The only thing that was left of our picture perfect marriage was glass shards. The seemingly petty heart issues that we entered marriage with had destroyed us. A week before Angel (her words will be italicized) confessed her infidelity, she contracted the flu, bronchitis and then walking pneumonia. Picking up on the language of James, the Danish theologian, Soren Kierkegaard calls sin “the sickness unto death.” God’s hand was heavy on Angel. She had beat her fists against his chest, but he would not stop pursuing her. That January he laid her out. Her spiritual sickness was manifested physically. God would not relent.
Unable to get out of bed, I just so happened to pick up John Piper’s ‘This Momentary Marriage’ to look for answers. It was yet another means of sweet conviction God used to pursue my heart. Against my better judgment, I was serving as a ministry fellow for a campus ministry at Princeton University. They were on their winter retreat in upstate New York. We received a call from my Director who was concerned by my sickness. He asked if we would be able to come up, even just to have them pray over us. There was no reason for him to ask us to do that. There was no reason for us to say yes. We said yes.
We got our kids in the car and drove, Angel nearly comatose next to me. We pulled in and walked straight into the back of the main room where the evening session had just begun. After a few minutes Angel was shaking and sweating next to me. Then tears began to flow.
I knew I had to break the power the lies held over me. I felt compelled by God to live in truth. I had been trapped by the fear of losing John and our kids. But my fear of God ultimately trumped my fear of losing my family. With all of my being, I realized that my only hope was in trusting God with everything while being willing to lose it all. I was broken.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“No” I mouthed. “I’ve been having an affair.”
My body went numb.