Is Pornography Adultery?

This is an excellent article on the differences between men and women when it comes to defining intimacy. This explains why men generally don't understand how most women feel that their husband's pornography use is absolutely an adulterous act. It's a must read for every couple effected by pornography.

(Click the image or text to be directed over to the full article. )

""You cried with her?"  My wife appeared wounded, even a little threatened, when I described my conversation with a female employee...The simple question, “How are you?” opened a floodgate of tears as she described feelings of betrayal and despair because of her husband’s behavior. As she wept, I empathized with her pain and shed a few tears of my own. While I maintained strict physical boundaries with my coworker—I didn’t so much as pat her hand—my emotional response to another woman’s anguish triggered a protective instinct within my mate. 

Charissa is neither insecure nor suspicious by nature. In fact, she quickly caught herself and recognized that I had simply empathized with the suffering of another person. Nevertheless, her visceral reaction gave me a fleeting glimpse into the mystery of womanhood. And the resulting conversation with my wife became the first step on a journey of discovery in which I learned just how differently men and women experience marital intimacy. Along the way, I also discovered a profound truth that explains why wives consider a man’s viewing pornography nothing short of adultery . . . and why men think they’re overreacting."

Read the Full Article Here ...

Pray Hard. This is War.

This past year, I've been reading constantly. I'm currently working my way through four books right now in addition to a couple of Bible study books. There's something like feeling alone in a crisis that has compelled me to reach out for help. Perhaps you are in the same boat: desperate for answers, hungry for God, and enjoying the gathering of information.

It's interesting that as I read, themes start to come and go and I realize that one theme or another has come to me from all of my sources. They have appeared in varying length and at different times but close enough together to be of significance. One of the most recent themes is an exhortation to pray with boldness.

 • ••  PRAYING WITH AUTHORITY  •• •

I frequently visit Inspired Reads to check out and download free or discounted Christian fiction and non-fiction books for my Kindle. It's a great resource and all of the books I will mention here were acquired for free because of Inspired Reads' alerts. I saw this book, Holding Onto Heaven While Your Marriage Goes Through Hell so I sheepishly clicked to download it - almost looking behind my shoulder because, well, it had the word "Hell" in the title...and it was in the same sentence as "marriage". Gasp. What would my husband think if he caught a glimpse of that title???  Shame. 

So late that night I started reading almost expecting to get a watered down attempt at helping a hurting spouse. Being a graphic designer, I had already made my judgement based on the poorly designed cover even though we all know how unreliable that practice may be.

Instead of being able to indulge in my preconceived notion, what I read was rather convicting. The author of one chapter had described her difficult marriage with a verbally abusive and emotionally distant husband. She was at her wits end and was considering separation or divorce. But at the probing of a friend she decided to face her situation with a different approach. While her husband was at work, she went into their bedroom and began praying over the place where he would lay on the bed at night. Putting her hands on his pillow, she prayed for his mind. She boldly bound Satan away from her husband's thinking. Expecting her requests to be given to her she continued praying for different aspects of her husband's life with assertiveness, hope and boldness. And in time, things began to change. Her marriage was eventually restored and prayer was the beginning of it all.

As I read, I felt conviction in the form of a cold sweat and the sensation of blood leaving my face. How childish I had felt for not praying for Jack in this way. How self-centered I was for not seeing that Jack was in bondage and needed a helping hand instead of an accusing finger. I am not saying that you don't point out life dominating sins, or communicate on important issues. But we must do so with the respect due to a person that God has created and loves deeply. I must resist seeing Jack as my enemy. My real enemy is Satan. This is spiritual warfare.

I recalled a sermon I'd heard recently by Russell Moore. In it he pointed out how Satan loves to expose sexual sin when it will do the most damage. He waits until you get that youth pastor position. He waits until your range of influence is at it's largest. He gets his foot in the door of your heart and then blows it wide open. Now I also believe that God is completely sovereign and He alone allowed disclosure that could in fact be the catalyst for restoration and getting that sin and its roots out of my husband's life. It is over my head how these two truths work together, but I believe it's found somewhere in Romans 8:28-29 and in the words of Joseph while he comforted his repentant brothers.

• ••  PRAYING WITH POWER •• •

A few weeks later, I was reading a book on separation by Linda W. Rooks, Broken Heart on Hold. In one entry, she quoted an interview with Pastor Carl Stephens on spiritual warfare in marriages:

"I believe that a wife's prayers for her husband are stronger than anyone else's prayers for him. When a wife prays for her husband, or a husband prays for his wife, there is a dimension in the spirit realm that gives these prayers a greater spiritual force simply because of the fact that they are one."

"If she can remove herself from the wounds that have been inflicted on her; if she can take her focus off her husband to focus on God instead; if she can catch hold of the truth that her prayers are so extremely powerful, then she's going to be able to rise up and do battle for something she loves and cares about."

He continues on to speak about strongholds and the spiritual authority that a believer has over them when we are submitted to God. We have the authority and the power of Jesus to bind Satan. "...the enemy has no choice but to leave."

• •• EXPECTANT PRAYER •• •

I picked up a Charles Swindoll book on Psalms a few months ago. I had been reading more in Psalms because the book had been especially comforting to me, so I wanted to dig a little deeper. Yesterday the subject of expectant prayer was before me. In studying Psalm 5, we see David's expectant prayer in verses 1-3. In verse 3, David, "orders" his prayer. In the Hebrew it's like placing an order. When we go to a restaurant and place and order, we wait in our booth fully expecting and at peace that we will receive what we have ordered. 

"When we think of "placing an order," we remember one thing that is essential: we have to be specific. Too many prayers suffer from timidity and vagueness. God invites us to pray with bold expectation when we ask for what He has promised or anticipate what we know to be His will."

 "...he prayed with confidence in the Lord's sovereignty and goodness. In fact, he decided to begin each morning this way; he greeted each new day by "placing his order" and resolving to wait with confidence for God's response."

• ••  I'M HOLDING ME BACK •• •

It's starting to sink in at this point for me. Starting. I have been stripped of desire to give my husband any chance of hurting me again. Do I really want to work so hard for something that I wasn't sure I wanted?  But how can I brush the hand of God away as He offers me the gift of a restored marriage? The thoughts from these books and my hesitancy to follow through with fervent authoritative, war-zone prayers have exposed my lack of desire for my marriage to really work. I had checked out. I have checked out. Walking away is more enticing than waiting for God to grant repentance so my husband and I can then start cleaning up the sludge of sin together. So don't think as I write these entries that there isn't a battle raging inside of me.

It seems to me that I need to be at the point where I would be devastated and shocked if my husband didn't change instead of shaking my head and saying "Well, I'm not surprised."  Right now I'm relieved to be away from him and it's hard to conceive of ever going back even in light of true repentance. I have to ask myself "how badly do you want this?" It's like I'm standing in the middle of a battle and fighting here and there but suddenly realizing that I'm really not fighting very hard and I'm not even sure if I want to win. I just want it to be over or to be dead so I don't have to be in misery anymore.

• ••  A CALL TO FAST •• •

Occasionally in the morning I go for a walk with my son. I push the stroller zig-zagging through our streets to make the most out of the small neighborhood. While I walk, I've been listening to a few books. Handle with Prayer by Charles Stanley has been one of them. I'm currently half way through, but I think I'll have to read it again since my 2-year-old likes to talk to me constantly as we journey by little water fountains, flowers, dogs, birds, trucks and old men who don't wear shirts - "Mommy, he's naked!".

Stanley wrote a chapter on fasting. I listened to it for a few mornings in a row. It was convicting and I think that God is asking me to fast for my marriage. And I'm seriously considering it while I try to figure out how best to go about it.

Fasting is an act of obedience, especially since I do feel that God is bringing it before me in this book, in random broadcasts I've recently listened to, and in conversations brought up by other people. Fasting places somber importance on the reason why you are fasting. It allows God to reveal your own sin to yourself. Sometimes this alone is what changes an impossible situation - confessing sin and strongholds. During times of fasting, we hear God's voice and heart clearly. When we seek him with all of our hearts, we will find Him. That's a promise. All the benefits that result from fasting are right there waiting for me. Why wouldn't I want to reach out and take these valuable priceless gifts? This theme is certainly coming to a head for me and I'm quickly approaching a point of decision that will demand a follow-up in action.

• ••  THE BOTTOM LINE •• •

The truth is, it's possible for me to give every ounce of myself toward reconcilliaion and it still not turn out well. But it is an undeniable truth that if I don't give this everything I've got, and our marriage ends, that I am a guilty party. I won't be able to look my little boy in the eyes and say that Mommy did everything she could to keep our family together. I let Daddy slip away in his bondage and I didn't contend over his soul and heart. 

These are the thoughts that have been rolling around in my mind for a few weeks. Some of these thoughts came to me as I was typing as this was one of those blogs that just seemed to write itself. I think this is the journey of aligning my heart with God's. He is, as I have been asking Him to do, slowly and steadily placing my heart, thoughts and emotions where He wants them to be. Jack is not the enemy. Satan is. And if I am going to be completely pleasing to the Lord, I need to pick my weapons back up, secure my armor and be "all in" even though it's a fight that I didn't think I'd signed up for.

"Give ear to my words, O Lord; consider my groaning. Give attention to the sound of my cry, my King and my God, for to you do I pray. O Lord, in the morning you hear my voice; in the morning I prepare a sacrifice for you and watch" ESV

"In the morning I will order my prayer to you and eagerly watch." NASB

• •• Psalm 5:1-3 •• •

Protection

But the Lord is faithful, 

and He will strengthen and protect you from the evil one.

~ 2 Thessalonians 3:3 ~

Pornography: the Intimacy Killer

The look of shock on my friend's face when I told her that my husband and I would go months without sex was sobering. As I continued to think back through our marriage, I realized there were so many clues that pornography had invaded our lives and one of them was lack of intimacy. Now to muddy the water, we were intimate. And when we were, it was quite good. But there was always a reason why he would turn me down most of the time. There was something I wasn't doing right, it takes too long, he just doesn't need sex as much as I do, he's tired, or he didn't know I was trying to instigate. . . etc. 

There was also always a sense of being undesired. I could feel the void. I could see that it was missing in his eyes. It was something I could never have verbalized to anyone except by saying that there was "something missing." I never tried, though, because without any concrete examples, I would look a little paranoid or overly sensitive. And don't forget that other than the sadness I felt, I didn't know any better. So I lived on in this marriage feeling oddly undesired most of the time. 

So as I read more and talked to more counselors after finding out about my husband's pornography use, I slowly realized that I honestly didn't know what a normal sex life looks like. Pornography surprisingly decreases the natural desire a husband has toward his wife. It's just not there like it is for other men. 

Here is a link to a short video on the Covenant Eyes website along with an article. (You can also click the image below.) This couple shares what pornography did to the intimacy of their marriage. I am right there with them. Wives, your'e not alone.

Yes Pornography destroys, but God restores. 

The brain can be rewired by the One who created it. The heart can be made right by the One who created it. And God can redirect our desires. This video doesn't end on a great note, so I wanted to point out the good news that can be experienced when God does a work in people's lives. 

It's Not You

No matter how many times I've heard, "it's not your fault", I still have to fight the battle within. My husband has even told me that it wasn't my fault, yet I hear from every cell of my body that I wasn't enough. But no wife can ever compete against pornography. You just can't. It's impossible.

The following is a grouping of quotes from a book I am reading now - Hope After Betrayal: Healing when sexual addiction invades your marriage by Meg Wilson. It's so helpful to hear from another wife. There is validation and truth here. Continue to speak the truth to yourself.


"I'll never forget walking into that support group.
There were thirty to forty women - and they were all beautiful! There simply is no connection between a wife's attractiveness and her husband's sexual addiction. Those who think otherwise don't understand how the addcition works....My husband's addiction was not about me. I wasn't there when it started. I didn't do anything to cause it. And I could not change it. Truth is a powerful healer." pg 37, 38

"Trying to make sense of addiction...is futile, because addiction is insanity. A man giving up his loving wife to be with himself or some stranger makes no sense. " pg 46

"Self-blame is one of the most subtle lies that our Enemy whispers in the darkness. Most of us betrayed wives have ended up trying to compete with "it", even when we weren't sure what "it" was." pg 48  (Can I get an AMEN up in here?  Some wives have no heads up that anything is amiss, but many wives like myself live for years knowing that they are fighting an unknown enemy. A counselor said to me recently, "in one way or another, you've been dealing with this for 9 years."  Yes, I have. And yes, you dear sister have also. Give yourself that validation. And now arm yourself with some real ammo.)

"Because I'd been living with an addict, certain patterns had been established in Dave's and my relationship...God can use disclosure to be the catalyst for looking for, recognizing and changing those patterns, and for ultimate healing. I need to be willing to let God show me my own part in the unhealthiness." pg 43

"No woman ever caused her husband's sexual addiction. Most men came to their wives already addicted. Nor is anyone completely innocent. We wives come into marriage with our own baggage. Both of these statements are true- and independent of each other. In our brokenness, we enable dysfunction to continue in our home by not recognizing or questioning unhealthy behaviors." pg 58

"Unlike man, God will never leave nor could He ever be unfaithful. Let Him hold you, heal your broken places, and guide your next step." pg 39

Hope After Betrayal: Healing when sexual addiction invades your marriage
Meg Wilson


This is the truth. I've read it so many places and heard it from so many counselors. It seems impossible to take it in, though. I'm trying to convey this to you and many times a day I realize how little I am taking this truth on, myself. 

Last week, I wrote in my journal, "I am overwhelmed by how much I hate myself."  And then by God's gentle love, I opened up Meg's book to this chapter and read these very words above that you have just read. It's crazy the effect that a husband hooked on porn has on his wife. It is not a victimless crime. BUT there is a Savior who, if we let Him, will show us how He sees us. In His eyes we are beautiful. He desires us and seeks after us the way that we long to be pursued. Jesus fills the void in my heart that my husband was never created to fill. Empty arms or not, Jesus is the only satisfaction that can be found.

Immanuel

Be strong and courageous. 

Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, 

for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. 

~ Joshua 1:9 ~

He Hears

The eyes of the Lord are toward the righteous 
and His ears toward their cry...
When the righteous cry for help, 
the Lord hears and delivers them out of all their troubles.

~ Psalm 34: 15,17 ~

When the Fishbowl Is Dirty. . .

There's something about public shame, especially when you are a private person. The worst and most devastating thing happens but instead of it being kept in the family or in your own home, it is visible to everyone. All of the dirt, your reaction to the dirt, people's opinions of the dirt, and people's opinions of your reaction to the dirt is out for all to see. They watch you try to clean it up. They share their input even though they've never done it themselves, and you're ahead of the game if you're the one they share it with.  They can see your progress and then they give their opinion about that, too. 

It reminds me of something a friend said to us once. My husband and I had candidated for a youth pastor position at a church we'd attended for a few years. We lost it by only a handful of votes. It was humiliating and at the time, completely devastating. A year later we were blessed to be called to another church and would be moving to another state. While we were packing, some dear people were helping us clear out the most embarrassing parts of our home. There were corners I hadn't cleaned, closets I hadn't straightened, clutter I hadn't thrown away but people were putting things into boxes for us all the same. Rooms I had shut off when guests arrive were now being cleaned by those very guests. A gentleman helping us said with a laugh, "having your friends help you move is like standing in front of everyone naked while they give you a good soaping down. And there's nothing you can do about it."

Public humiliation is like being helplessly exposed. 

I've never done well in the fishbowl. Like Beth Moore states jokingly in one of her lessons on Deuteronomy, I want to shut the door and lock it. My welcome mat is out but I don't mean it. I tend to be a private person so the public humiliation of my husband's twisted unfaithfulness sent me to the breaking point. But being a private person, I didn't let anyone know that I was secretly on the mental edge of normal.

As a result of the fishbowl, I would not be able start quietly processing everything as a wife for several months. We were so busy with other things. There was, after all, God's name to shame, a church to shake to its foundation, a youth group to crush and dismay, friends to be shunned by, countless well meaning people to avoid, thoughtless words to endure, looming jail-time to be terrified over, a husband that kept reaching out to hold my hand expecting mine to be there, a sweet one-year-old to take care of, a family of in-laws to please. And it was exposed for all to see in the fishbowl of our former-ministry. There was no room for processing, no room for escaping, no room for getting a breather. I was buried and drowning in it.

But God . . .

I've had to develop a type of tunnel vision that causes me to only focus on the Lord. I need blinders. Over the last two years this idol of pleasing man has been exposed by public humiliation and more recently disagreement over actions I have taken. I must turn my focus not on all the cheering or scrutinizing onlookers, but on the Lord Himself. What He thinks. What He says.

I have learned that I am a huge people pleaser with a fear of man disability. It is paralyzing and can make a person crazy. God exposed this sin and thought routine in my life and as my situation progresses, I am sort of on the training wheels of working through it.

I have had to do some things that have made the people whose opinions and approval I coveted the most shake their heads in disbelief. I have finally stood to speak up against things that were happening in my life and though it's been impossible to ignore the opposing opinions from those I had looked up to, I have done my best to follow God's leading when it has gone against the current.

It is so hard to keep those blinders on. Often I find in the midst of an anxious night that the reason I am anxious is not because I've received another difficult email, but because I have placed God's direction and opinion of me aside, taken the blinders off and am looking around at other things.

It takes intentionality to fight the feeling of the fishbowl. Focus has to be constantly redirected to the Lord.

Delivered

I sought the Lord and He heard me and delivered me from all my fears.

~ Psalm 34:4 ~

The Routine at Day's End

I should go to bed before I actually do.

I think I stay up so late to avoid the reality that I'm going to bed alone. 

Going to bed by myself is like admitting that the party is over, the gig is up. Off I go by myself into my dark world where I cannot escape reality. The shows I watch with my parents to help me forget what my life has become have been turned off. The late night snacks that mask the pain are gone.

Sure, my sweet 2-year-old son is sleeping in his crib only a few feet away from my bed, and that does give me comfort. I love to stand there and look at him sleeping. I love him so much. It scares me to think of what my life would be like right now if God hadn't given him to me. Kids force you out of bed. They get you going because you have to take care of them. They jolt you from dark reality with a cute phrase and silly laugh. Knowing all of the dark thoughts that have crossed my mind this last year, He's probably literally saved my life by now - him and his amazing smile, laugh and snuggles.

I go in, and look at him for a little bit. I check to see if he needs a diaper change. I make sure he's not too hot or too cold. I adjust the blankets accordingly.

I get into bed. Usually I sit there for at least twenty minutes and just stare at the sheets. I process the day. I process my situation. I remind myself of the truth, I self talk. But sometimes I just stare and try to think of nothing. If it's been a very hard day, I cry as quietly as I can and as long as it takes to get it all out. I do all my crying there if I can at all help it. (private person syndrome) Then I sit some more.

I tell the Lord how I feel. Sometimes I curl up in a ball and try to imagine being at His feet - under His wings. I cry some more and express how much I want my heart to please Him. I pledge my submission and love to Him.

And when I'm dry, I decide what I will read before going to bed. I have a basket full of books that I'm slowly working through daily. They are books by wives who have travelled this road, devotionals, my Bible, study books, etc. If I feel especially tired, I will only read some Psalms. But sometimes if I feel awake and more ready for information, I go for some biography, a Bible study and some journaling.

There are many reasons why I am thankful for the difficulties that have come my way. I can't say that I'm glad it all happened, but I can truly say that I'm very thankful for what the hard times have produced. Nothing else could have sent me running after God's Word as hungrily as I have been lately. Good times just can't produce that in people's lives. Hard times drive you there. It's the only way.

As hard as the nights are, I know that they are necessary. I cannot stuff the emotions, I cannot stop reading and studying. I cannot and should not dull the pain as much as I want to. I cannot turn a deaf ear from what God wants to teach me in this. It's grueling so I must not waste the journey.

His Comfort

As one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you.

~ Isaiah 66:13 ~

Nothing to Fear but God Himself

"The fear of man lays a snare but whoever trusts in the Lord is safe." Proverbs 29:25

As I sit down to write, I am shaking inside with fear. I will fast forward the telling of my story to the present day for now. 

I am sitting in my parents house over 1,000 miles away from my home and husband. My son, who is now two years old, is being occupied by magnet letters, crackers and a Veggie Tales movie. 

I have been surprised by the types of fears that have gripped my heart in my to date 8-month-long separation. Some have been legitimate. Fear for my son. Fear that I wouldn't get a chance to leave. Fear of more difficult discussions. Fear of my in-laws. Fear of seeing some people in our church again from the letters that I have received. I fear the word "ministry" because it was under the label of ministry that my deepest hurts were rationalized. 

Fear that my husband would continue failing to "get it".

It was hard to decipher and then admit that I was also afraid that he would start to "get it". Anything that gives the appearance that he is doing the right thing sort of sends me over the edge in fear. I have to go back, now - he's being compliant. I have no choice.

I'm afraid that it won't work out. 
I'm afraid that it will work out. 

I'm afraid of what people think of what I post on Facebook in light of my situation, so I don't post, or like, or comment, or play games anymore in order to be invisible.

I want to hide. I like it here all safe at my parents house.  But this can't work forever. 
I want to go home, but I don't want to go home. 

It's an awful limbo that grips and paralyzes me. I feel trapped and in my own personal hell on earth with a fork in the road whose paths both lead to torment and more fear.

I'm afraid that our new counselor will, as the last one did, be played like a fiddle by my husband's smooth talking and vague jello-like commentary. If this counselor gives a stamp of approval when I disagree, then I will look like the crazy paranoid wife who won't give her poor husband a break.  

So much fear.

But God is there...

Then "FEAR the LORD!" rang in my heart and head. 

I laid in bed this afternoon enjoying a rare opportunity for a nap. 
Dear God, I'm so afraid. Help me to trust You. 
I fell asleep and woke up a half hour later. God, I'm afraid. Help me. 
That's how my nap went. Hugging a pillow and my soft blanket, I tried to rest and tell God what was on my heart. 

Then the verses came to mind that are taped to my bathroom mirror.

"Who is the man who fears the Lord? 

Him will he instruct in the way that he should choose. His soul shall abide in well being, and his offspring shall inherit the land. The friendship of the Lord is for those who fear Him and He makes known to them His covenant." 

Psalm 25:12-14

  "An He will be the stability of your times, abundance of salvation, wisdom, and knowledge. The fear of the Lord is Zion's treasure."

Isaiah 33:6

Everything I am currently fearing is smaller and less powerful than God. 

But I have put it all in a place of great reverence and concern. 

That's Idolatry

• The people I fear are. . . people. Sinful people just like me. God's opinion is vastly more important and to be sought after.

• The circumstances I fear are out of my control, but in God's powerful hands. Nothing happens without His direction and consent.

• Fearing God releases me from fearing everything else. It is the key to blessing, peace, and rest. 

His Strength

I will strengthen you, yes, I will help you, 

I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.

~ Isaiah 41:10 ~

Internal War Zone

Being the wife of someone whose secret sin has dominated most of his life is difficult on a million levels. I'm going to write about just one here, which probably encompasses a few other facets as well.

It's the mental and emotional tug of war 

between what you're hearing and what you're seeing.

You love the man. You want to believe the best. You want to see that he's completely repented. You search out his life with a magnifying glass looking for a pattern of true repentance. You don't see everything you are looking for and you are dismayed. But then. .  .you listen to his words. They tug strongly at your heart strings. But your friends shake their heads. Counselors say things like, "why are you still there?" Your head and your heart are at odds. You beg God for clear thinking and an accurate view of the truth, but even with times of clarity here and there, it remains a continual battle to see straight.

Your friends and family can see right through it but you reel them back in because you think maybe they're being too harsh on the man and, after all, they are only hearing your slanted words. You even soften your words about him so they won't automatically mentally vilify him.

His parents, however, don't see right through it. In fact they may feel the heart string tug much stronger than you do and they are part of the magnetic pull of confusion between what you're seeing and hearing because they can't see his inconsistencies and they are sucked in by his tears, words, and half hearted actions.

~

This is some of the mental noise that has spun around in my head this week:

I know it looks like he waited two weeks to call the counselor until an hour before he and my Dad were going to have a conversation, but I'm sure it was just a coincidence. 

He was told to go to this counselor, but he says he never was told. I'm sure he just forgot, or maybe I didn't actually tell him, or he didn't get that email or the counselor and I were both wrong to think we'd both said it to him. . . 

He's still texting with people I've asked him not to be in contact with. But he says he loves me deeply, will do anything I ask, and can't wait until I choose to come home. He did give me some money to help with expenses like I asked, and he sent me a card last week. 

~

Honestly, this is what I have been recently struggling with. Most of the time, however, in the parts where I defend him, I don't hear actual words in my head but I feel the emotion. And that's why when I actually say it out loud to someone I suddenly see myself as the wife in denial that I am. Before I get the words out, I know how stupid I sound. But it's near impossible to not battle with this.

I've come to learn that it's just something that many betrayed wives deal with. 

It's your job as a wife even if no one else is standing next to your husband to be the one who is still there. So when your position at his side is made unsafe by his actions and you have no choice but to remove yourself, this unnatural placement puts you at continual war with yourself, your mind, with others who don't have all of the information but still use God's Word to rebuke you, others who do have the info and want to remain in denial, and yet others who think you should be taking even a stronger stand than you are already taking.

In addition to all of the hurt you are already feeling, this is a continual internal war zone that is a real threat to your sanity.  So center yourself on God's Word, in prayer, in confessing sin, in desiring to please Him, in waiting on Him to fight the battles for you and to reveal the secrets.

I've been reading a book by Meg Wilson, Hope After Betrayal. She is a fellow betrayed wife (I must come up with a better, victorious term for us women) who writes her story while weaving in the stories of three additional ladies throughout.

This portion was so helpful to me as just earlier in the day I was conflicted yet again by this mind/heart tug of war.

"Write down your husband's behaviors apart from his good intentions, promises, or explanations. What he does is the truth. An addict's words don't mean a thing at this point. The addict wants to keep you in the subjective arena of feelings and emotions. Try to stay in the objective arena of truth. His actions are observable. If he continues in unhealthy behaviors, then he is still unhealthy. .  regardless of the one good thing he might have done last week."  

(Whether you say your husband is an "addict" or "in bondage to sin",  for this quote I believe that they can be interchanged.)

Look to Him:
It is the loving thing to not be naive. It is the godly thing to stand up against sin - especially your husband's sin. Your husband's relationship with God is at stake. God's name is at stake if your husband professes to be one of His children.

When I feel dizzy from being dragged around by his words, my feelings, his actions, and other's opinions on it all, I have to quiet myself and remember that there is One who knows all the secrets of my husband's heart. He sees the way ahead. Even though it is good to hear from a host of godly counsel,  His is the only voice I need to listen completely to. His is the only opinion I should seek hard after. He is the only One who I need to please.

Sweet Hour of Prayer

I had just sent off a difficult email that had to be sent, but one that would not be accepted well. This is something that is generally not only difficult for me to do, but near impossible to survive. My neck was starting to swarm with hot, itchy, raised spots. This is so small to some people but it was a huge step of assertiveness and resisting fear of man for me.

After the deed was done, I just happened (har) to turn on my radio and because today was a Day of Prayer, the station put on a song by Damaris Carbaugh singing Sweet Hour of Prayer. I was surprised by how much the words touched me and were perfect for my minutes of distress today. So as soon as it was done, I bought it on iTunes, listened to it again and bawled.

 So I needed this right then. Thank you, Lord.





Below is a link to the iTunes page 
where you can listen to a snippet of and purchase this beautiful song. 
Damaris Carbaugh - Sweet Hour of Prayer

Sweet hour of prayer! Sweet hour of prayer! 
That calls me from a world of care, 
And bids me at my Father's throne
Make all my wants and wishes known.
In seasons of distress and grief, 
My soul has often found relief
And oft escaped the tempter's snare
By Thy return, sweet hour of prayer! 

Sweet hour of prayer! Sweet hour of prayer! 
The joys I feel, the bliss I share, 
Of those whose anxious spirits burn
With strong desires for Thy return! 
With such I hasten to the place
Where God my Savior shows His face, 
And gladly take my station there, 
And wait for Thee, sweet hour of prayer! 

Sweet hour of prayer! Sweet hour of prayer! 
Thy wings shall my petition bear
To Him whose truth and faithfulness
Engage the waiting soul to bless.
And since He bids me seek His face, 
Believe His Word and trust His grace, I'll cast on Him my every care, 
And wait for Thee, sweet hour of prayer! 

Sweet hour of prayer! Sweet hour of prayer! 
May I Thy consolation share, 
Till, from Mount Pisgah's lofthy height, 
I view my home and take my flight:
This robe of flesh I'll drop and rise
To seize the everlasting prize; 
And shout, while passing through the air, 
"Farewell, farewell, sweet hour of prayer!"

A few years ago Damaris performed at my church during the weekend of Easter. We were invited to join our pastor in taking her out to dinner afterwards. She is a lovely woman. Humble. She looks like Jesus. I love her voice, but more than that, what is inside comes through so clearly and it is beautiful. 

Believe

"Blessed is she who believed that the Lord would fulfill His promises to her."

~ Luke 1:45 ~

The Day Cinderella's Castle Crumbled

I can’t say exactly where it started, or exactly when I was aware of it, but I do remember the date that my world was jolted severely by it.

On Tuesday August 23, 2011, I woke up from a short night’s sleep and saw that my husband, Jack, was in bed next to me. Normally he would have been getting ready for work by now, but here he was. I figured last night had been a rough night since he didn’t come home before I decided to go to bed. A phone call in the evening had caused him to head to church because of an “issue with a teen”. My husband was a youth pastor and phone calls like this late at night, I'm ashamed to say, annoyed me as much as they concerned me.

Jack left and I waited. The hours rolled on. Sometime close to midnight, I decided to go to bed. Nausea rolled around in my stomach as I tried to push the what-if’s out of my mind. Little did I know that nausea would be my continual friend for an undetermined amount of time.

Jack sat up. I was dying to know yet simultaneously dreading the news. I asked him what had happened and he told me to get up and go to the bathroom and be sure I was awake to hear what he had to say.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” 

“Yes.”

My hands trembled and butterflies roared inside me.  I felt sick. This was going to be unusually bad. Either one of our teens had gotten in serious trouble or someone had died. I came back and sat on the bed trying, in futility, to brace my heart for what was going to happen in the next few minutes.

From that moment on, my life was forever changed.

To preface the worst of the blow, my husband first quietly revealed his struggle with gay pornography. It had started when he was 13 and continued on until that day. Twenty years of gay pornography.

Twenty years.

He continued to explain, to my horror, a situation that resulted in a report made to the police office and subsequently to our church. He had inappropriately touched one of the teen boys in our youth group and if the parents chose, he could be jailed and forever be labeled a sex offender.

He cried and my first natural response was one of pity and compassion. His ministry was over. I was in shock. I didn’t really know much about pornography, I didn’t understand the details of what he did with the teenager. I just knew that he looked broken and he was scared to death that he would end up in jail. I was numb and I didn’t know what to do with myself. He said that in a few minutes his parents would be over to the house and he was going to be telling his mother for the first time and that maybe I’d like to be out of the house for that.

So thankfully I had an objective task ahead of me. I became robotic. It was the only way to survive my following seconds of life.

Pull myself together. Get some clothes on. Get our 23-month-old son together. Mix a bottle. Get the stroller. Head outside before I see his parents.

Already a thick dark covering of shame had started to roll over me. Don’t look anyone in the eye. Escape. Hide. Don’t let anyone see you because you are shameful.

I wasn’t fast enough and before I knew it, his parents were walking into the house. Dad knew what had happened already, but I pitied Mom. She had gotten ready, and waited the 10-minute drive knowing that she was about to hear something that would shatter her life.

I was so mechanical that I walked right past her on my way of escape before I thought to say hello and give her a hug. Turning back around, I leaned over and hugged her as she sat on the couch waiting for the bomb to hit. I could only say “hi, Mom.” 

Jack started talking as I slipped out the door. 

I had walked our neighborhood before. Many times. This time I was a zombie. My muscles were moving, but I didn’t know where I was going. Muddled and unable to process, my brain was not registering what I had just been told. I was so jolted I couldn’t take it in. Our lives were going to be spent in ministry and in a matter of three minutes that had all changed. Like a record that kept skipping, my brain could not move on and accept the new life that I was staring at. Like losing a loved one and not knowing how to function or even imagine life without them, I kept thinking, “this can’t be happening”. . .“this can’t be true.”

My husband. This is the man that would deliberately look the other way when we walked by a Victoria Secret store just so that I would be assured that he wasn’t going to enjoy anything but me. This is the man who other women would refer to as a wonderful man. He was a man of high integrity. “You can just tell that he really really loves you. I wish I had that in my marriage,” I heard numerous times.

I texted a close friend: “Please pray for us.”

I remember the realization hitting me so hard I couldn’t believe it was really me, here, now, dealing with this.  “I can’t believe this is my life.”  “We are one of those people . . . the couples that other people talk about in hushed voices in conversations that end with, “so sad” or “I can’t believe it.”  I am one of those wives. We are the people who shame the Lord’s name publicly. We are a news broadcaster’s poster child for the sham of Christianity.”

My prayers were mostly short sentences. One I prayed on my walk still crosses my lips many nights, “Hold me together.”

I never doubted God’s care for us or His goodness. I may have asked Him “why?” but as soon as it left my lips, I knew it was an emotional and fruitless question. I knew the answer to that one. Sin. Fallen world. It was not God’s doing but His allowing. I only desired His help and sustaining power. I needed Him to be close to just get me through this awful day.

I remember trying not to be too emotional thinking that my neighbors could be watching, so I walked on very slowly, in shock, staring at my son peacefully drinking his bottle. Then I got a text from Jack. “I’m done, you can come back.”

I turned the stroller around.

If I had known what lay ahead in the months to come, I might not have headed back home. But God was there with me. Holding me then, guiding me as I walked and lovingly writing His plans for the rest of my life.