A year ago on SuperBowl Sunday, I sat in my house that was no longer my home. Less than 48 hours earlier, my husband had shocked me when he announced he was done with our marriage.

Earlier that Friday, I had gone to the grocery store to pick up a few things, including pizzas and snacks for SuperBowl Sunday. We usually spent it quietly, but I thought it would be nice to have a few stereotypical American football snacks.

But that day wasn’t what I anticipated. The afternoon was spent telling our daughters and close family and friends that we were getting a divorce. I was drained and devastated. I felt betrayed and despised, and that was before I even knew the truth of the situation.

Yet I decided to try to watch a little bit of the game. I grew up in a football family in a football town, and even just the sound of an exciting game comforted me in some way.

Not this time. It was simply background noise in the room that felt so oppressively empty even though my husband sat mere feet away.

I wasn’t expecting much from the halftime show, but I began to listen to Lady Gaga sing a song I’d never heard. As I sat in that cold and lonely place last year, the truth of the song seeped into me.

You’re giving me a million reasons to let you go
You’re giving me a million reasons to quit the show
You’re givin’ me a million reasons
Give me a million reasons
Givin’ me a million reasons
About a million reasons

If I had a highway, I would run for the hills
If you could find a dry way, I’d forever be still
But you’re giving me a million reasons
Give me a million reasons
Givin’ me a million reasons
About a million reasons

I bow down to pray
I try to make the worst seem better
Lord, show me the way
To cut through all his worn out leather
I’ve got a hundred million reasons to walk away
But baby, I just need one good one to stay