Hot Potatoes & Atomic Minefields
Go From Passing off Divorce to Helping Them Through.
Let’s face it, we’re allergic to explosions. Add juggling molten lava potassium balls wrapped in tinfoil through an entire field of them, and you can understand why most people pass on helping someone walk through a divorce.
Shallow questions hit different when you’re in the middle of it.
“Hey, how ya doin’?”
“Terrible.”
“Anything new going on in your world?”
“Divorce. Divorce is what’s going on. Every day. Divorce.”
“Any plans for Christmas?”
“Oh, just soaking my pillow in tears at night watching Tim Allen Santa his way through marital status issues, steering reindeer, then drowning my sorrows in eggnog and old takeout.”
“Ok, sounds good, great to see you in church today!”
No villain in this impromptu drama. No rehearsed lines or predetermined plot. It’s “Whose Line is it Anyway: Divorce Edition” with both thrust into roles without auditioning. Two people, new terrain, no training. How do you rescue someone entrenched in hidden explosives? One wrong move and appendages start flying. That sounds hard. So is divorce.
How many churches offer training for walking someone through divorce? Most only offer blast ointment.
Churches like clean, and divorce pulls up in a sewage truck emptying its contents on the front lawn. We prefer calm and divorce strolls down the aisle with a bag of dynamite. It’s messy, volatile, and stinks. Reaching someone walking through the hell of divorce is high risk, and churches tend to be highly risk averse.
Divorce is volatile. Its triggers don’t react well to footsteps. It’s safer for everyone if left alone, right? They’ll find a way through the blast zone alone. God will light their path. Less body parts go missing when no one helps.
It’s like standing on the shore watching someone drown, hoping they make it out alright.
What would Jesus do with divorce? In what gospel does Jesus avoid the culturally stained? Where does He skirt around explosive issues? Where did Jesus abandon people in the battlefield of life? Would He do nothing for a drowning soul?
Jesus knew scripture and how to apply it in the right context at the ripest of moments. He wasn’t afraid of danger zones.
The woman at the well was living in sin, and Jesus walked into Landmine Central unfazed by what others thought. Men didn’t talk to women in public, especially one with her reputation. He didn’t address difficult situations in abstract tones or post a piercing quote on Facebook. He walked into a minefield, read her mail, and delivered her out of it, regardless of how hot that potato was.
Hot Potatoes sit in your church every Sunday, silently smoldering, stuck in one of the most explosive seasons of life. Standard operating procedure tosses them to a counselor, avoiding them at all costs. You’re not a trained counselor so the only play is avoidance. That’s what we’re quietly taught. But the question quietly tugs at your heart; what would Jesus do? Are you willing to step into chaos, risking safety for a soul?
If you’re a YES – let’s go! But before charging into this explosive frontier, be aware of the dangers lurking below. What do these explosives look like and how do we navigate around them? Let’s meet some trigger points now.
Mine #1 – The Ex-Spouse
Why not start with the mother (or father) of all bombs. Tread carefully. Triggering this one ends the rescue mission before it starts. If they can’t get past this one, there’s no saving them.
Keep Your Lenses Clean
We tend to believe the person physically in front of us, or side with the one who shares our gender (Sidenote: if you’re sharing relational details about your ex with the opposite sex, major red flag alert). Proximity doesn’t automatically translate to truth and neither does frequency.
Direct traffic elsewhere when conversation turns negative. Remember, you are getting their version of the story, told through a lens of pain or betrayal. There may be paragraphs of truth, but blind acceptance keeps them stuck and you biased. You don’t know what’s happened behind closed doors.
Their ex doesn’t push them forward — it shackles them to an improvised explosive device. Fixating becomes the Groundhog Day of landmines.
See clearly. Discern the difference between honest frustration and manipulating you to their side. Taking sides never moves someone forward. When you do, you become a fight promoter within the church.
“Did you hear about so-and-so, and what they did to their ex?”
This always ends in a fourth-of-July finale explosion. Carrying their offense never leads to escape. It fogs your vision.
They will never see a future when their ex clouds it. Yes, it’s a minefield they can’t see through yet, but you can. Keep speaking God’s future over them. Let them hear God’s purpose through your words. Speak to a destiny they can’t see yet.
Wear the right lens.
Give Pain its Space
If you’ve never experienced divorce, imagine your body ripped in half with the expectation of walking at the same pace on one leg. It’s a nuclear detonation with a vicious radioactive aftermath. Divorce doesn’t use a scalpel; it prefers shredding. Meet their pain with grace and compassion.
If they’ve been betrayed, don’t trivialize or play it down. Give it the space it deserves without rushing them to forgiveness. Let it breathe. Giving yourself to another opens the deepest wound possible. This isn’t getting fired from a job or ghosted on social media. Their entire world was upended by someone else’s sin. That pain only heals at one speed: slow. The pain is valid, treat it that way.
If they violated their vows, gently walk them through guilt and toward repentance. Don’t gloss over it or treat it like a traffic violation. Ask God for the wisdom to speak into their life at the right time and be ready when He does. Be ready to meet them at their well. Speak truth, but douse it with grace, compassion, hope, and love.
This journey won’t have a timeline. You don’t flip a switch to turn off this kind of pain. No cheat code. Don’t try to crack it. Resist pressing the eject button when the mission misses a checkpoint. It’s their journey, not yours. Don’t rush them through pain they haven’t processed.
Let pain breathe.
Change the Language
Ever learn a new language? Now’s a good time.
Their ex is just that — an ex. Not a wife or husband, an ex. Teach them fluency in their present reality. This will get pushback. Teach the basics in loop mode. Take the ring off. That’s the first language lesson. Controversial for some, but it’s a reminder of a past not coming back and wishful thinking for a future that won’t happen. That indentation on the fourth finger needs to disappear.
Direct away from language that connects to the ex. If they have children, it’s “your mom,” not “mom.” “Hey guys, your mom is picking you up today.” Simple, but the implications are landmine diffusing. There’s no we. It’s you and them. Change the language and they’ll slowly change their thinking.
Where’s faith in this?! They’re refusing to say ex because God is going to bring them back! He may — we serve a big God, and it’s happened. But is it helping current reality? If they’re not careful, that language ends up in a restraining order. Kaboom.
It fosters false hope for the majority. The moment that decree is signed, the marriage is over. In its current state, they need to speak its language. It feels cold, but the sooner they get there, the closer to freedom they’ll be.
It’s Maggie, Jim, or their ex. Help them get there.
Stop Giving Them the Main Role
Human nature loves making villains more villainous. The bigger they are, the more satisfying the kill. People spend years on this circular quest tripping mines along the way. Life becomes about revenge, getting even, settling a score. The more they mention their ex, the bigger the role they play, the more stuck they become.
Or is it a vicious cycle of replaying the movie of a life that doesn’t exist anymore? This person was the star of the show. Now they’re paralyzed in a field surrounded by explosives with their main character walking off set.
Either way, their life must escape the orbit of their ex-spouse. If they call needing help with their taxes, kindly point them to H & R Block. If guilt or pity keeps casting them in their story, they’ll never make another movie. Point them to a future where the ex makes cameo appearances at graduations, weddings, and births only.
They win when they no longer miss their favorite character or seek revenge. They win when their former spouse becomes an emotionless thought.
Show them the power they possess when writing out their ex.
They’re Not Them Anymore
The spouse you married isn’t the ex you’re divorced from.
It’s like seeing the main character of their favorite movie series playing a different role in a different movie. They’re not even in the same costume anymore! They recognize them, but don’t know who they are.
They struggle making the shift. Accepting they aren’t loved by this person once inseparably bonded. It doesn’t feel real. It’s a gut punch in the feels. They would never do this to them. But they did and that sting stays. They’re in a different movie now.
Help them start making theirs.
Your mission is to help them find a new frontier. No future with this person no longer married to.
These are the moments you breathe life into a future they can’t see. Don’t resuscitate a past that chains them to a landmine.
It Will Not Go as Planned
Remind yourself of this often. Take Mike Tyson’s advice and be prepared to play jazz. Your plan will take a punch. Adapt, but never forget the mission no matter how messy it gets.
Emotions don’t play well with timelines. There is no template. It’s improv. But with the right tools, discernment, and the Holy Spirit, you can help them escape the minefield of divorce.
Ready to meet people at some wells?



So good! I love the metaphor of minefields and how you used that to spell out a really difficult scenario. Very well written and so important for the church to understand.
Amen! Your analogies and metaphors are on point in so many ways. Thank you for that. It is messy and what an opportunity to extend gace and truth like Christ. It also requires courage and boldness to step out of the church culture that makes walking with people ominous.