"Lord," I cried, "you mean you want me to consent to the divorce? That's against your Word.
"I want you to submit to your husband."
When Bob came home, I told him what the Lord had said.
"Can we do this civily?" he asked.
"How could you imagine it would be anything other?" I asked. I am not a confrontational person, and not a fighter. Of course I'd do it "civily."
He continued, "You know, I'm still not sure about this. I'll get the divorce and you go back to Maine. You take half the equity in this house and buy a home for you and the kids. Then I'll settle things here and come back to Maine myself. We can start over again. Begin by dating. And do right everything we did wrong."
A ray of hope. I was too naive to realize he wanted to make sure my parents or friends didn't talk me into contesting him in any way. He didn't want any trouble. And he knew people smarter than I would be talking to me.
I told him, "I will not take part in any way in this divorce. I will not get a lawyer. The only thing I'll do is sign whatever you need me to sign so that you can do what you want."
And that's exactly what we did. He brought me the papers, I signed, and he went off the the Dominican Republic for a 24-hour quicky divorce.
I took the kids and we moved back to Maine. Not to the big house we had all lived in of course, that he had sold. We had half the equity, so we got a very small house. I slept in the cellar so the kids could have the bedrooms.
And we waited.