Holding hands
I wanted to use this post to share some of what God was to me during the difficult times.
Because of the necessary separation, and because my husband was working really long hours at a couple jobs, I felt like a single mother. I was also working part time at a Mother’s Day out program, watching twin babies in their home, and playing piano for a few choirs at our church. I often had to walk to a certain job because we didn’t have money for gas or because my husband needed our car for his jobs which were much farther away. Couple this with 7 hour counseling trips til the wee small hours of the morning, and you have one exhausted mother. The weight of everything sometimes caused my heart to ache. I often wished for just one day of relief, where I wouldn’t have to think of all that God was asking of me.
God showed Himself real to me in many ways. Once, after I had put my girl to bed, I was cleaning up after dinner. Few things make one feel more lonely than a dark, quiet house with plenty of chores to do. I took my daughter’s high chair out on the front porch to clean. As I was trying to scrub all the food off, a june bug arrived. I am not a particularly squeamish girl, but I really don’t like june bugs. They always fly at my head, and their hard bodies really gross me out. This just reminded me that there wasn’t a husband at home to “rescue” me. For the millionth time that week (probably that day!) I complained to God. “I shouldn’t have to be doing this alone, Lord. It’s not fair. And now, there’s a june bug.” To my surprise, at that very second, a HUGE toad jumped out from under the threshold of my front door and promptly devoured the pesky june bug. As the fat thing lopped back to his hiding spot, I stood there laughing and crying at the same time. Because God had just displayed to me that HE is my rescuer. I need no other. He heard me, and He helped me, even in what appeared to be a trivial “disaster.”
Here is another time the Lord reminded me that He is near. I will just provide an excerpt from an email I sent to tell a friend about it. This was written right after it happened:
hold your right hand;
it is I who say to you, “Fear not,
I am the one who helps you.” -Isaiah 41:13, ESV
First steps
I haven’t added to my story for a long time. I think it’s because when I last posted, I was on the verge of a really deep desert of bitterness. I couldn’t seem to come up with anything positive and I didn’t feel that it would benefit myself or anyone else for me to use this blog as an outlet for my anger.
I’m on the other side of that desert. Like always, God pulls me through and teaches me more and more. I think I can pick up where I left off, and continue to give Him glory for everything we’ve gone through.
One thing I haven’t really shed insight into is the attitude of my husband upon his horrid sinfulness being exposed. At first, I think he was in such shock and shame that true repentance wasn’t quite there. He was remorseful, and definitely wanted forgiveness, but I think that true repentance takes an incredible amount of effort and humility. Initially, he was not humble, just humiliated. After the impact of what he’d done settled in more and more, I’ve seen him become truly grieved by his actions and how he hurt his family. It took weeks, months, even a year, and I think he’s still coming to grips with his sin and the depth of how much he pained the Lord. Isn’t it amazing that our God forgives EVERYTHING? What love!
Continuing the story… When the shock wore off, I invited him to come over to the house to confess everything, and I mean EVERYTHING to me, in specifics. As he robotically created a timeline of our marriage and his betrayal, I realized that he had an incredible capacity to compartmentalize. Almost as if it wasn’t really him doing those wicked things. Any amount of trust that may have remained disappeared that night. His ability to sin and cover it up was sickening to me. There happened to be a large, disgusting roach in the room that he killed with his shoe during this conversation. I told him that to me, he was like the bottom of that shoe – covered with filth, and who knows what manner of germs. I said this calmly and without emotion.
We began to seek help. We chose a counselor who lived in a larger city about 3 hours away. This was a man who had a very similar story to my husband’s, and who knew personally the healing power of Christ. He is affiliated with Exodus International, a ministry geared toward people who struggle with homosexuality or same sex attraction and want healing. Jonathan is well-equipped, well-educated, and someone whom I believe listens intently to the Word of God. He saw the severity of our situation from the very beginning, and has been so faithful to pray for us and speak Truth over our lives. Though it was absolutely exhausting to drive 3 hrs, have a 2-hour session, and then drive 3 hours back (sometimes getting home after midnight with a toddler), we felt like we had to do whatever it would take.
The first few months were hard, to say the least. My husband was coming over to eat every night (as required by the people he was staying with). Oh, how I disliked that – at first. It created such a struggle in me. I loved this man, I’d given him everything, he was one flesh with me. If I ever hurt or needed help or wanted to laugh, he was the one I’d go to. But now, he was the reason for my hurt, and I had no idea how to go to him for anything. His presence was forced, awkward, and tense. We did our best to be polite and civil, probably for the sake of our baby. Once, he commented that I still had my wedding ring on, and that he was glad I didn’t take every opportunity to condemn him for what he’d done. I remember saying something like, “That will not help us accomplish anything.” What I should’ve said was, “Good thing you can’t hear what’s in my head.”
By the grace of God, we became a little more used to being around each other. At first, I would make it clear that he should leave as soon as dinner was over. Then, I would let him stay while I gave our daughter a bath and prepared for bed (I told him it was for her). A while later, I’d let him stay until after she was asleep, and we would be able to talk a little bit. Finally, I started missing him when he left. After a little over a month apart, I allowed him to move back in. He stayed in our extra storage room. For my safety, we absolutely could not consider any intimacy – because we had to wait three months for him to receive another blood test to know for sure if he was clean. I’m grateful for that time, because there was no amount of pressure on me. It gave us time to become friends.
Slowly, painstakingly, I began to see God transform him. I began to see what could be a foundation being built among the rubble. My Lord would give me little glimpses of hope that one day, we would be rebuilt. We would be strong. As He strengthened my faith, I believed Isaiah 61:3, “….And provide for those who grieve in Zion – to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord for the display of His splendor.”
Marianne
The Beginning of New Beginnings
It has been a while since I last posted. Frankly, it wasn’t easy giving the details of my story, especially because I’ve never told it in “public.” It takes a lot of emotional and spiritual strength to write it all out. It only gets better from here, though.
Waking up after the darkest night of one’s life is a little bit surreal. It’s as if the world, people, absolutes are all separated from you by a vacuum of burning pain. Nothing really seems like it should be. Like the dizzy feeling I get when I watch people play video games. I was grateful that my dear, dear friend Nadia had stayed the night on my living room floor, praying with me, sitting silently with me, crying with me, listening to me stumble through Scripture. When she had to leave in the morning, I did my best to go about a normal day taking care of my baby girl. I tried to hold myself together, so that she wouldn’t have any reason to be upset. I was so used to tending to my husband that I even tried to make sure he had food for the day and a place to sleep. Our friends assured me he was taken care of.
The first blessing after the mess was Focus on the Family’s pastoral care line. There I spoke to a godly counselor who helped me realize that my first priority had to be making sure I was healthy. I set up appointments in a larger city a few hours away for my husband and myself to be tested. Though it was hard for me to even be around him, to look at him, we only had one car. I drove and made him ride in the back seat. I didn’t allow him to have car keys, and I strongly disapproved his presence around our daughter, even though she adores him and my chest hurt to regulate their interaction. I didn’t even let him hold her. While we were in the city for the blood tests, my husband met with the pastor of our previous church and confessed what he’d done. Our pastor showed a huge amount of restraint and grace and offered to help us pay for counseling. Another blessing.
The next blessing was that we did not have to pay the $500 for the blood tests. Jack, the man who initially confronted my husband when he found out about his sin, covered the cost. This was a huge gift, since I knew that he and his wife were on a tight budget, as well. Their generosity was crucial to the first steps of our healing, because we absolutely had to know what we were working with in order to begin, and it would’ve taken us months to save up that much. Having my blood drawn for an STD test was one of the most humiliating things in the world. I was afraid, but I claimed Psalm 91, particularly verses 5-6, “You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday.”
Two days later, we got the results. The giant blessing: both he and I were completely negative for any diseases. I can say that this is the mercy of God. I don’t understand why He showed us this protection, but He did, and I’m forever rejoicing. We still wouldn’t know for sure if my husband was entirely clean, because he had been with someone too recently to get a completely accurate test. He would have to be tested three months later. Still, we knew for sure that the known HIV instance had no effect on either of us.
From that point on, we had to figure out the logistics of our separation. It was not my intention to leave my husband, but we both knew how important it was for us to have time apart. He needed to work through his repentance, I needed to process. Our situation was a tricky one, because this is not something you tell people, but we needed help. The next huge blessing was that my husband opened up to the recovery pastor at our current church, someone we’d known for years, even said the prayer at our wedding. This man had an addiction story of his own, nearly 20 years ago, and had personally experienced the grace and mercy of the Lord. He and his wife opened their home to my husband, allowing him to stay there as well as use their car. They met with us and prayed with us. In order for him to stay there, they required us to have dinner together every night.
This is how we began working through our marriage. This is how God made Himself more real than we’d ever cared to notice before. This is how He held us and orchestrated everything so that we had no excuses. Through counseling, friendships, and the provision and promises of our Mighty God, we set our hearts and clenched our jaws in resolve to remain married.
-Marianne
“Remember not the former things,
nor consider the things of old.
Behold, I am doing a new thing;
Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
…For I give water in the wilderness,
rivers in the desert,
to give drink to my chosen people,
The people whom I formed for myself
that they might declare my praise.”
ISaiah 43:18, 19a, 20b-21 (emphasis mine)
The end of unity (part 3)
Be sure to read Part 1 and Part 2 first!
After we moved, we realized that it wasn’t so easy for my husband to get an 8-5 job. We struggled financially. We depleted any savings we might have had before the move. At one point, we were unable to pay our gas bill, and spent the 18-degree night without a heater. Our baby was a year old at the time. It broke my heart.
Throughout these hardships, I implored God. Why was it so difficult? We had done the obedient thing and left a sinful situation. We fled from temptation. And if anything, couldn’t God at least understand my position? I suffered, I made sacrifices, my baby made sacrifices, couldn’t God just reward me for being faithful? I mean, it wasn’t easy to remain married to a man who had lied and cheated. But I submitted my will in hopes that God had a greater plan.
Over and over, I asked God to help me stop fearing. I memorized Scriptures about how God’s love overcomes fear. I shared with my husband that I was afraid that he wasn’t telling me the whole truth, and that one day, the truth would fly in my face. He assured me he had been entirely open with me. I shared Scriptures with him, and asked him to help me with this obstacle. We went to a marriage counselor, who decided after 2-3 sessions that we no longer needed his help. Still, I felt like all my efforts were in vain. I was throwing my heart against some invisible wall. I had never been more spiritually frustrated.
After about 8 months, an old friend said he was coming to visit. I knew Jack and his wife to be godly, upright people, friends of ours in ministry. Though I had my suspicions, I didn’t know his reason for coming. Turns out, he had stumbled upon some disturbing news, and had pieced together some reasons for why we had left our church. I stayed home while he talked with my husband for a couple hours. When they returned, Jack stayed to make sure my husband confessed everything to me.
Those hours are mostly a blur. My husband revealed that he had not been honest about- well, anything, and had in fact had a physical relationship with a man in the church. The man with AIDS. He told me that this was not the first time he’d had an “encounter” (there was that word again) with a man. Actually, throughout our 5 years of marriage, he’d been with somewhere around 30-50 men, all of them strangers, until this particular incident. He had been with a man only a week before this confession.
My whole world shook. I’d been married to a lie. Our beautiful marital intimacy was actually a sexual outlet for my husband’s addictions. I’d been used. Behind the godly, compassionate, loving man I thought I married was a self-serving, unfaithful liar. He didn’t even give any thought to my safety or health, let alone the unity of our family. I had never so much as kissed another man, but it suddenly occurred to me that I could be HIV positive. Our daughter could be HIV positive. I’d saved everything for my husband, and he had harmed me in return.
This was the beginning of our separation. I could not even make the decision for him to leave, because my heart was so raw and desperately clinging to shreds of our marriage. Thankfully, the godly men (another friend also came over) took him to a place where he could stay for a few days while I took time to piece through the aftermath of this explosion.
Something else happened that night. While my heart was being ripped from my chest and everything I knew to be real was revealed as false, I felt the Lord. I have been a Christian since I was a young child, but I’d never known His presence like I did then. I had been memorizing Psalm 91, and in the midst of the worst battle I’d known, I was able to speak truth out loud. His Word brought me peace. His promises assured me. His presence calmed me. He pulled me so close and let me fall apart in His lap. I stayed up very late just reading Scripture aloud. If the Lord had not been by my side, I feel like I may have died that night. He gave me the hope that He is the Redeemer. He caused me to immediately set out to forgive my husband. He told me that He would restore. For His glory.
The burning tears, the pain, the shame, the long road and emotional toil ahead would not be for me, my marriage, or our renown.
It would be for His glory. Yes, let it be.
-Marianne
“‘Because he loves me,’ says the LORD, ‘I will rescue him. I will protect him, because he acknowledges my name. He will call upon me and I will answer him, I will be with him in time of trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life will I satisfy him and show him my salvation.’” Psalm 91:14-16 (NIV)
The end of ministry (part 2)
Be sure to read Part 1 first!
My husband and I have degrees from a Christian school where we met. He has a master’s from seminary. His calling was to lead worship, my calling was to support him in that. We’d been serving in various church positions since we’d been married – just over 4 years. There was some frustration in our relationship, because I felt like his priorities were always skewed. It worried me that it was not evident that he was seeking God. It worried me that he poured himself into ministry, but didn’t seem to have time for me or our baby girl. It worried me that he could worship and pray so passionately at church or in choir, but I rarely saw him read the Word. These were concerns that I shoved deep inside, because we had a pretty great marriage, all things considered. He was my best friend. We were the example. We courted, and even saved our first kiss for the altar. I assumed that my feelings were typical among wives in the ministry. Being extremely lonely and disconnected from the (sometimes ruthless!) church members didn’t help the matter. I dreaded going to church.
Then one Thursday night, he said he needed to talk with me after I put our daughter to bed. He had that nervous smile on his face that triggered a sick feeling in my stomach. He explained that he had been struggling with same sex attraction, and felt it would be best for him to step down from ministry for a time to seek counseling. This was not a huge shock to me. He had confessed to me before we married that he’d had several same sex “encounters” and was repentant and didn’t want to be that way. As a naive young woman, it crushed me, but I determined that I’d help him through it. I just knew that once he was married to me, God would “fix” that. The problem didn’t just go away, however, and I knew that a couple of times throughout our 4 years together, he had messed up. It was sometimes hard for me to remember all the passwords to the protective software we had on our computer.
Now, he was sitting here in our living room – in the house that belonged to the church, no less – telling me that he needed help. This time, it was someone we knew. It was someone in the church. It was someone with AIDS. He swore that nothing had happened beyond inappropriate texting, but once he found out that this person was sick, it scared him and prompted him to get serious about his sin.
So we decided that he’d resign from his ministry position, leaving us without a paycheck or a home, as our house was owned by the church and I stayed home. The reason he gave to the pastor and church was that he needed to reexamine his priorities and spend more time with his family. Of course, this was true, just not as devastating as the whole truth. It was so hard for me to watch people pat him on the back and say “good for you,” or to see how confused my youth girls were when I just pulled out of our Sunday school class altogether with no warning. Even my pastor’s wife, who seemed previously uninterested in my life ’til now, took me to coffee to try to get something more out of me. I maintained that we just needed a break to seek God’s will for our lives.
I had no one to talk to. Who could understand the delicacy of my secret situation? I determined to support my husband, but it felt so strange that he was the only one I could talk to, and yet he was the reason for my pain. I poured my heart out to God. Surely He would reward my silent suffering by renewing my husband’s heart. Surely He would fix our family and make us stronger and more unified.
Being on a tight budget with no job, we sold a lot of our things. It hurt to watch our baby things go, to sell all her sweet clothes. It was tough to sell our bed. It was humbling to accept a substantial love offering from the church. We packed up and moved to the little town where we went to college. Here we had mentors and a church body, the cost of living was low (so we thought). The plan was that he would get a regular 8-5 job and we’d seek professional counseling while we tried to save money living in a nasty, old, poorly-insulated house.
That was the plan, at least.
-Marianne
“Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand.” Proverbs 19:21, ESV
The end of the beginning (part 1)
This isn’t a cheery, happy blog. You won’t learn how to make pretty place markers for Christmas guests, or see cute quips and pictures of cuddly pets. No shout outs to friends or opinions on society. More than likely, you’ll read through a fight. You’ll read a verbal trail of my endeavor to hold on to my marriage, my family, my future, and most importantly, my Jesus.
Not many people know about me. Sure, I have friends who think I’m witty, fun, naive, and that I have a pretty cushy life. There is a very small number of companions who actually witnessed the cave in or its aftermath. So I’ll be incognito as I detail the steps of the past year and the upcoming one.
My purpose is not just to (b)log everything that I’m going through. Rather than be seclusive in my healing process, it’s my hope that I’ll bless someone else who may be going through trials, hurts, betrayal, questions. And though I am definitely not a consistently pure individual, I do hope that even the ugly stuff will somehow bring glory to Jesus.
-Marianne
“But now thus says the LORD, he who created you, O Jacob,
He who formed you, O Israel:
‘Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by name, you are mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
When you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
and the flame shall not consume you.
For I am the LORD your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.’”
Isaiah 43: 1-3a (ESV)
