by Charleen Burghardt
“You look familiar. Don’t I know you from somewhere?” I asked.
He retorted without a blink, “Smooth line!”
Recently single, I decided to participate in a Divorce Recovery class with the idea of becoming healthier and working through some of my issues. On a Tuesday evening, the class was 45 minutes north at First Baptist Church in Ft Lauderdale. Although it was quite a distance, I was determined to attend, no matter how nervous I felt, to overcome my perception of myself as invisible and voiceless. Part of the territory for being newly divorced was a sense of shame and uncertainty about who I was. As a busy mother of two young children with special needs and teaching full-time, I would carve out the time for the class and get a babysitter.
The class consisted of about twenty-five single men and women ranging widely in age. The teacher of the Divorce Recovery Class skillfully incorporated psychology and faith, which I found innovative. She not only confirmed the challenging nature of the divorce process, but she also showed ways to move forward with forgiveness and discover God amid this new single identity.
Incorporating psychology and faith
During the eight-week class, the teacher took roll, and I don’t know why; we were adults. As she read the names, one name sounded familiar: Walter Burghardt. But I couldn’t place where I heard the name. Shaking my head, I wondered, gazed around, and identified a vaguely familiar face.
Who was he?
After class, I courageously approached him after class. Curiosity got the best of me, I asked if we knew each other. He responded with a quick remark, “Smooth line!” I turned every shade of red and grimaced.
Curiosity got the best of me
Later, he told me he didn’t intend for his line to be funny, but I interpreted it differently. Needless to say, I wanted to crawl under the table when he quipped, “Smooth line.” Debating whether to continue the conversation, my palms became sweaty, and my mouth felt like cotton. Maybe he thinks I am trying to pick him up. For goodness’ sake, I was a mother of two young children and not ready to date.
We explored how we might know each other by wracking our brains and asking each other questions. If we had met, where was it? Investigating, I asked, “Where do you live?”
No, we were not neighbors; he lived an hour north of me in another town. Perhaps it was at college where we met.
With a laugh, he said, “No, he didn’t go to Miami Christian College.”
Where did he go to school?
Stumbling over my words, I listed where I had lived, the various activities I had been involved in, and the churches I had attended. After questioning each other about where we might have met in South Florida, we came up blank.
Finally, after second-guessing myself, I asked, “Where did you go to high school?”
I sucked in a quick breath, and my eyes widened. That was it!
South Broward High School
He attended only one year, his senior year, while I was a sophomore. Was it band, geometry, or psychology? The common denominator appeared to be Spanish class. I then remembered the teacher took attendance every day. That is why his name was familiar – Walter Burghardt. I recalled a tall, long-haired blond who sat behind me, pestering the teacher about getting out of class. That was him. By far, he was the most intelligent student; the class must have bored him. On the other hand, I struggled with learning Spanish, being on the other end of the grading spectrum.
A tall blond
Consequently, Walter raised his eyebrows and dug deep into his high school memories. Slapping his hand on his head as if he remembered something, he said, “Charleen, you’re the girl who always had her Bible with her! “ A smile rushed across his face, but a flush crept across mine.
With my curiosity satisfied, I said goodbye. All the while, I could feel my heartbeat in my throat and my stomach churning.
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Subsequently, Walter and I shared bits of our stories each Tuesday at the end of the Divorce Recovery Class. Experiencing a divorce often motivates individuals to be more honest, vulnerable, and unpretentious. With those short, candid conversations, we became acquainted. We decided to keep in touch by exchanging numbers and talking about meeting for coffee.
A few weeks later, daringly and with trepidation, I phoned him to accompany me to a teachers’ Christmas dinner at my school. That was our first sort of date and the rest is history.
I never imagined that a wonderful man would walk into my life. I had no idea that God had different plans for me than being single. Taken back by the twist of events that brought us together, a Divorce Recovery Class, I felt a deep sense of gratitude and humility. I was given an unexpected second chance.
God redeems and turns around brokenness
Thankfully, God gives second chances, redemptive. How has God given you a second chance? How has God redeemed an addiction, abuse, a financial crisis, a career move, cancer or a relationship?
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