My husband held out his phone, showing me a text he had received from our pastor. He didn’t understand what it meant. It was the day after he accepted Jesus Christ as his Saviour. A fellow church member had asked our pastor if he had warned my husband about the spiritual attacks he was likely to face in the coming days. Apparently, this other man’s new found freedom and salvation had been immediately assaulted and he was concerned that my husband be prepared and on his guard for the same thing.
I read the words and my heart dropped right to my feet. Right to the instruments I would be using in two more days to crush his open and vulnerable spirit. He was about to be blindsided by my disclosure. At our next counselling session, I would confess my affair to him. Yes, I understood about spiritual attacks. I also sickeningly realized that his spiritual attack would be coming from me. I looked up at his confused and fearful face. And I tried to be strong and encouraging for both of us. I don’t think it worked.
My husband was an emotional mess that week. He had been preparing his disclosure with our therapist for our session and was very anxious about my reaction and the outcome. We had attempted a casual date night at home the evening before. It was obvious that it was more than the jigsaw puzzle causing his agitation. He was distraught over the looming revelations of his sexual sin the next day, and of hurting me even more. I did my best to reassure him that it would be okay. I was pretty certain that part would be. Our therapist had indicated that it was doubtful I would hear anything from him that would be newly traumatizing. So I was a little baffled at how troubled he was. But also moved by his concern for me and the brokenness I was witnessing.
My husband was the genuine picture of remorse that every sexually betrayed partner wants to see. Only at that moment, I didn’t really want to see it. If he had tears in his eyes now, how would I bear the look on his face the next day when he learned of my adultery? How would he?
That evening was emotionally brutal. Because of the progress in my husband’s recovery, he was beginning to believe that I was a miracle and a gift. Profound sadness had overtaken me, mixed in with a hefty dose of shame and guilt. I was not a miracle. I was not a gift. I was a cheating wife.
I was also extremely worried and afraid that my survival mechanisms would kick in, my emotions would retreat and shut down, and I would appear cold and unfeeling during my disclosure. I was so fearful of my remorse not being clearly apparent, that I had been praying all week that I would cry during my confession. At the very least, that my voice would be quivery. I was sure it would seem like I didn’t even care about the wounds the discovery of my affair would cause. Or the feelings of betrayal he would surely experience from keeping my disclosure hidden from him while he was distressed about his.
It was a night of heaviness and secrets. Of darkness about to meet light. And yet neither of us knowing if the light would be bright enough to overcome the raw, palpable pain.
What we did know was that we were in this battle together. We intentionally chose to spend the evening before the disclosure(s) dating each other. Neither of us had the energy or desire to leave our home for a date, but nevertheless we ordered takeout, watched Netflix, completed a jigsaw puzzle of a fluffy white kitten and desperately clung to hope. Together.
Hope and faith was all we had, as faint as it was. But Jesus tells us that if we have faith the size of a mustard seed mountains will move. We had two mountains. And two mustard seeds. Also a prayer team that, unbeknownst to each other, had been assembled by each of us reaching out to members of our support systems.
We ended our evening sharing feelings from our day, giving each other praises, and most importantly, holding hands and praying together. I don’t remember the words that were said, but God does. He heard them. The prayers from our hearts were enough. We did not have to fight this battle on our own.
But you will not even need to fight. Take your positions; then stand still and watch the Lord’s victory. He is with you, O people of Judah and Jerusalem. Do not be afraid or discouraged. Go out against them tomorrow, for the Lord is with you! 2 Chronicles 20:17