I know this is from the Lord, because I don’t really know this song. I hear the Lord saying this is my fight song, take back my life song. I feel like there’s been a season where you feel like you’ve been fighting for everything and I feel like the Lord is saying, ‘Take courage. Take courage. Take courage and stand firm.’ Because it’s almost like you’re pushing back the darkness to take back everything the enemy has stolen and I feel like the Lord wants you to know, you’ve already won. That you can actually stand firm and stand victorious because there is no place in your life that you have ever been defeated. There’s no defeat written in your story. And so the places where you feel like you’re walking in lack, that’s actually the lie and He says the truth is, that this life is gonna be a beautiful life and this is your one life and you’re gonna live it. It’s for you and He hasn’t given up on you. It’s not over yet. Get ready. Present your hope on a plate for the Lord and He will reignite it. The Lord wants to give you vision to allow your hope to arise. Take courage, take courage. Be courageous. Make your roar be heard because you do have a roar and it’s hiding but it’s time to roar.”

Mic drop. I. Was. Blown. Away.

And obviously started bawling. “This is my fight song, take back my life song!?” That’s exactly what I was doing! I was going into battle and I had already had victory spoken over me. Thank you Jesus!!

I think that’s why, on the day of, there was an enormous amount of peace. Between the prophetic word, my friends and family being there, and the literal hundred people who were praying for me, the spirit of peace rested on me and I walked into that court room feeling covered, but with my head lifted high in gratitude to the Lord and His graciousness and kindness towards me.

So, back to court. When the judge arrived, we all rose and stood there listening to his instructions as court was finally in session. I was a little fidgety because my attorney, who had warned me she was always late and who had agreed to show up half and hour ahead of time to be sure we weren’t late, was still not there. Freaking lawyers. Anyway, as I was looking at the door, thinking this was not a great way to start the day, they called my name.

“Stefanie Butler Smith.”

I rose and spoke, “My attorney is not yet present.”

The judge said that wasn’t a problem and that attorney’s had to be a lot of places at once and that when she arrived, we would address my case. I smiled, nodded, and returned to my seat. About 3 minutes later, my attorney showed up. She couldn’t believe they had already called my name, as we were, supposedly, a last addition to todays schedule. She apologized and then we sat there and watched every other couple go through the process.

It’s a strange thing to watch other people get divorced. Some seemed totally friendly with one another. One couple couldn’t keep their hands off each other in the lobby and then got divorced in the room and walked out talking to each other as if they were the best of friends. Very strange. And then there was the couple who was crying throughout the process. I remember watching this one guy – he had neck tattoos and hand tattoos and was sitting by himself, just sobbing as he stared at his wife, who was on the stand. I didn’t know their story, but I really felt for him.

And one by one, people left the room. Then, they finally called my name again. And can I just say, I believe this was a blessing in disguise. The fact that my name was called to be first, and my attorney wasn’t there, meant that I would go last. And what a blessing, because the only people in the room, other than the Judge, the courtroom staff, my attorney and me, was my family and friends. No strangers there to witness what I was about to go through. Just my people. My tribe. I felt like this was the Lord saying,

“These are your people and we’re all here, in this thing together. They are the ones who know your story, who have walked this journey with you, who know your character and your heart, and they are your witnesses. No one else matters, therefore no one else needs to be present.”

Now whether you agree with that or not, I felt a kindness from the Lord in my spirit for allowing things to happen the way they did. And for that I was truly thankful. I was also thankful that the judge was as kind as he was. The Honorable Phillip Robinson. I had heard that he was a tough a** and was a little intimidating. But all I remember is that he was so kind. He looked at me and said,

“No one is going to take better care of you than you. So you be sure to look out for yourself and take care of yourself. Make sure to follow-up with your ex-spouse to get what is owed to you alimony-wise, because it is yours and you deserve it. And he’s probably not going to be on top of it. So you need to be.”

Or at least something along those lines. I nodded and thanked him. And before I knew it, it was all over. Done. I was divorced.

We walked out of the courtroom and my attorney said congratulations and asked us if we were going to celebrate. It was a strange way to think about this whole scenario – as a celebration. But I imagine it is for a lot of people, and in some ways, I guess it kind of was. A celebration of the next chapter. Of moving on. Or not continuing with that which had been so painful. I told her we were going to brunch and that if she wasn’t working, she was welcome to join us. She said thanks, but declined – she had more work to do.

So, we all piled in cars and went to brunch, complete with friend chicken and waffles, blood orange mimosas and bloody mary’s. It felt like a strange breakfast. Uncomfortable, really. No one tells you how you are supposed to act in these situations. What to say. Whether or not you should laugh or cry. There was this sense of relief I felt, but I also remember feeling like everyone at the table, myself included, was exhausted. Like no one had slept in a year and everyone needed a good long nap. I  knew I certainly did.

So that’s just what we did. We finished our meal, made our way back to the rental and I closed myself in my room and just slept. And I didn’t care if I woke up for a century. Fine by me. But really, we were having dinner that night, so the century ended up being maybe a 2 hour nap. But I was thankful for it, none-the-less. And I slept hard. I don’t think I had slept that hard in years.

And at the end of it all, I cried. Because it was sad. Because it was hard. Because it was heartbreaking. Because it was over. But over it was. And at the end of everything, the Lord is faithful. So I rest in that. And rest I will.

I cling to these scriptures when I feel weary.

*I wrote this in December but just got around to publishing it this week.