Divorce is a gift, too.

Have you ever heard a more perfect description of divorce than “A box full of darkness…”

This descriptive phrase comes from the poem The Uses of Sorrow by Mary Oliver.  Here it is in full—

(In my sleep I dreamed this poem)

Someone I loved once gave me
a box full of darkness.

It took me years to understand
that this, too, was a gift.

It doesn’t matter whether you were the one given the box of darkness, or you were the one giving the box to another;  for a person who deeply values the covenant of marriage, it is a hard box to accept, and an equally hard box to give.  For this person, only pain greater than divorce would have them pick up the box to begin with. However it came about, the gift was given, the paper wrapping removed, and the darkness emerged, swallowing the light… for a time.

As the darkness settles like a thick cloak, the passing of time seems polyrhythmic, burdened by the heavy, slow business of divorce and rushing toward an unknown future. Hard mornings, followed by hard days, followed by hard nights was the song carried along by the winds of process. Will the darkness never lift?

Ever so gently and softly, pin holes of light began pushing through the darkness. Eyes began adjusting to the contrast as bright points of beauty, hope, and love pierced more strikingly and clearly through the darkness than ever before. And so the gift was revealed. In brightness, the light shining from precious gifts does not create a shocking impact. Shining through darkness the light reveals its true glory.