I Just Wanted the Truth

I just wanted the truth.  I felt like Satan was deceiving my husband, my husband was deceiving me, and I was deceiving everyone.

Sunday mornings, I’d wear extra makeup to hide the circles under my eyes so that I could still circulate at church.  One of our members said I shook more hands than the mayor, and I loved it. I loved being a pastor’s wife. I genuinely cared about the church and the lives of its members.  If during my rounds, some sweet soul did notice my tired eyes, they attributed it to the pregnancy, and I let them. If I was extra emotional during worship, they probably figured that was due to pregnancy too, and I didn’t correct them.  

Monday through Friday, I covered the younger two boys’ baseball schedules while my husband helped coach the oldest son’s school soccer team.  We would cross over to the other sport when able, and we would divide and conquer. It’s what we’d done for years with multiple kids in sports.  Except this year, I didn’t feel like a conqueror. I felt defeated. I felt like a shell of a person sitting there, cheering my babies on outwardly while inwardly trying to sort and push away my wayward thoughts.  I was tired and confused and afraid. And I knew God was not the author of any of that. 

 Come to me all who are weary
and burdened
and I will give you rest.”
Matthew 11:28
“God is not the author of confusion.”
1 Corinthians 14:33
“For he has not given us a spirit of fear
but of power and of love and of sound mind.”
2 Timothy 1:7

What I was feeling wasn’t of God.  None of this was of God.  

In Satan’s roaming the earth, seeking whom he may devour (1 Peter 5:8), he happened upon us apparently.  I believe he went after my marriage and family with intention to tear down a ministry and try to ruin a church that, under my husband’s leadership, was going deeper in the Word and mobilizing outside the walls of the church to serve the community.  Did the serpent come in as Hell on wheels, obvious and apparent? No. That’s not his M.O. He’s a deceiver. The father of lies (John 8:44). He lurks around waiting for a time of weakness, slips in subtly, and gives you just enough truth that you start believing his tale and questioning what you think you know (Genesis 3:1-3).  Doubts lead to isolation. Isolation leads to sin. Sin leads to death (James 1:15). Maybe not physical death, but have you ever watched the light go out of someone’s eyes? It is tragic.  

Do I now, on this side of it, think Satan’s attack had started just three months prior, as I thought at the time?  No. I regret being so busy or whatever I may have been that I missed the start of it. While I will not accept fault for his decision to violate our vows, I do see that I was not a perfect wife.  I hate having anything to regret, but when I prayed to see truth, God didn’t exempt me from seeing my part. I made much of things that matter little in eternity, and I took for granted things that I didn’t even realize I was taking for granted till they were gone.  

If I had read my Bible as much the entirety of the marriage as I had since the concerns started, perhaps I would have been more discerning. If I had covered my husband in prayer the way I’d done the past few months, maybe Satan could not have gotten to him as easily.  If I’d been intentional about encouraging my husband in his ministry and every area of life, maybe he would not have been in whatever mental place allowed him to buy into what Satan sold him. The Lord knows I loved my husband, and I tried harder to make sure he knew that.  

At the time though, it didn’t seem to matter.  Any effort I made was unnoticed or unwanted. I knew we could not go on this way and that his mental struggle could lead to a physical affair.  My relentless gut said it already had. Nothing else would explain the change in physical affection, the lack of eye contact, the extra time it was taking to make quick trips to the store or to drop the kids off at school, moving the device screen or closing a window when I came near.  I could not shake it nor could I prove it, and I was getting crazy enough to try. I was checking the computer history and insisting on locator apps on our phones. I was desperate for the truth even if it hurt me.  

And it did.  Wrecked me even.  About six weeks after the conversation in the van, every instinct I had was confirmed.  The truth was out. And it was brutal.  

In your majesty
ride forth victoriously 
in behalf of truth…
Psalm 45:4