Tag: Adultery

The Twenty-Seventh List
affair recovery · marriage

The Twenty-Seventh List

Jacquelyn Sill17 Comments

The Twenty-Seventh ListTomorrow is the day of our Twenty-Seventh Wedding Anniversary. For 10 months I’ve wondered what this day will feel like. There has been a list of reasons why this day was to be dreaded.

After any crisis, when we encounter holidays, birthdays and anniversaries, there is added weight to the calendar. We learned about this nearly two decades ago after our daughter died. When we were in the beginning stages of grieving, her birthday didn’t just arrive. It occurred in extremes. As we moved closer to the date, with no party to plan, our mood shifted downward. Then there was the mind-blowing low as we acknowledged the reality that our nineteen-month old would never age, accompanied by a calm peace as we (somehow) survived this knowledge. Throughout the actual date of her birthday, friends and family reached out and demonstrated their love to us, and we were catapulted to a high. Their acts of kindness lifting us heavenward, towards her. Towards Him.

This crisis of marital infidelity takes out stones and lodges them at my calendar. A heavy awareness of broken vows weighs me down when I think of my wedding anniversary. My own mind throws the stones, and each stone tears a hole in the calendar, as if it is trying to rip the 18th of December from time and erase it completely.

You see, when we celebrate we are essentially saying, “Good job!” After an affair, do we utter such an absurdity? It feels false. It feels as authentic as congratulating a drunk driver for surviving a collision. Sitting here, the day before our Anniversary, my mind reels at the thought of how we will navigate through the day.

Overhead clouds roll in and respond to my aching heart. As the dark rain clouds release themselves, everything slows down for a few hours. I look out the window and watch as the desert ground absorbs the moisture, and I wonder if this year, this horribly-hard-year, is to be the defining year for our marriage. Will the betrayal of last year absorb itself into our lives for good? There are twenty-seven years to consider, but it seems as if it all comes back to this horribly-hard-year.

I find myself trying to remember something significant from each year we’ve been married. There has to be more to our marriage than this horribly-hard-year. If this is the sum of it all then let the stones have their way and rip this date from the existence of time. Without a verbal prompt, I grab a dry-erase marker and board. I begin to make a list.

I list memorable moments in our marriage. I try to think of everything that may stand out in each of the twenty-seven years. I use a calculator to keep track of the years and the ages of our children. Over the course of the afternoon, I continue listing small, somewhat meaningless events and activities.

I am making what I call The Twenty-Seventh List, but I stop before I’ve reached the end. I am afraid to list anything from the horribly-hard-year. Our marriage is made up of so much more than what we’ve been living through lately.

The Twenty-Seventh List: (an overview)

I note the times we have relocated because of ministry. Three weeks after our wedding, rather than taking a job where we could stay near family, we began our marriage by relocating to another state and taking the responsibility of a full time ministry position. It was just the two of us and we were beyond frightened, but we believed that God would provide us a community and life in the unfamiliar land.

I note the homes we have bought together; there were four. My husband and I have survived escrow together on four occasions–surely that alone is worth some type of celebration.

I note the animals who have been a part of our family. Dogs & cats, turtles & fish–too many to disclose. The names of each animal bringing about a memory that causes a grin or a grimace. Which memory was the most heartbreaking? It’s a tie between, Sami-girl, everyone’s favorite poodle mix who disappeared one Fourth of July, and Maximas the black Godfather cat who was run down in front of our home on Christmas Eve.

I note the four greatest blessings to ever grace the home of an undeserving couple.  In the seventh year of our marriage, for a short amount of time, we lived in a household with all four of our children. Everyone was born and no one had died. Every night there were four little bodies to feed and bathe. Jammies had feet, cups had lids, and everyone had a blankie. We were aware that time was fleeting, but we weren’t aware that everyone’s clock wasn’t set to the same timer.

I note the day our daughter died. Passion turned to depression. Pain turned to more pain. Hard turned to perseverance.

I note the bicycles, scooters and cars given as gifts. The dance attire and graduation gowns. The California Missions projects, photo shoots, and science fair failures. I note the piano lessons gone wrong and baseball games gone well. I note the yard sales, overseas missions trips, and sleepovers. I note the wedding engagements and the evolving nature of our still extending family.

I note the day our daughter told us we were to be grandparents. An unexpected fear had come over me when she shared her news. I knew what it felt like to love and lose a child. For her to love greatly would mean that one day she may hurt greatly.

I note the look on our granddaughter’s face two weeks ago. When this little one came to visit, she knew us. This little perfect girl knew her Papa and Mimi.

10448699_10152640953166970_4820699958563815258_oHere’s the thing. Not one good thing on the list makes the whole of our marriage anymore than any one failure makes the whole of our marriage. To survive this horribly-hard-year we are reliant on grace. To survive any marriage, the players are reliant on grace. A wedding anniversary is a day to celebrate a series of days where two people were successful at treating one another with more grace than either one deserved. This year we are celebrating twenty-seven years of failures and successes. Neither being more significant than the other. Our failures have worked their own good, in the same way that our successes have been stumbling blocks.

Tomorrow is the day of our Twenty-Seventh Wedding Anniversary. For 10 months I’ve wondered what this day will feel like. There is a list of reasons why this day is to be celebrated.

Unexpected Visitors at Christmas
spiritual growth

Unexpected Visitors at Christmas

Jacquelyn Sill2 Comments

MV5BMTI1OTExNTU4NF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwMzIwMzQyMQ@@._V1_SY317_CR5,0,214,317_AL_Mention Cousin Eddie to anyone who has seen National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation and there will be immediate sympathy for the trials of having an uninvited and unexpected house guest at Christmastime. Along with other classic scenes, the iconic movie, which celebrates it’s 25th Anniversary this year, highlights some of the inconveniences Clark Griswold faces when Cousin Eddie and his family arrive unannounced at the Griswold home.

Even if we have never had an unplanned house guest at Christmastime, we can relate to the hardship we see unfold in the comedy. It’s hard not to chuckle when the redneck cousin arrives in his RV and parks it in front of the Griswold’s soon-to-be brightly lit home. While we don’t know the exact details of what is going to unfold, we know it will bring Clark to his knees in frustration. While I have never experienced anything remotely close to what the Griswold family faced, I have had a few visitors at Christmastime. Unfortunately, they weren’t laughable, and I had no guarantee they would be leaving when the mistletoe came down.

In the days of Christmas past, I was visited by “Grief” at Christmastime, and it was the hardest season in my life.

On the last day of January in 1995 our third born child, our daughter Molly, died suddenly and unexpectedly in her sleep. Our family woke one morning, and Molly did not. Our nineteen-month-old angel was gone in an instant, and needless to say, we were in disbelief. Once the mind-numbing shock lifted we were left devastated. It was a searing pain that still burns deep.

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Like the Walking Dead, we moved through the year until eventually the Christmas season arrived. My husband and I were both hurting, and I wanted nothing to do with traditional festivities.

When I glanced at the Christmas tree, sparkling lights would dance off the glass ornaments, and I would begin to feel something shift in my heart. With that shift there was pain.  I heard songs I had heard my entire life, but with the dagger of Grief piercing my heart they sounded different: whimsical words wounded like weaponry.

The problem was– even though we were grieving our child who had died, we were still parents to three children who lived and they were ripe to learn about the baby born in manger. We had a bouncing baby boy, and two children ages six and four who needed to hear the tales of the Inn that was too full, of Shepherds in the fields, and of Wise Men bearing gifts. Whether or not we were sad, these precious little ones were still anticipating the arrival of Santa Clause. There were Christmas pageants to attend, presents to be wrapped, and cookies to be decorated. While I may have been fine with skipping Christmas, there were others who would have been dreadfully disappointed.

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Looking back, we see now that the problem was actually the blessing.

Experiencing Christmas with Grief was doing a work in our hearts. There is no way to lose a child and not feel complete devastation. One of the temptations to avoid feeling that overwhelming sense of loss is to avoid “feeling” anything. It becomes a trade that seems to make sense at the time: close off the part of your heart that feels good in order to protect the part of your heart that hurts.

Closing ourselves off from good is one of the worst lies the enemy tells us.  When I looked at the Christmas tree and felt the shift in my heart, the enemy wanted me to believe that if I diverted my eyes from the dancing lights, I wouldn’t be reminded of Molly’s playful ways and I wouldn’t hurt. When Christmas carols sounded like battle cries, the enemy would have taken pleasure in my covering my ears rather than hearing a salute to the Newborn King.

God was allowing me to feel these things, not as a punishment, but because He knew things I didn’t know. Experiencing Christmas without my child hurt worse than anything I had ever imagined, but God knew this pain was bringing a new kind of strength. And He knew this pain would not destroy me.

He also knew it would not last. God’s lens is more broad than we can imagine. He is not limited to only what has happened and what is happening, but He is privy to what will one day happen. He was not limited to only seeing the Christmas of 1995; He saw every other Christmas as well. He knew I would make it if I just would just persevere through it. And He knew that walking through grief, and feeling the grief was the only way out.

This year, much like an unwanted house guest, Regret has come calling.

Regret is the cousin of Grief. They are not directly related–but they are so similar they behave like they are from the same family. At times, the difference is subtle.  A person can experience deep Grief, and have little or no Regret, but it is difficult to have Regret and not have Grief.

Regret will sometimes spend time with Repentance. When Regret is with Repentance, he is not only bearable–he is welcome. When Regret leads to Repentance there is a gratitude for their arrival. Opening the door and seeing Regret and Repentance arriving together is a welcome sight. In these moments, we light a fire and bring out the good wine. These two together help to restore relationships and build hope in the family.

The problem is Regret will often overstay his welcome.

In these longer visits Regret pulls us backwards into “what might have been” and “what I should have done.”

  • Regret slyly offers a box wrapped in bright paper and tied up with a red bow.  When it is opened there are memories of Christmas’ past–but along with the memories there is a card that reads, “you took all of these things for granted…”
  • Regret calls the household to play a game of charades and then taunts its players with romantic notions of a perfect life.  If things had been done differently “All Would Be Well.”

Lingering Regret is often unrealistic and tells a multitude of lies, and living with Regret is hard on all members of the household. Even those who did not give permission for Regret to stay in their home suddenly have to deal with the mood swings and the depression Regret brings.

Sill Tree 2014

Like Cousin Eddie was drawn to Clark, Regret is trying to stay with me through this Holiday season. He’s smelly and unpleasant; he’s sleeping on my couch and leaving his dirty dishes in my sink.  He is judgmental and harsh, and I really want this guest to leave. But, Regret doesn’t want to go away. It seems Regret is hell-bent on spending Christmas in my heart.

I think of how differently Regret speaks to me when he visits with Repentance. Without Repentance, Regret is just an unpleasant feeling. With Repentance, Regret is forced to behave differently. The only way I am going to make it through this season is by inviting Repentance into each day. Regret pretends he likes to be accompanied by Repentance, but in reality he would much rather have the stage to himself. Without Repentance, he is the star. With Repentance nearby, conversations move from judgement to mercy. The set is changed and the story is no longer about Regret, but about Redemption through Christ. With Repentance nearby the lies of Regret lose their power.

The thing is, Repentance will always wait for an invitation.

Repentance simply will not come uninvited or empty handed. Upon being invited he will arrive swiftly, and he will bring lavish foods that will leave you full from your tummy to your toes.  And best of all, Repentance will bring along his brother, Restoration. When invited into your home, Repentance and Restoration make the drawn out visit from Regret easier to endure, because while Regret focuses on the past, Restoration is looking to the future.

Regret’s romantic tales of opportunities lost have less power over us when Restoration is part of the story.

Much like Christmas of 1995 when the problem became the blessing, 2014 is calling for a shift in perspective. I long for Regret to leave my household. He says, “No.” Because Regret refuses to leave, I rely on Repentance to see me through each day.  Repentance comes swiftly, bringing the blessing of Restoration. The problem becomes the blessing.

A Husband’s Choice
affair recovery

A Husband’s Choice

Jacquelyn Sill10 Comments

My husband stood at the front of the hall, looking handsome in a dark jacket as he made last minute preparations for a ceremony he would soon officiate. The room was filled with about twenty formal dining tables, and guests were trickling in and finding their assigned seats. I found my place at table #5, glanced around the room and finally allowed my eyes to settle on the beautiful sunset coming to life outside the large windows.  As I waited for the ceremony to begin, a lighthearted conversation developed between myself and a woman seated to my left. We mentioned the weather, commented on the decor, and complimented the other on her accessories.

And then the conversation shifted. You know what I am talking about: We unintentionally found ourselves in a meaningful conversation which pulled strangers beyond the guest list and into a spiritual and transformational moment.

Somehow in a conversation about why my husband and I relocated from California to Arizona, the topic of my infidelity came up. (This is where my closest friends shake their heads and mutter, “…of course it did.” )  My willingness to talk openly and be transparent about what has transpired in my life over the last year may seem like an oddity to some, but I have come to learn that while I am in the minority of those who talk about what we are going through, I am (sadly) not in the minority of those who have gone through it.

After I had shared with the woman at my table about my infidelity there was a little awkwardness. It happens. I am learning to be okay with that uncomfortable moment, because I remind myself that the person is processing what has been shared. Their inner conflict has little to do with me and much more to do with their own story. I don’t know their story, and I work hard to not guess what it may hold. I’ve received messages and have had conversations with people who have been unfaithful, people who have been betrayed, and adult children who have watched their parents navigate this path.

For this particular woman it took about ten minutes before she opened up and began to share. She leaned in and whispered, “How did your husband let it go?”

Following her initial question came her story. She shared the details of a familiar storyline that included betrayal and heartbreak.  Even though I’ve had other interactions with women whose husbands have been unfaithful, I am always awestruck. It amazes me that this woman didn’t throw water in my face, accuse me of being a “woman-like-that”, and move to another table. What draws a woman who has been betrayed to seek community with a woman who once betrayed?

She related how her husband’s actions were still affecting her. It had been several years since the affair had happened and ended, and she couldn’t let it go. She couldn’t walk away from the wounded place of disbelief. And living in that place where she had been wounded had transformed her into an angry woman. She admitted that she treated her husband differently than every other person in her life.

She shared how slowly, over time her husband had become the target of all her disappointment. Her rage and her anger were consistently aimed at him. At one point she asked, “How did your husband stop that from happening? How did he move forward and forgive you?”

It was frightening to hear the details of the way her anger was affecting her marriage. It was even more frightening that she was asking me for input. She was asking me a new question. She was asking me how my husband had navigated this journey. My heart pounded a little differently as I told her simply and honestly, “I don’t know if I can answer that for you.”

And my answer made me feel a new wave of shame.

My selfishness did not end with the affair. As I had been so focused on my own discovery and path to recovery, I had failed to ask my husband a basic question. Why did his forgiveness come so quickly? We have talked about a lot of things he has experienced, but I had never asked him that particular question.

During my affair my husband was an unhappy man. He was lonely, and he felt an isolation he didn’t understand. For over half of his life I had been his partner and his best friend. During this brutal time he felt more alone than any other time in his life. He couldn’t comprehend what the root of the problem could be or what to do to bridge the ever widening gap between us. Even when we were together, I was absent. The more he would try to engage me, the more I would pull away.

After the affair was disclosed he saw hope. He immediately understood his own sense of isolation and abandonment. Things he was questioning and witnessing with his own eyes suddenly made sense. There was a freedom that came to him in the knowledge of the truth because it meant he was not losing his mind.

Anymore, my husband and I don’t spend a lot of time talking about what our marriage was like during the affair. I ache for my husband when he has a reminder of that time period. At this point in our marriage, there is only death in going back to that place. Life comes with everything that has followed since the affair.

This was an “after-the-affair” question; maybe it would be life giving to talk about it. It made me feel selfish that it hadn’t been discussed to the point in which I could answer the woman’s question easily, so my motivation for asking him was also to break any barrier that may still exist between us.

After a few days, I finally worked through my own pride, shame and guilt and breached the question to my husband, “How did you forgive me for everything so easily?”  As soon as the words “so easily” had rolled off my tongue, I was filled with regret.

  • How in the hell would I know how easy or how difficult it was for him to forgive me?
  • Can I read his heart?
  • Had I been assuming it wasn’t hard for him to forgive me?

The entirety of that conversation cannot be shared in one blog post, because honestly–it’s still happening. That was the first of an ongoing dialog about forgiveness.

My embarrassment over having used the term “so easily”, and my profuse apologies for assuming it was easy made us both aware that there is a difference between something being done easily verses something being done quickly.

Just because someone does something quickly and intentionally does not mean it was done easily.

In 2008 there was a video surfing the internet. It was filmed during a Women’s Collegiate 600 Meter race where Heather Dorniden was the favored frontrunner. During the first 200 meters of the race the commentators are generous in their appreciation of her style and the likelihood of her win.

Then Heather falls.

What happens to Heather immediately after she falls is almost not even on the screen. The cameras are moving with the runners who didn’t fall, but at the edge of the screen you can see Heather get up and start running immediately. She does not hesitate even for one minute.

She runs hard and fierce and she not only catches up to the other runners, but she passes them. She races like a winner, and rightfully so, because in a photo finish…she wins. Had she not gotten up, she would not have finished. Had she hesitated to get up for one second, she would not have won.  Victory came to her because she responded quickly.

The day my husband learned his wife was guilty of the worst kind of betrayal, he had to make a choice: quick & hard or slow & harder. Because that’s one of the realities about an unforgiving heart. What starts as hard, will oftentimes become harder. And in the same way that hard can transition to harder, the difficulty continues to transform. Eventually slow & harder can evolve into something far worse: never & bitter.

When the word “bitter” comes up, my husband is quick to identify his desire to stay far away from bitterness as being a huge influence. He has difficulty remembering exactly what his thoughts were to break it down completely. He says it was love. He knows it was the Holy Spirit.  Whatever the motivation, it appears as though my husband made a quick choice to forgive me on the first day he learned of my infidelity.

But I am not sure that’s what really happened.

The more I’ve considered the patterns of his life, the more certain I am that my husband made the choice to run a race with a grace-filled forgiving mindset long before his wife was unfaithful. Long before his wife had an affair he had allowed himself to be transformed into someone who would choose grace and forgiveness. The decision came quickly because the decision had already been made.

He was intentional with forgiveness because grace was part of the nature he had been striving towards long before it was needed. He was ready to run in the way that was most Christlike. He was ready to run in a way that would make us both stronger so we might both cross the finish line.

 

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Elle est Forte: Proverbs 31 and the Adulteress
affair recovery · spiritual growth

Elle est Forte: Proverbs 31 and the Adulteress

Jacquelyn Sill19 Comments
I am a Pastor’s wife who was caught in adultery. After my affair was announced publicly I made a deal with my Bible:

I would read diligently, study regularly, and memorize its passages consistently. I would ponder on the wanderings of the children of Israel and the mishaps of the multiple Kings. I would take special notice of the failure of King David and the purpose of Queen Esther. I would sit at the feet of Jesus, witness the resurrection, and follow Paul into the prisons. The only thing I asked in return from my bulky, leather bound friend was to guard and shield me from ever again having to read about the Proverbs 31 Woman.

Prior to my public moral failure, I found no offense in reading of her ways. I wasn’t crazy about the busyness of her days, but I understood the list of her attributes to be a call for women strive for a life of valor.  In the summer of 2012 when I read the blog post, Women of Valor by Rachel Held Evens, I shouted–“eshet chayil”! I hoped that somewhere in the 21 verse poem there was room for me.

Then I allowed my sinful desires to take control of my life and lead me down the path of destruction.

Proverbs 31 speaks of a wife who is honorable. It speaks of a husband who is blessed by her. Her husband has full confidence in her, because she brings good into his life. She is not burdened with self-inflicted shame, has no fears for her future, and has the ability to provide wisdom to others: 

“A wife of noble character who can find?
    She is worth far more than rubies.
Her husband has full confidence in her
    and lacks nothing of value.

…She is clothed with strength and dignity;
    she can laugh at the days to come.
She speaks with wisdom,
    and faithful instruction is on her tongue.”

This is only a partial segment of a likeness that was now and forevermore out of my reach. Reading it was downright frightening. I found it easier to relate to the woman described in John 8:

At dawn he { Jesus } appeared again in the temple courts, where all the people gathered around him,and he sat down to teach them.  The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group and said to Jesus, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery.  In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?”

I don’t know what clothing the woman in John 8 was wearing when she was brought before the church leaders. I’ve tried to imagine her. I believe she is clothed in shame. I see her messy hair and her bare feet.  Even though her ragged clothing covers her body–she pulls at the neckline of her dress in an attempt to cover her self-perceived nakedness. She looks down at her guilty hands and wonders if these are to be her last moments on earth. She is not laughing at the days to come.

There is a vast difference between a woman who is worth far more than rubies and a woman people would like to stone.

I understood the difference, so I made the deal with my Bible. I would glean all that I could from any of the other Bible passages, and I would let the women who had earned the right to be clothed in strength and dignity wear those clothes.

 

And time passed…

It was a warm summer evening when I gathered with some ladies for a farewell party. The hostess had purposed a craft for us to work on together while we sipped pink cocktails and nibbled on caloric finger-foods. We were making truth-cards. These were small works of art we would be able to refer back to when future days were long and daunting.

It was on this evening my daughter honored me by presenting me with a truth-card constructed with the words, “elle est forte”. She translated the words, “she is strong” and went on to say how much strength she saw in me. On the back she wrote words of love and grace. I was honored deeply.

FullSizeRender(3)The moment moved me to tears. This was my adult, married daughter to whom I had lied. The young woman whose father I had betrayed. My example of how to be a godly woman and wife had been trashed before her very eyes in a public venue. My greatest failure was announced to my church coworkers–who happened to be her closest friends. My worst nightmares of how I might one day disappoint my daughter did not compare with what had actually happened. There was no other woman in the world that I would have wanted to honor me publicly.

 

And more time passed…

Months later, of all the truth-cards that were given to me that evening, the one from my daughter stood out.

The giver. The message. The poetic nature.

I decided to commission a jewelry designer to fashion the phrase into a necklace. I wanted to own this message and make a declaration. I had been weak when I was dragged away and enticed by my own evil desires, but I am strong when I am humbled in a heap at the feet of the Lord. To be strong in Christ is our greatest strength, and to own it fiercely is a passageway to life abundant.

I ordered my custom necklace from Be Well Threads. The online shop’s owner isn’t merely a crafting entrepreneur, she is a woman of Ministry. She is living a life of valor. She knows my story, was among those to whom I lied, and still chose to respond with grace and mercy.

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It was a short time later, I first saw my necklace online. My jewelry designer posted a picture of the new creation on Facebook and Instagram. She tagged me in each post, and my anticipation for it’s arrival increased. I couldn’t wait to wear and declare my strength!

FullSizeRender(2)The day the necklace arrived was the day a woman caught in adultery came face to face with the Proverbs 31 woman. You see, included in the packaging was a note of encouragement from the designer, and on the inside of the card she had inscribed the words found in Proverbs 31:25.

“She is clothed with strength and dignity;
    and laughs without fear of the future.”

I was dumbfounded. Why on earth would this woman, who clearly knew my failings, use this verse?  My inquisitive nature kicked in and I referred to Google. What was the root of this, “Elle est Forte”?

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Click this picture to connect to Etsy where you can order Elle est Forte clothing from “She is Clothing”

What I didn’t realize when I ordered the necklace was our culture’s current connection of the French term, “Elle est forte” to Proverbs 31:25.  Several designers have been fashioning graphics using the term in direct correlation to the Bible verse. I was completely shocked. Had I known prior to ordering that the term “Elle est forte” was associated with the one book I was attempting to avoid, I would have never requested the necklace be made.

I called my daughter and asked her if she was aware of the connection of term “Elle est forte” to the Proverbs 31 Woman.

Now, if you have had the blessing of raising a daughter through the teen years and into adulthood, you will relate when I say I could hear my daughter’s “eye-rolling”. With a soft, “yes, Mom” she confirmed that she was fully aware of the connection between the two.

My daughter had known she was referring to Proverbs 31 when she had publicly called me “Elle est forte”. My jewelry designer had known she was declaring Proverbs 31 when she tagged me in a posted picture of the necklace on Facebook.  However, if it hadn’t been for the inscription on the card that came with my necklace, I still may not have connected the dots.

The whole incident left me very confused.

  • How was it that my daughter was not seeing that I could no longer be called a Proverbs 31 Woman?
  • Didn’t she see the hypocrisy in my claiming label to anything associated with Proverbs 31?
  • If I lay claim to anything associated with a wife of noble character, will God consider it a mockery?

The deal I had made with my Bible was broken.  It was time for the two of us to spend some time dealing with this new development. I was going to have to pour into Proverbs 31:10-31 and unpack its meaning.

I believed there were secrets hidden in this ancient poem. Secrets the Lord planted there so that His word would draw all of mankind toward him. Even those who hadn’t earned that right.

Silently, I prayed for God to show me how I could hear His word with the knowledge of my depraved behavior.

As I prayed, I felt God ask me, “Jackie, how would you have me share this verse with the Woman from John 8? How would you have me give these words to her? I am God, and I inspired these words long before that day in the Temple Courts. Do you not think I thought of her when these words were penned?”

I heard the Lord clearly. If I didn’t have a belief in these words for myself, perhaps I could discover truth in God’s words for her sake.  If I were standing in the Temple Courts on the day she was nearly stoned for her sin, and I saw her brokenness, how would I relate these words to her in a way that she might feel closer to God–and not further away from Him?

When it came to the history of the Woman from John 8 there seemed to be very little recorded. It was almost as if the Lord intended her to be anonymous enough that she could be any of us.  I spent the afternoon reading and researching, but nothing I came up with was giving me a clue as to how these verses could help her in an attempt to lead a life claiming, “eshet chayil”! It made me wonder if her history had little to do with her future. Perhaps the day she was caught in adultery was to be the biggest blessing in her life–her ticket to a life lived with valor.

I opened my journal and wrote a letter to this woman who had avoided the stones:

My sister,

On your own, you will never be a wife of noble character, have a worth exceeding rubies, garnish your husband’s full confidence, wear strength or dignity, laugh at what is coming, or speak wisdom and instruction. No, you alone, will never be those things. They cannot exist in you alone.

These verses aren’t for one woman to achieve in herself. God gave these words to draw out the most perfect attributes of His church. God gave these verses to encourage and instruct His people in their quest to be His noble wife. We are not called as individuals to become a Proverbs 31 Woman, we are called as a body to become the Bride of Christ. These are the words we achieve for one another as a body.

The day you sat in the dirt waiting for the first stone to come at you, you were far from being a noble wife. In your eyes. But in the eyes of Christ, there was a nobility coming that would be bought through His suffering. He knew this, so he made a call for grace.

His blood would soon make you noble.

In that moment the men dropped their stones against you, and as they did this they were not only clothing themselves with strength and dignity, they were on the path to clothing you with strength and dignity.

Stones dropped to the ground were clothing you with strength.

When you left the Temple Courts dirty and ashamed, your future looked bleak. The days ahead held uncertainty. It was in those days that other believers surrounded you, loved on you, and laughed at the days ahead for you.

When you couldn’t believe and find laughter, others believed for you.

A life of valor comes to us when we envision a life of valor for someone who cannot see it in themselves, and I believe in all these things for you, Woman of John 8.

Proverbs 31 is a call for the church to be honorable. It speaks of a God who is blessed by her. God has full confidence in her, because she brings good into the life of His children. He does not want her to be burdened with self-inflicted shame. 

To be strong in Christ for another is our greatest strength, and to own it fiercely for someone who is struggling is a passageway to life abundant.

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…She is clothed with strength and dignity;
    she can laugh at the days to come.
She speaks with wisdom,
    and faithful instruction is on her tongue.”

Gossip, Pride and Adultery
affair recovery · spiritual growth

Gossip, Pride and Adultery

Jacquelyn Sill16 Comments

When you are flat on your back, the sky looks bigger. There is no time in my life when I can recall the skies being as luminous as they appear to be now. There are mountains to the east, to the west and to the south. These jagged rocks, corroded with time, have been on earth since the beginning of time. They stand watch over Arizona’s desert, being fully aware that long after I am gone–they will remain. But something about these mountains feels different than other mountains I’ve known.

The difference is ever so slight. These mountains break the horizon, but only doing so as they settle under the heavy hand of the sky. It’s as if the sky is holding them in place, rather than their terrain breaking up into the sky. I lived previously in the California foothills, and when I looked at that terrain it was as if the mountains were creeping up into the skies territory. These mountains seem to submit to the power of that which no man can touch. The evaporated goodness of God holds His mountains in place.

Superstition MountainIn the same way the skies appear to be making the mountains submit, it seems as if they are making me submit. The powerful skies remind me of how small I am, and how big God is. I look up and I wonder: am I getting smaller or is God getting bigger? The truth is, I am not getting smaller, and God is not getting bigger. I was always small and God was always big. But sin inflates us, and we become bigger in our own minds.

It isn’t just sexual sin which causes distortion and inflates the ego. Being blunt, I will say that long before I had an affair, something worse was brewing inside me. Hindsight may be 20/20, but hindsight is only precious to us if we use our enhanced vision to alter the choices we make in the hereafter.

Long before I had an affair, I made poor choices in the relationships I cultivated. What I am about to describe may seem like a common struggle for many women–for many Christian women. That’s partially what makes it disturbing.

I met and began to associate with women whose lives were tinged with a spirit of competition and negativity. It was a brood of judgement, masked under the veil of opinions. The self-righteousness led to gossip. The gossip was poison. I did my best to not participate, but not talking was just a ruse. Even though I held my tongue, just being around such negativity was still involving me in sin in a way I never imagined. Looking back, I wish I had bravely confronted their gossip, and trusted there was a greater good in it for them, and for God’s kingdom. I wish I had been able to see how lovingly confronting them may have changed the choices I myself would make in the time period after.

The reasons for not confronting these women was a form of pride in my own heart.

While I didn’t participate in the gossip, knowing it was rampant and that I was not involved caused me to overvalue myself. Rather than comparing myself to the Savior, I compared myself to these ladies. In short, I had little respect for these ladies, and I was using them. I was allowing them to fill a part of me. I viewed myself as being better than them in some way. They were gossiping and they were filled with negativity–since I wasn’t living in “their sinfulness” I allowed myself to believe I was on a better path. Because of my pride, I wasn’t showing them the love they deserved. 

Perhaps God had allowed me to become acquainted with these women so we could journey a road of revealing deeper issues. What makes one sister talk negatively about another sister? Perhaps in bridging these questions with these women, we could have all grown smaller and God could have grown bigger. Perhaps my confrontation would have made me less prideful and more obedient.

It won’t be a shock to anyone to read that my weaknesses eventually became the subject of their gossip.

Before I entered into the affair, my behavior revealed a woman who was struggling. When my issues with intimacy began to surface, they were met with judgement and gossip. The same words I had heard them speak of about others turned in my direction. No surprise, right? 

The thing that was a surprise was how the gossip actually made me more prideful. My pride was enhanced when the ladies saw my weakness and responded with sin… because they were sinning in a way in which I didn’t struggle. When the women saw that I needed help in keeping boundaries with a man who began to show me attention, there was a small firestorm of gossip. This firestorm made me more prideful. Even though I was a mess of confusion, I didn’t look at myself and what I needed help with–instead, I looked at how these women were involving themselves in the sin of gossip.

My pride grew bigger because, in my estimation, “I could handle” my struggles.  In my mind, I hadn’t actually “sinned” and these women had. It gave me an untrue and exalted view of myself. Sadly, my pride was leading me down a path towards destruction, and I followed with arms raised and heart abandoned. I was in the right–my pride told me so.

Because I hadn’t done anything wrong, I believed what I was struggling with was a weakness which I could manage. I walked forward without accountability.  Shortly thereafter, I was placed in a leadership role and on the payroll of a church. This only made me more fearful of sharing my struggles. I mistakenly believed I was going to have to deal with my weaknesses on my own.  My fear at that time was the threat of losing my job if my weaknesses became known. I closed myself off from telling ANY person of the greatest struggle I have ever had. I decided instead to deal with my internal battles on my own. THAT my friends, is PRIDE.

Not talking to others about my struggle made it easier to stop talking to God.

Talking to another believer would have been a step in keeping conversation open with my Lord. It was easier to deny what was happening when I felt convicted by the satisfaction I was receiving from the attention of another man. I had zero accountability to the one issue which has always been a thorn in my side.

The struggle of being swayed and romanced by the words and the wooing of another man has always been my struggle. I know this more clearly now. I don’t think I understood it as being my struggle, because prior to last year, my prideful self believed that I had it reigned in.  It’s an interesting thing when you cross over into a sin that is “bigger than yourself”, you see yourself in the truest light of grace, or you walk away from the truth completely. I do not think it can play out in any other way. Once you have sinned in a way that you recognize as being BIG, ugly, and inexcusable, you will either repent and have an understanding of grace that is deeper than imagined, or you will continue in your rebellion until you finally abandon your faith altogether.

Entering into the affair was the first time I ever had impulses to give myself to another man, and regretfully I acted on those impulses. But, even without the temptations coming to the surface, I could always feel they were underneath the surface. Somehow I seemed to know that my heart would take me into the pit of hell if I allowed it to lead. I just didn’t know how desperately I needed to talk to others and get help.

The world might look different for a lot of people today, if I had been brave enough to share my struggle. This is why I remember the ladies so vividly, the gossip, and the opportunity lost. Perhaps if I had stood bravely and helped them overcome their negativity, they would have known how to respond to me when they saw my weakness. Perhaps if I hadn’t been so busy judging them, I may have been humble enough to be transformed myself.

The desire to be desired is still there. It’s not pretty, but I am not going to pretend that desire is gone in an attempt to be pretty. If I fail to acknowledge that I am capable of being led down this same path, am I not opening myself up to its possibility? I am a woman who allowed this to happen. I am a new creation, but that doesn’t mean I am so far removed from who I was that I wouldn’t be attacked in the same way. I am not going to lie to myself and believe the enemy isn’t going to try to confuse me again. I am not going to ignore my own weaknesses–that would be pure foolishness.

Above all don’t lie to yourself. The woman who lies to herself and listens to her own lie comes to a point that she cannot distinguish the truth within her, or around her, and so loses all respect for herself and for others. And having no respect she ceases to love.  ~Fyodor Dostoevsky

I am blessed by the way things were brought into the light because I don’t have to pretend anymore. I have faced one of my biggest fears. For years, many years, I feared what I was capable of, and I feared what others would do if they knew the “real” me. Then, coincidentally, at the one time in my life when I was in the most public arena I had ever been, I fell. If I hadn’t been employed by a church, this affair would have ended like most affairs end: quietly, with deeply shredded hearts, battered spouses, and bruised family members.

I consider it a blessing that God allowed my greatest struggle to be revealed while I was in a place where it would not be hidden. Living in a place that is not hidden is good for me, it’s good for my marriage, and hopefully it will be good for the Kingdom.

Gossip, Pride and AdulteryI would rather be flat on my back, looking at the unseen hand of God than exalted to the highest mountain and living in fear of  the damage that could be caused by my own hands. The big sky frees me from the sins I perpetuate on myself. I am small and I am blessed by the enormity of the sky.

His Love > his Love
affair recovery

His Love > his Love

Jacquelyn Sill1 Comment

If you want to see a small social media riot evolve, simply write a tweet in support of the Common Core Math Standards and watch your Twitter go viral. The controversial math standards have been in the headlines for months, and with the start of the new school year they have become the topic of many frustrated parent’s Facebook status updates.

Understanding Common Core is not a necessity in my life, which is probably a good thing because in my limited research for this post, I didn’t find much that left me feeling enlightened. I even visited a site that was Pro-Common Core, thinking they would do their best to explain the elementary school problems in a simplified way that made it easy to understand and thus gain supporters. No such luck–I was more confused after visiting blamecommoncore.com than before I read their featured article.

Perhaps I am atypical in my understanding of the new learning style, because to be fair, I am not a woman who is known for her love of math. Rather, I am a lover of words.

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As a lover of words, I was in one of my happy spots last night when I was able to listen to Amena Brown create beauty with her words. The gifted poet was the key-note speaker at an event I attended at my church in Chandler, Arizona. While her husband, Matt “DJ Opdiggy” Owen, skillfully stylized music in the background she shared the truth of God’s love with her own stories and original spoken word poetry.  She shared briefly about her marriage, and she talked about how her understanding of God’s love was enhanced by the love of her husband. She said that she had realized that even as she enjoyed the fulfillment of her husband’s love in her life, God was still trying to get her to understand the magnitude of His love. She shared that God was saying to her,

Your husband’s love for you is just a tiny fraction of the love I have for you.

Amena Brown at Remix

As she shared the words, I felt a lump rise in my throat. It is true for me as well. As great as my husband’s love is for me–it is but a tiny, tiny fraction of the love that my Heavenly Father, who does not change like shifting shadows, has for me.

And my husband’s love speaks volumes.  You see, my husband’s love is obvious.  My husband’s love is tangible. I can feel it, I can see it. Others can, too. This is not a new love of something nearly lost. For years, if there was an attribute that defined my husband, it was his affectionate love for his wife.

At times my husband’s desire to be close to me, to engage me in conversation, to spend time with me has been “a force to be reckoned with” and those desires send this girl, who once replaced real intimacy with sex, running for the dark places in her mind.

To imagine a Heavenly Father who loves me more than this man is…well…unimaginable. And yet, it’s true. God’s love may seem unimaginable and unfathomable–but it’s real and it’s demonstrated in ways that are equally obvious and equally tangible.

Several months ago I received a piece of hate mail that spawned my entitled Stop Being Happy on Facebook post. In the article I shared that I had received a letter from a woman who was offended that I had been sharing my story of surviving my own infidelity on my blog.  She wouldn’t have a problem with my journey if I were “the victim” but since I caused all the pain, my thoughts and my journey were an affront to her.

In the letter she stated, “…you think you are above reproach for what you did just because your husband forgave you.” Apparently, it was an assault to her that I was moving forward and that I was proud of the way my husband had behaved when he discovered the truth about the relationship I had been cultivating with another man. Fortunately, the words didn’t stick on my skin for more than a few hours. I woke in the early hours and realized that I don’t THINK I am above reproach for what I’ve done because my husband forgave me. I KNOW I am  above reproach for the sin of adultery because God forgave me. Even without the love and the support of my husband–my sin is abolished.

I am grateful every single day that my husband chose to stay with me, but the reality is, even if he had asked me to move out, I would still be forgiven and I would still be above reproach for the sin I once chose. My repentance is what leads me to a new life, not the love of a man. Christ took my sin away, and it doesn’t own me anymore.

It’s a concept that can seem confusing because my husband and I are experiencing so much hope. Because of my husband’s forgiveness towards me the love of God has been penetrating our lives and His Grace has been transforming our marriage. The restoration of our marriage is vital to us, as it is to our children, but the restoration of me as an individual is the core of what makes the marital restoration even possible. God had a strong call on me to turn away from my sin and confess it to my husband, but He had an even stronger call on me to turn away from my sin and turn in repentance towards Him.  Understanding God’s love, and not running away from intimacy with Him and into the dark places in my mind–is something that I have to learn to sit with and embrace or I will never be able to fully embrace the love my husband wants to give so freely.

It’s not as confusing as trying to solve a simple math problem using common core and it doesn’t raise the same controversy, but when I write honestly about it, it can certainly raise a few comments in my inbox. People like problems that are easy to solve–the kind where one plus one equals two. But, for my husband and I–that equation didn’t add up, and now I have to daily decrease, so that God can increase. With less of me and more of Him–the math that works is one plus one plus the One equals one.