True Confessions

"Above all else, guard your heart, 

 for everything you do flows from it." 

Proverbs 4:23

"What have you learned about yourself?" my therapist asked me after I'd spewed for half an hour about the insanity that has been my life of late.

The answer came easily -- "I now know I'm capable of anything." 

That's no positive affirmation; it's my confession that given the right (or wrong) set of circumstances, I am capable of doing things I never thought I'd do...like setting aside my moral compass for some moments of deep emotional connection with the wrong person at the wrong time...like allowing my pain to rule me to the point of overriding the deep love of Jesus which I *thought* had saturated my soul. But I have to ask myself if my soul had been truly saturated with His love, how could I fall so fast, so hard, and so deep? 

Before imaginations start swirling, let me be clear -- this wasn't physical. (But if I'm truly capable of anything, then I'm grateful we didn't live anywhere near each other. *shudder*)

What I did -- which is at least as bad, if not worse --  was give my heart away. I'm not proud of it; I'm also not going to hide in a shroud of shame. I'm sharing this story because ALL of us can be vulnerable to this kind of thing, hence the admonition in Proverbs to guard our hearts. If your response is, "That would never happen to me," then be forewarned because I would have said the same thing. The prophet Jeremiah wasn't wrong when he said, "The human heart is deceitful." Self-deception can be quite stealthy and I'm pretty sure I'm not the only person to have been found in its grip. 

"WTF were you thinking?" I hear (some of) you ask.

Thinking? I wasn't. Tender words of deep emotion felt like warm oil to my raw, parched soul and completely uncorked my heart, and I began to take steps down a road upon which I never should have set foot...saying things that never should have been said...fanning flames that never should have been lit. And while it takes two to tango, it only takes one to stop the dance, and I chose not to so I only have myself to blame. 

I think most of my readers know that my marriage has been going through a rough time for a long time...it's been a four-year roller coaster ride of ups and downs and backs and forths. We separated three years ago and came within two weeks of officially divorcing but then we reconciled. The past two years have been a crazy time of trying to find our footing in this new-but-not-entirely-new marriage. We both made a lot of mistakes along the way. We both guarded our hearts in the WRONG way -- from each other -- and the walls were getting thicker and harder to permeate. We were both trying to express love, and neither one of us was able to really receive it. We both experienced times of extreme doubt about whether or not we could make this marriage work. There was a lot of unresolved pain on both sides, and some things came to a head for me a few months ago where I felt the need to move out for a short while, but that turned into a longer while of some serious soul-searching. I wrote about that HERE.

Unfortunately after I wrote that piece, reality hit me between the eyes and I had a literal panic attack (my first one) as I was packing up to move back home. All of my doubts were swirling around me, and I wound up going through the motions, scared to verbalize even to myself how I was really feeling. This set me up to be completely "unarmed" for what was about to occur.

But here is the really cool thing: in this mess -- in the face of a wife who was turning away from him -- my husband rose up and took a stand...for himself, for me, and for our marriage. He confronted the other man, he confronted me, he confronted himself. "And the walls came a-tumbling down." I saw, maybe for the first time, just how much he loves me, and just how much he does want to fight for us, and it gave me renewed strength to want to try again. While I know theologically that I didn't have to sin, I also know that sometimes it takes something awful to make something good happen, like when a town finally puts up a traffic light in an intersection after a fatal accident. Bob Bennett wrote about this HERE in his new blog. (I have always loved the honesty and transparency in his songs; now I am loving the same qualities in his writing.)

I have had to come face to face with my frailty and weakness, the deep longings I hadn't allowed Jesus to fill, and my complete failure to stop all of this from happening because deep down I didn't actually want it to stop. We all know that sin feels good in the moment and this felt really, really good. But at what cost? Broken hearts and shattered relationships and pain all the way around. And even with all the beauty that is rising from the ashes as we move forward in forgiveness, I do know the ends never justify the means. If any good is coming out of this mess it's because of the incredible mercy of God, who is all about redemption and reconciliation. Romans 8:28 is alive and well, but surely I do not deserve this grace.

So I write this with a bowed heart at the feet of Jesus, much like the woman who broke open her alabaster jar of perfume to anoint Jesus' feet and then washed them with her tears. All I can offer right now is tears and snot and raised hands of surrender, trusting in this amazing God who loves me so much that He gave His Son to die for my sins. Jesus said of that woman, “I tell you, her sins—and they are many—have been forgiven, so she has shown me much love. But a person who is forgiven little shows only little love" (Luke 7:47).

It is my fervent prayer that because of all of this my life will show more love, and that my worship will become even more extravagant because of the Lord's lavish mercy and forgiveness.

More than 20 years ago my hero, Amy Grant, was bold enough to write and record "Faithless Heart" which speaks to me now more than ever. I encourage all of us to listen to it as a prayer that we will continually guard our hearts and stay faithful.

I want to end with a song of hope. We sang it last Sunday in church, and all I could do was weep; God is truly making Beautiful Things out of the dust. You might not be dealing with an emotional affair in your marriage, but most likely you're dealing with *something* that feels like rubble. We all have disappointments, hurt and pain in our lives. God is in the business of healing broken hearts, this I know. So as I post these final lyrics, I am praying for all of you to know in a deeper way that He is in the process of making beautiful things come forth in your lives. And as you read and/or listen to these lyrics, please offer up a prayer for us, too.

Beautiful Things (by Michael Gungor)
All this pain
I wonder if I'll ever find my way
I wonder if my life could really change at all

All this earth
Could all that is lost ever be found
Could a garden come up from this ground at all

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

All around
Hope is springing up from this old ground
Out of chaos life is being found in You

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

You make me new
You are making me new
You make me new
You are making me new