I did not wake up this morning planning to sell my car, because I had taken five hours off from work because of a toothache and a dentist appointment, and although I already knew this would be my last month with the car, I planned to keep it until the end of the month so I could use every day I had already paid for.
I had already decided that I needed to sell the car, not because I did not like it anymore, but because I could no longer afford to keep the payment. I am living on one income, and my income was not enough to cover all of my household expenses and continue carrying a car loan. That is where my brother stepped in. He gave me a car that was completely paid off so that I could get out of my car loan, and I am deeply grateful to him for that. He did not just give me another car to drive; he gave me a way to remove a monthly payment that had become too much for me while still having the transportation I needed.
Still, I was not planning to sell my car today. I had already made this month’s payment, so I kept telling myself that I might as well drive it until the end of the month and use the remaining days I had already paid for. But then I thought that keeping it for those extra days would also mean putting more gas in it and adding more miles, which would reduce what I could get for it, while the paid-off car my brother gave me would still be sitting there. At that point, keeping the car just because I had already paid for the month did not really make sense, because I would be spending more money just to hold on to it a little longer.
So today, after taking time off from work and taking care of my appointment, I decided to just drive to the dealership and do it. I knew I was making the right decision, but when I sat there and realized that I would not be driving my car home again, I started to feel sad. I looked at the car and thought, I am really going to miss it. And then I cried.
After I cried, I felt guilty because I thought, Why am I crying over a car? It is only a material thing. As a Christian, I do not want to become too attached to material things, because I know that the things we own should not control us or take a place in our hearts that belongs to God. I also felt guilty because my brother had done something so generous for me, and I wondered why I was crying over the car I was giving up instead of simply being happy about the car he had given me.
But the truth is that I was grateful. I was deeply grateful. My sadness about one thing did not take away from my gratitude for the other. As I sat there, I started to understand that maybe crying did not mean that I was too attached to the car or that I was not thankful for what my brother had done. Maybe I was simply sad because I liked my car and because saying goodbye to something can hurt even when we know letting it go is the right thing to do.
That thought took my mind somewhere much deeper. I thought about divorce.
I am not comparing a marriage to a car, because a marriage involves love, family, years of memories, promises, hopes, dreams, pain, and so much more. But what happened today reminded me of something I have learned through divorce: knowing that it is time to let go does not mean our heart immediately catches up with what our mind already knows. Sometimes we know why something has to end, and we may even see the way forward, but we still grieve what we are leaving behind.
I know that feeling. After divorce, I sometimes felt guilty when I missed certain parts of the life I had before. I wondered if missing those things meant I had not moved forward, or if remembering something good meant I was forgetting why the marriage ended. But I have learned that healing does not require me to pretend that everything was bad.
I can remember the family we once had, the traditions, the small things we did together, the conversations, the memories, the plans we made, and even the good things about the person I was married to while also being honest about the pain and the reasons the marriage ended. Missing part of what was does not mean I need to go back to it. Sometimes it simply means that it mattered.
There was another part of selling my car today that made me think about divorce. I had already paid for the month, and because I had already paid, I felt that I needed to keep the car until the very last day. Even after I realized that keeping it would mean spending more money on gas, there was still something in me saying, But I already paid for it.
And I realized how easy it is to think the same way when we have invested much more than money. When you have already given years of your life to a marriage, when you have prayed, forgiven, waited, tried again, hoped again, cried, made sacrifices, and kept believing that things could become better, it can be very hard to let go because you do not want everything you already gave to feel wasted. You can begin to think, I have already put so much into this. How can I stop now?
But what I have already given does not always mean I need to keep giving. Keeping my car for another week would not give me back the payment I had already made. It would only require me to put more money into something I had already decided to release. In a much deeper way, divorce taught me something similar. The years, prayers, tears, forgiveness, love, and effort I had already given were real, but continuing only because I had already given so much would not make those years more valuable.
Letting go does not erase what I gave. It does not mean everything was wasted. Those years were part of my life. The lessons still matter. The growth still matters. The good memories are still good memories, and the children who came from that marriage are still precious gifts from God.
Today, there was nothing forcing me to sell my car. I could have waited until the end of the month just as I had planned, but once I realized that I would only be spending more money to keep something I had already decided to release, I knew I did not need to wait. I was ready. Sometimes we spend a long time thinking about something, worrying about it, praying about it, and preparing ourselves for it, and then one ordinary day we realize that we do not need another week, another month, or another reason. It is simply time.
But perhaps the part of this story that means the most to me is that before I was completely ready to let go of what I had, my brother had already given me a way forward. I already had another car. It was paid off. I would still be able to go to work, take care of my children, run my errands, and do the things I needed to do. I was not being left without a way forward. My brother had made sure of that.
There is something about that which feels much bigger to me than a car. Sometimes we are looking at what we have to let go of while God is already providing what we need for the next part of our life. That does not mean what comes next will look like what we had before, and it does not mean we will immediately stop grieving what we lost. It simply means that the end of one thing does not mean there is nothing waiting for us on the other side.
I think about that when I think about divorce too. There were times when I was so focused on everything that was ending that I could not yet see what life would look like afterward. I did not know exactly how everything would work, and I did not know how I would feel once I was on the other side of it. But little by little, there was a way forward.
Today, my brother’s gift is a very real reminder of that for me. He gave me a way forward before I was completely ready to let go of what I had before. I see his kindness as part of God’s provision for me, and I am deeply grateful, because he helped remove a financial burden from my life at a time when I truly needed that help.
And somehow, that makes me understand my tears a little differently. I can cry about what I am leaving and still be thankful for what is ahead. I can appreciate what I had without needing to keep it. I can receive what God has provided without pretending that moving forward never hurts. And I can be deeply grateful to the person who helped make that next step possible.
Sometimes God gives us a way forward before our heart is completely ready to take it. Maybe part of letting go is trusting Him enough to take it anyway.