Renew Your Mind with Biblical Truth After Trauma & Divorce

A Story of Healing, Redemption, and God’s Faithfulness

I never thought I’d be here—writing about healing and redemption after trauma and divorce. If you had told me seventeen years ago that one day, I’d look back on that season when I felt so broken and see God’s redemption and faithfulness woven through every moment, I’m not sure I would have believed you.

Because at the time, my heart—and every dream I had about being a wife and mother—felt shattered into a million pieces. The loss was suffocating, the pain unbearable, the weight of it all too heavy to carry. But I tried anyway, holding it together the best I could, even as everything around me felt like it was falling apart.

And it wasn’t just the loss of a marriage—it was trauma that had shaken our family to its core. I wasn’t just picking up the pieces of my own life; I was carrying the crushing responsibility of making sure my girls would be okay, too. The guilt, the shame, the grief—it was all so much to bear, pressing down on me like a weight I wasn’t sure I could carry. But I had no choice. I had to try.

I remember nights when the house felt too quiet, the weight of my own thoughts pressing down on me. I remember watching my daughters sleep, wondering if I had failed them. All I ever wanted in life was to be a mom. Here I was, a mother to two, feeling selfish for bringing them into the world where divorce and so much pain existed. And I remember the slow ache of moving forward, knowing that life as I had pictured it was gone.

But I also remember something else.

I remember the shift—small at first, barely noticeable. The moments when grief wasn’t the only thing I felt. When hope started to creep back in, not in some grand, miraculous way, but in the tiny things. A conversation that reminded me I wasn’t alone. A verse that seemed to be written just for me. A deep breath that, for the first time in a long time, didn’t feel heavy.

Looking back now, I see the process. How God gently took my shattered heart and slowly, piece by piece, put it back together. Not into what it was before—but into something new. Something stronger. Something redeemed.

If you’re in that place—the heavy, breathless, wondering-if-you’ll-ever-be-okay place—I want you to know this: there is a way forward. Not by ignoring the pain or pretending it doesn’t exist, but by surrendering and allowing God to do what He does best—make beauty from ashes.

Here’s what that journey looked like for me.

Recognizing the Lies and Replacing Them with Truth

For the longest time, I believed the enemy’s lies without even realizing it. The thoughts crept in so subtly, they felt like my own voice:

“This is your fault.”
“You’re too broken to heal.”
“You’ve ruined your children’s lives.”

Those thoughts weren’t just painful—they shaped how I saw myself. They kept me stuck in shame and regret, making it nearly impossible to move forward.

But God’s truth tells a different story.

I remember the first time I read 2 Corinthians 10:5 with fresh eyes—how we are called to take every thought captive and make it obedient to Christ. It hit me: I didn’t have to accept every thought that entered my mind. I could challenge them. I could replace them.

So, I started speaking truth over myself, even when I didn’t feel it yet:

“I am not abandoned. God is near to the brokenhearted.” (Psalm 34:18)
“I am not too far gone. God is making all things new.” (Revelation 21:5)
“I have not ruined my future or my children’s future. God has a plan for us.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

And little by little, those truths took root.

Understanding Grief—Learning to Name What We Feel

For years, I labeled my emotions with surface-level names—frustration, stress, anxiety. It was easier to call it those things instead of what I was really feeling. It felt more manageable. But the truth was, beneath the frustration, stress, and anxiety was something so much deeper.

I began to notice that when I was feeling angry, resentful, cynical, bitter, or even jealous, I would call it “frustration”. When I was feeling afraid, helpless, or hopeless, I would call it anxiety. And when I was feeling overwhelmed, sad, or even depressed, I would say I was stressed.

But it was grief. Because grief isn’t always obvious, we misname it. We slap a bandaid label on it—stress, exhaustion, overwhelm—without realizing that what we’re actually experiencing is loss, and with loss comes an array of real emotions that need to be felt before we can release them.

Grief isn’t just about death. It’s about losing the life you thought you’d have, the person you thought you’d be, the family you dreamed of, or the security you once knew. It’s about:

• What we got and didn’t deserve (abuse, chaos, betrayal).
• What we deserved and didn’t get (a loving marriage, love, praise, support).
• What never was (lost opportunities, what we thought our marriage would be but wasn’t, what we thought our children’s lives would look like but don’t).
• What is not now (our current reality, the hardships we never saw coming).
• What will never be (the imagined futures that no longer exist).

And if we don’t allow ourselves to feel the emotions that come with loss, they don’t go away. They get buried. They fester. They find other ways to surface—snapping at our kids over small things, withdrawing from relationships, feeling resentment toward people who seem to have the life we lost.

For example, if we constantly feel angry at our children, we might tell ourselves we’re just frustrated. But what if that anger is actually fear—fear that they won’t grow into functional adults, that we’ve failed them somehow? Or maybe it’s shame – shame that we brought them into a marriage that had red flags that we ignored hoping for a miraculous change. Or what if that fear is actually grief—grieving the parenting partner we thought we’d have, grieving the way we imagined raising our children would look like?

When we avoid feeling our emotions, they don’t just disappear. They get stored in our bodies. Studies show that suppressed emotions can contribute to trauma responses, chronic stress, autoimmune issues, and even cancer. (The Body Keeps the Score).

But here’s the good news: Emotions are temporary. Science tells us that if we allow ourselves to sit with an uncomfortable feeling for just 90 seconds, it will peak and then begin to pass. Ninety seconds. Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor, a neuroscientist from Harvard University, explains that when we react to something in our environment, a 90-second chemical process occurs in our bodies. After this time, any remaining emotional response is a choice to stay in that emotional cycle.

So, instead of pushing it down, what if we just let it be? What if we acknowledged our emotions? “Right now, I feel grief. I feel afraid. Or I feel helpless.” Then, we just feel it and let it pass. Ninety seconds. Next, we choose to let it go – instead of letting it control us.

Naming our emotions correctly is the first step toward healing. Because if we don’t name them, we can’t heal them.

And healing? That’s what God desires for us.

If you aren’t sure what you’re feeling, you can get an emotions wheel from Google to help you.

Choosing My Words Carefully—Especially About Myself

For years, I spoke things over my life that only reinforced the pain.

“I’ll never feel whole again.”
“I’m just getting by.”
“This is just the way things are now.”

I didn’t realize that my own words were keeping me stuck. Proverbs 18:21 says, “The tongue has the power of life and death.” I had been speaking death over my own future without even realizing it.

So, I started changing my language.

• Instead of “I’m barely surviving,” I said, “God is sustaining me.”
• Instead of “I’ll never trust again,” I said, “God is restoring my heart.”
• Instead of “This is just my lot in life,” I said, “God is writing a new story.”

At first, it felt forced. But over time, it changed how I saw my circumstances. Speaking life wasn’t just about words—it was about faith.

Leaning Into Community, Even When It Was Hard

There were times when I wanted to withdraw. To retreat into my own world because it felt easier than explaining my pain to someone else. But isolation only deepened the wound.

Healing happens in community. God designed it that way. Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 says, “Two are better than one… If either of them falls, one can help the other up.”

Letting people in was uncomfortable at first. But it was necessary.

Trusting That Redemption is Real

This is the part I couldn’t see in the beginning. The part where God takes what was meant for harm and uses it for good. The part where broken things don’t just get fixed—they get transformed.

Today, my daughters are 23 and 18. We’ve been through some pretty hard years. Years when I wasn’t sure if we’d make it. And yet, here we are—more than okay. We’re strong. We laugh. We have joy. And we have a story of God’s redemption that I wouldn’t trade for anything.

Forgiveness—The Key to Freedom

One of the hardest parts of healing is taking an honest look at the role you played in your own suffering.

That’s not to say everything was your fault—far from it. But bitterness keeps us stuck. And the only way forward is forgiveness.

Who do you need to forgive?

• Your ex—for what he did, or for what he didn’t do.
• Yourself—for the ways you think you failed.
• God—for what you thought He would do but didn’t (and repenting for the anger and resentment you’ve held).

Unforgiveness doesn’t just weigh us down—it blocks us spiritually. It hinders our growth, our prayers, and our healing.

Mark 11:25 says, “And whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone, so that your Father also who is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses.”

Forgiveness isn’t about letting someone off the hook. It’s about setting yourself free.

If you’re still in the middle of the storm, wondering if healing is even possible, let me be the one to tell you—it is.

Not overnight. Not without pain. But slowly, steadily, as you allow God to renew your mind and remind you of who you are.

Your story isn’t over. God is still writing.

If you need help overcoming negative thoughts, worry, and overthinking as you renew your mind, I’ve created a free resource for you. It’s a step-by-step guide to help you take control of your thoughts and walk in the peace God has for you.

You can download it here: Renew Your Mind

About Amy

Amy Wadlington is a Christian life coach helping women who feel stuck break free from overwhelm and step into their God-given calling without adding more stress.