Part One: Irresistible Grace! (Leading up to 1995)

 By the time I reached the age of 34, I had been exposed to Christianity in various forms but had rejected all tenets of any type of religion.  Although I had several members of my family who called themselves “born-again Christians” and although I had attended church services with them on many occasions, I had never heard the term “irresistible grace” and even if I had it would have meant absolutely nothing to me.

 My father and mother both came from a Roman Catholic background.  My father fell away from the Roman Catholic Church as a young man.  He started studying World Religions, attended a Unitarian church (on occasion) and is now a self-professed atheist.

 As a young girl, my mother was a scrupulous Catholic.  At some point during her High School years, she even decided to live with the Nuns in a convent to determine if God was calling her to the religious life.  I suppose it goes without saying that my mother did not become a nun and that’s a story for another time.

 My mother and father met at a USO dance and they later married.  My father gradually pulled my mother away from the church and she began to question her faith.  She would have basically called herself “agnostic” during those years.  My father was in and out of our lives until I was 10 or 11 years old. (That’s another long story for another time).  My mother later became a “born-again” believer.

 Although our family would be defined (by most) as “dysfunctional”, I really feel thankful for the way in which I was raised and have no real regrets or emotional scares.  Both my parents held high moral and ethical standards and taught these standards and principals to their children.  We were not only taught, but also witnessed our parents living by what I would now call “Christian principals”; not in matters of faith—but in matters of morals.  In spite of my father’s rejection of God, he always encouraged us to do our own research and to come to our own conclusions.  Everything was discussed in our house and we were always encouraged to question and to think.  (I thank God for both my mother and my father).

 Because I was a very strong-willed and self-reliant young person, peer pressure had little to no effect on me.  I was not one to follow the crowd or do things to “fit-in”.  I realized early on that bad choices meant bad consequences and that following the crowd was almost always a bad choice.  One of my father’s precious pearls of wisdom was, “The masses are asses!” and frankly I found much truth in that crude expression.  I had established my own set of moral standards and gained a sense of peace and comfort by striving to live up to them.

After my mother was “born-again” I would attend church (on occasion and to please her) for special events, to hear speakers, or on Holidays.  When visiting with my grandparents, I would also attend church services with them and have lengthy conversations regarding the faith after the service.  I had the typical questions and expressed the typical reasons for justifying my unbelief.

By the time I was 34 years of age, I had heard a lot of scripture and had basic “head” knowledge of the Christian faith.  I had definitely heard enough of the Word of God to understand, intellectually, the gospel message.

 Having learned a little bit about many of the World Religions, I basically developed my own philosophy of life.  Some of my beliefs were as follow:

 *      All religions where man-made and those who followed them were following them for one of three reasons:  1) out of fear; 2) out of ignorance; or 3) because they wanted to believe that they could live forever.  They didn’t want to believe that they would cease to exist.  I saw this as an incredibly self-centered and narcissistic motivation to be “religious”.  I felt that if God existed one should praise and worship Him simply for the air they breathed, the life they were given, and the beauty of His creation.  In fact, those that tried to evangelize me with the threat of Hell or the reward of Heaven, completely turned me off.

 *      I never felt that men were “basically good”.  I believed that one must “decide” to be good and work on it daily.  I think early on that my religion was basically—ME!  Be the best person I could be; be honest, be disciplined, be kind, be helpful, be self-reliant, be trustworthy, etc., etc.  Not with any hope of heaven or any fear of hell, but just because it made me feel good about me.  And, it seemed to make those around me happier as well.  In other words, I would weigh the pleasure I might gain from doing something wrong with the pain it might cause another having done it.  If my action would disappoint or hurt someone, I would opt not to do it.

 *      I believed that we are born, we live, and then we die.  This life is all there is—like it or not—and frankly I liked it!  I was content with life.  I had no high expectations from this life or from those around me.  One of my favorite sayings was, “no one ever promised you a rose garden”.  When someone would complain about something that I saw as minor, I would say, “Hey, things could be worse—you’re breathing aren’t you?” (Talk about a lack of compassion!)

 *      I reasoned that if God did exist, he would obviously be able to see into a person’s heart and know fully their motivations for believing in Him.  I knew that if there was indeed a God, that I could not trick Him.  I knew that I could not make myself believe or “decide” to believe.  I didn’t take this lightly.  I knew that if I was going to follow Him that it would have to be real.  I remember telling my mom, “I know how happy it would make you if I became a Christian.  But, you don’t want me to make this decision just to please you…do you?”

*      I tested everything by the result or outcome as proof of its reality.  In other words, if someone said a certain medicine would cure a certain problem, I never believed it until it actually worked.  If someone said that they found a really terrific diet that was easy to stay on and six months later they were still fat, I reasoned that either 1) the diet was not easy to stay on or 2) the diet was easy to stay on but it was not a terrific diet or they would have lost weight.  I applied this same principal to everything; including religion.  I looked for evidence of the reality of Christ in the lives of Christians.  Frankly, I didn’t see it.  Most of the Christians that I knew were miserable and I was happy.  I was certainly not going to join a club where most of the members didn’t seem to benefit from membership; didn’t seem to accurately reflect their club president; and, where many of the members didn’t appear to follow even the basic rules.

 *      I thought that religion (and Christianity in particular) was basically a good thing because people did need accountability-if nothing else.  They needed rules to live by (regardless of their motivation for following them) as men were not “basically good” and I thought that the rules and principals of Christianity were good ones.  I never would attempt to discourage anyone who had “religion”.  I wasn’t convinced that “religion” really helped many people, but it seemed to keep them in check—to some degree.

 Perhaps this helps in understanding why my Christian grandmother would say, “You are going to be a tough egg to crack.”

 I had a 15 year career with the County of Santa Clara; a nice office; a great salary; I was basically quite content.  I had never married, no children, no boyfriend, but I can say I was happy.  Most of my friends were either married and miserable or dating and miserable.  I was single and happy.

 Now the cracking begins!

 I was doing double sessions of Jazzercise--five days a week, and was taking Salsa Dance lessons and dancing at a club in Mountain View twice a week.  I really loved dance.  I didn’t go to the club to meet men.  I simply loved the dance.  In fact, at the age of five I remember seeing Gene Kelly in An American in Paris and thinking, “that’s what I want to be when I grow up!”

 During one of my Jazzercise sessions, my entire left side went completely numb and I couldn’t raise my left foot off of the ground.  My best friend (Deni) rushed me to the emergency room where they performed an emergency CT Scan.  After several months and additional tests, I was finally diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis (MS).

 I started to ponder my future.  I read everything written about MS that I could get my hands on.  The reality of this diagnosis was overwhelming to me and with that reality came my own little “pity party”.  I suppose that I realized for the first time that there was absolutely nothing that I could do to change the outcome.  No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make this go away.

 My symptoms would fluctuate from severe to subtle and I lived in constant fear that the MS would come on strong and I would lose my sight, my speech or my ability to walk.  Sometimes the symptoms would disappear completely; but the “pity party” continued and was getting progressively worse.

 One night I went out to a club to see a friend perform with her ethnic dance troupe and proceeded to drink “gin and tonics”—one right after the other.  Once the club closed, I got into my car (in total denial that I had had way too much to drink) and proceeded to drive home.  In a matter of minutes (just a few blocks from the parking lot) I was pulled over and arrested for “Driving Under the Influence”.

 What?  “Little miss perfect with a DUI!  How did this happen?  I thought you were so strong!  I thought you were so smart!  I thought you didn’t do the stupid self-centered things that so many others do?  I thought you were different!  What happened to “nobody promised you a rose garden?”  Now, here you are feeling sorry for yourself, drinking and driving, endangering other people, and getting arrested for DUI.”  I was devastated.

 I realized that my perceived “happiness” was primarily based on my ability to control myself and my life and now it (and I) was completely out of control.  I see now that God used all these things (the MS and the DUI and many other things) to make me realize just how powerless, pathetic, weak, depraved, and helpless I truly was.

 After the DUI, I spent the next few months reflecting on my life, my philosophy and my own depravity.  I remember being at the end of myself.  The “ME” religion had died—It had obviously failed the test.

 One morning at work, I was so overwhelmed that I could no longer concentrate.  I was never one to discuss my problems with others and frankly I didn’t find most people’s counsel very helpful.  As ugly and arrogant as that sounds—it was the truth at that time.  What happened next was very surprising.  Even as I recount it now, I am struck with how unbelievable it truly was.

 What makes it even more wonderful is that I was never one to have, or to desire, “emotional experiences” and ran quickly from anything that seemed “touchy-feely”.  So what happened?

 Shortly before the lunch hour, and after getting really nothing accomplished due to the distractions of thoughts and feelings that I was experiencing, my foolish, stubborn, strong-willed, prideful heart began warring inside of me against an even stronger tugging on my heart that I could no longer ignore.  I began pouring my heart out to a God that I wasn’t even sure existed.

 Remember, I had heard the gospel message a number of times, I knew who the bible said that Jesus was, I understood why He came and what He had accomplished, I just refused to believe.  I simply was never willing or able to surrender control to anything or anyone.  The scripture that came to mind and had the most influence on my understanding of what it meant to truly surrender to Christ, was when Jesus said "If anyone comes to Me and does not hate his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and his own life also, he cannot be My disciple.  And whoever does not bear his cross and come after Me cannot be My disciple.  For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not sit down first and count the cost, whether he has enough to finish it--lest, after he has laid the foundation, and is not able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him.  This was one of the scriptures that kept me from making a “decision” for Christ.  I knew I was certainly not there.  I knew that He would know I was lying (if he actually existed).

 I remember crying out to God, “I am at the end of myself.  If you exist, please, please, reveal yourself to me.  I am lost and realize my own insignificance and depravity.  I’m not asking that you cure my MS; I’m not asking that you solve all my problems; I am only asking that you reveal yourself to me.  I sincerely want to know the truth.  If you will somehow show me that you are really there, I will start living for you.  I will devote the rest of my life to following and serving you regardless of what that might cost.”

 As I sat there pleading with God, I was suddenly filled with the irresistible, undeniable presence and reality of God.  (Again, I am not one to be prone to “supernatural” or “emotional experiences” so this was truly and completely unsolicited by me.)  The best way that I can describe it is to say that I felt as if God had opened up the top of my head and slowly began pouring warm oil in—until it filled and infused my entire being.  My heart was warmed beyond human explanation.  I had no doubt whatsoever of the reality of God and bowed down to Him in praise and thanksgiving.  My heart and my head had been radically transformed.  I COULD DO NOTHING BUT BELIEVE!”

 Looking back, the scripture that comes to mind is, For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

 The first thing I did was to share this with all the Christians in the office.  I left my office to track them down.  I couldn’t wait to tell them that “I believe”.  There were tears of rejoicing and they spread the word quickly among the other professing Christians in the office.  I then proceeded to tell everyone I knew—even people I didn’t know (which was really atypical behavior for me).

 That night I called my Grandmother and said to her, “Well Grandma, the tough egg has finally cracked!”  My grandfather fell to his knees and I could hear him praising God, as my Grandmother rejoiced with me.  The word spread quickly through the family and the Christians all rejoiced.  Unknown to me they had been praying for me for years.

 Shortly thereafter, my very best friend (Deni) also was saved by God’s grace and received Christ as her Lord and Savior.

 From that moment in June of 1995, I was radically changed and desired nothing more than to grow in the grace and knowledge of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ…to know God, to follow God, and to serve God all the days of my life.  Christ and the things of God which previously I had found uninteresting became fascinating.  What, at one time, would have bored me—now thrilled me!  God’s irresistible grace had transformed my entire orientation from darkness to light!

 Mine was certainly not the most humble of conversions.  In fact, knowing what I know now, I was certainly a “Doubting Thomas”.  I refused to believe until God Himself was gracious and merciful enough to answer my request that He prove Himself to me.  I am grateful to God for the fact that he drew me to Himself in spite of myself.  This is one reason why I so strongly believe in God’s Sovereignty.  If the decision had been left up to me to make, I would have never made it.  I am still in awe of the undeserved mercy He showed to me and of the irresistible grace that He poured into a self-righteous; unbelieving; sin-filled; stubborn skeptic’s heart.

 No human reasoning could have convinced me; no desire to escape hell and gain Heaven would have motivated me; and, the examples of others certainly would have not persuaded me of the reality of God.   It was truly and only the irresistible grace of God that saved me.  I will close with this excerpt from a sermon preached by C.H. Spurgeon which so beautifully describes my conversion experience:

 “No lips can tell the love of Christ to the heart until Jesus Himself shall speak within.   Descriptions all fall flat and feeble unless the Holy Spirit fills them with life and power; until God makes Himself known to us, the soul does not see Him.  If you would see the sun, would you gather together the common means of illumination and seek in that way to view its splendor? No; the wise man knows that the sun must reveal itself, and only by its own blaze can that mighty orb be seen.

 It is the same with Christ.  "Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah!" He said to Peter.   "For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you." Purify flesh and blood by any educational process you may select, elevate mental faculties to the highest degree of intellectual power, yet none of these can reveal Christ. 

 The Spirit of God must come with power and overshadow the man with His wings, and then in that mystic holy of holies the Lord Jesus must display Himself to the sanctified eye, as He does not to the spiritually blind sons of men.  Christ must be His own mirror.  The great mass of this dim-sighted world can see nothing of the indescribable glories of Jesus.

 He stands before them without form or majesty, a root out of a dry ground, rejected by the vain and despised by the proud.  Only where the Spirit has illumined the eye, quickened the heart with divine life, and educated the soul to a heavenly taste, only there is He understood.  He is precious to the believer; He is the chief cornerstone, the Rock of your salvation, our all in all; but to others He is "a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offense."

 Happy are those to whom our Lord reveals Himself, for His promise to such is that He will make His home with them.  O Jesus, our Lord, our heart is open; come in, and never leave.  Show Yourself to us now! Favor us with a glimpse of Your embracing loveliness.”

 Ephesians 2:7-10

That in the ages to come he might show the exceeding riches of his grace in his kindness toward us through Christ Jesus.  For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God:  Not of works, lest any man should boast.  For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.

 Romans 9:16

So then it is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that sheweth mercy.

 Yes…God’s saving grace is truly “irresistible”.  Much has happened since my conversion in 1995.  In fact, it was in the same year that I met a wonderful “Christian” man and married.  See “The Sufficiency of Christ” for (as Paul Harvey would say), “the rest of the story”.

 

 

Post Script

Interestingly enough, I had been misdiagnosed in 1995.  I never actually had Multiple Sclerosis.  In 1997, after 3 additional MRI’s and further testing it was determined that the symptoms that I had experienced were caused by a malformation in the brain where the lower portion of the brain is herniating into the spinal cord.  When the herniation becomes severe, it blocks the flow of spinal fluid from the brain to the central nervous system which creates symptoms that mimic MS.

 This disorder is called, Arnold Chiari Malformation or ACM (type I).  They believe it may be congenital and symptoms may appear later in life.  I have a very minor type (type 1) of ACM and with lifestyle changes (like not jumping up and down for an hour in Jazzercise classes) can live almost symptom free.

 I want to thank God for my best friend, Deni.  She has stood by me through all the phases of my adult life and has been the very best friend a person could ever have.  I am very blessed.

 

Part Two: The Sufficiency of Christ! (1995-2006)

 

Dear Reader:  Adult issues are discussed in the following story and caution should be used when sharing this with younger people.  Care has been taken to present the information in as non-offensive a way as possible and many graphic details have been omitted.  

 The following was written with the hope of illustrating that: 1) life can be painful; 2) things don’t always work out the way in which we might desire; 3) placing our faith in the Lord Jesus Christ alone is the key to true happiness; and 4) even though others might disappoint or hurt us, His grace is sufficient to see us through even the most painful of times. 

 Please note:  The reader might find the first 6 pages rather tedious as they recount a lot of history leading up to the real point of the story.  However, I felt that a proper foundation should be built so that the reader would gain a fuller understanding of the impact of this incident in the life of this author.

 _____________________________________________ 

I always viewed marriage as a lifetime commitment.  Even prior to my conversion, my standards for marriage were very high and my personal moral standards regarding sexual intimacy were “Christian” in principal.  Some of those standards were formed by my parents and some were learned from observing life.  All of my adult life, I had listened to my married friends complain about how miserable they were and I spent many a night handing my girlfriends tissue after tissue, as they cried their eyes out from a broken heart.  I wanted none of that.

 The year 1995 brought many changes…not least of which was my miraculous conversion at the age of 35. (See “Irresistible Grace” for details)

 By the time I had reached the age of 35, I had yet to meet a man that I would want to spend the rest of my life with…a man that I would want to give myself to completely-heart, mind and body.  In addition to that, I didn’t have a great deal of respect for the way most men viewed women and/or relationships and never felt that I could totally trust a man with my whole heart, mind, and body.  Even prior to my conversion, I was not promiscuous for those very same reasons.

Then I met John.  He was 13 years my senior (48 when we met) and was kind, bright, and charming.  He had been raised Roman Catholic and was “born-again” at the age of 26 during the Catholic Charismatic Movement in 1972.  After his conversion, he spent several years in Southern California attending the Costa Mesa Bible College.  Prior to his conversion (in his early twenties) he had married twice.  Each marriage had been prompted by a pregnancy and both ended in divorce shortly after the child was born.  He hadn’t married since his conversion and felt that God had perhaps wanted it that way.  He supported both of his daughters financially throughout their adolescent years and had a close relationship with one of them via visits and letters.

 John had a master’s degree in social work and had started working in our office as a social worker in the Child Welfare Department.  I was an Office Automation Systems Coordinator and one of my tasks was to assist Social Workers with their computer problems.  I met John after he called in with a request for computer help.  I liked John right away.  We really clicked and he was attractive in an “Al Pacino” sort-of-way.  After our first meeting, he began to call quit frequently requesting help with his computer.  Each time I discovered that there was really nothing wrong with his computer; he just wanted an excuse to spend time with me.  I was flattered and enjoyed our visits.

 We would occasionally meet outside on break and talk.  I really began to look forward to those times.  We started meeting for morning break and afternoon break on a daily basis.  It was obvious to me that we were starting to develop strong feelings for one another.  He was very open about his past and shared many private things with me.  During this time, I started a list of questions on my commuter of things that I would eventually want to ask him (in the event that this relationship should start to move in a serious direction).  The questions were basically things that would help me to assess his character.  Most were hypothetical questions such as:

*      Let’s pretend that you had just detailed your car (inside and out) and picked me up for a day at the beach.  By the time we were ready to leave, it was cold, my shoes, socks and the bottom of my pants were wet and sandy.  Would you want me to remove my shoes and socks and make sure I shook the sand out of my pant cuffs before getting into your clean car—or—would you insist that I not worry about it?

 *      Let’s pretend that you are married.  Let’s pretend that your wife is mechanically gifted.  You decide to install a deadbolt in the front door.  After an hour or so, you can’t seem to get the darn thing to line-up correctly.  Would you allow your wife to give it a try or would you call a carpenter or locksmith to help you finish the job?

 *      Let’s pretend that you are married and you just purchased a very expensive area rug.  As your wife is bringing you a glass of red wine, she accidentally spills it on the new carpet.  How would you feel inside?  How would you react outwardly?

 In additional to the hypothetical, there were questions like:

 *      Have you ever had a dog?  How do you feel about dogs in general? (Note: I happen to be a dog lover and feel anyone who has never experienced the unconditional love that a dog gives has missed out on the wonderful lessons learned by caring for a dog—dog lover’s will understand this reasoning.)

 *      How important is money?

 *      Are you politically active?

 *      When’s the last time you had sex?  How do you feel about sex outside of marriage.

 Stuff like that!

 We had not yet had an official date and my list of questions was now four pages in length.  One day, John asked me if I would be willing to spend some time with him away from the office.  I asked him what he had in mind.  He said that he thought it would be nice to go to a coffee shop and just talk.  So, I said I would be willing, if he would be willing to subject himself to a 4 page questionnaire.  He said, “Sure!”  So our coffee date was on.

 John was very forthright with how he answered the questions.  I was as interested in how he would react to being asked the questions as I was in how he would answer them.  We both had a delightful time.  He in turn asked me quite a few questions.  This question and answer session was a wonderful way to learn a lot about each other in a very short period of time.  We both enjoyed it tremendously and knew that we would start spending more time together.

 One night after work, we met at a pizza parlor.  During this meeting it was clear that we had developed strong feelings for one another.  I made it clear to him that I did not want to start a physical relationship (on any level) as it would not only cloud my judgment (I wanted to remain totally objective while we were getting to know one another), but also because I had strong convictions regarding any type of sexual intimacy outside of marriage.  He was in total agreement.  As time went on, we spent more and more time together.  I was a brand-new baby Christian and he had been a “Christian” for over 20 years.  He would often read to me from the Bible, provide me with teaching tapes and take me with him to Church.

 Although we had never even kissed I knew this was a man I would want to spend the rest of my life with and I also knew that he would eventually ask me to marry him.  One day, during one of our visits, he told me how much he respected me, loved me and wanted me to be his wife.  That was the day he asked me to marry him.  I said, “yes” and we kissed for the very first time.

 Everything happened so quickly!  I hadn’t really shared any of this with my family or my best friend.  I had always been a very private person and never felt the need to discuss personal matters.  In addition, based on  past experience, I suppose I kept thinking that it would fizzle out.  But, it didn’t.  After the announcement was made, my whole family wanted to meet John.  They couldn’t believe “miss independent” was getting married.  They really couldn’t believe that I agreed to marry him after only 5 months and that I had kept the whole thing a secret.  They were very skeptical.  They were, understandably, very concerned.

 I had my mom over for spaghetti (which John insisted on cooking) and then the “grilling” began.  He past with flying colors.  He was open to any and all questions that my mother had to ask and she was very impressed with him.  I then brought him up to Pine Grove to meet my Grandparents.  They liked him very much and were very happy for me.

 He took me to Hollister to meet his family and friends and that was also a whirlwind experience.

 John asked a pastor in Hollister, whom he knew well, if he would marry us.  He agreed and we met with the pastor on 5 occasions to complete extensive pre-marital counseling.  We were married on September 25^th 1995 at a historical park outside of Hollister.  Deni (my best friend) was my maid of honor and John picked his nephew David to be his best man.  This touched my heart because David was autistic and some family members were worried about him not being able to act appropriately at the wedding.  That didn’t change John’s mind.  He said that it meant more to him to bless David with that honor than to worry about what other people thought.  It was a casual outdoor wedding and we both wanted the guest list to be small; just very close friends and family members.  Of course, being Italian, John had over 45 family members and many close friends.  So, we ended up with a much longer guest list than I had anticipated.  It was a wonderful day and we looked forward with great anticipation to the honeymoon.

Before we were married, we had both agreed to save sexual intimacy for our wedding night and had stayed true to that promise.  We had a 2 day honeymoon in a beautiful ocean view room in Carmel.

 In addition, before we were married, John had also asked me if I would consider quitting my job.  After working 15 years as a single career woman, and being “married” to my job…I was thrilled with the idea of becoming a “full-time” wife and home maker.  I resigned from the County and started getting things ready for the wedding and for our new life together.

During the first year of our marriage we rented a small, one bedroom apartment in San Jose.  I loved my new life.  I loved being a wife.  I loved ironing his shirts.  I loved packing his lunch.  I made sure that everything was done (grocery shopping, laundry, etc.) so that our weekends were free and John could just relax or we could just enjoy the weekend together.

 We talked about everything.  We were not only lovers, but we were best friends.  The one thing that we both promised each other was that we would never divorce for any reason except in the case of adultery.  We both felt strongly that adultery would not only break the wedding vows but also the covenant of marriage and was so heinous that it even destroyed the one flesh union between a man and his wife.

 I will now attempt to make a long story a little shorter.  Many details will be omitted that are not essential to the overall purpose of this story.

 From San Jose, we moved to Gilroy (where we again rented) as John had been transferred to the Gilroy Office and the commute to and from San Jose was killing him.  After approximately a year and a half, we purchased a home in Gustine.  It was a one hour commute to Gilroy, but John felt the sacrifice was well worth the ability that the Gustine real estate market afforded us.  We were able to purchase a 2100 square foot home for one forth the price that it would have cost us in Gilroy.

 During this time, Deni’s mother had died and she had gone through the emotional aspect of losing her mother and the exhausting process of settling her mother’s estate.  Once that process had been completed, she was able to buy her own home in Gustine, as well.  I thank the Lord for giving to me such a faithful and loving best friend.  It was wonderful having her in the same small town.

Gustine’s population was a little over 4,000 and was primarily Portuguese Roman Catholic.  Finding a church home in the area was next to impossible.  With John’s Calvary Chapel background, we ended up attending a Calvary Chapel Church in Modesto (which was a 35 mile drive).  We attended Sunday morning worship services and a Thursday evening Bible Study Fellowship.  After a year or so, we discovered that The First Baptist Church in Newman (which we had checked out a year earlier) had a new pastor.  We desperately wanted to worship in a local church and decided to start attending that church; eventually becoming official members of the church.

 John and I both got very involved in ministry.  I was leading classes as part of the women’s ministry, writing and editing the church newsletter, coordinating women’s events, etc.  John was a leader in the men’s ministry.  It was a church of approximately 200 and we made some close friendships with several of the other married couples in the church.  John sang in the choir, and helped to lead the men’s groups (one which was a class on dealing with sexual temptation).  John didn’t share much about the men’s group discussions; but, I remember well the night he came home and said, “It’s so sad to hear how many of the men struggle with sexual temptation.  I’m so glad I don’t struggle with that problem anymore.”

 We would listen to teaching tapes together almost every night and attend Sunday morning and evening service, as well as mid-week groups.  As vacations, we loved to attend Christian conferences together.  John was truly fulfilling his role as spiritual leader in our marriage.

 Our marriage was going well.  Even with the occasional, normal (and sometimes heated) disagreements about stupid things, I would say that we were probably the happiest married couple I had ever known.  We had fun together.  We actually enjoyed one another’s company.  We were, however, having issues with sexual intimacy.  During the 6^th year of our marriage, we had not been intimate for over 7 months.  I had not lost my desire for John, but John seemed to have lost his desire for me.  When we would discuss it; he assured me that it was probably due to his age and that it was not uncommon for a man’s sex drive to diminish (he was 54 at this time).  He told me that if it continued he was considering seeing a doctor.  At one point, I even told him that if there was something that he needed to tell me, it would be better to tell me now than for me to find out later that he had not been forthright with me.

 He assured me that I was being ridiculous and he seemed genuinely concerned that I not take it personally.  He said that it had nothing to do with me; that he still thought I was a beautiful woman and he loved me dearly.  He asked me to be patient; and, I assured him that I would be.  I asked him if it would be helpful to not discuss it or even think about it for awhile; and he felt that it would be.

 Although, I felt a great deal of concern about this, I choose to simply not worry about it.  What made things easier for me, was that John showed a tremendous amount of non-sexual affection.  He was always putting his arms around me.  He loved to sit real close and watch TV, or snuggle in bed.  In addition, he would tell me all the time how very much he loved me and that he wouldn’t know what to do if I should go before him; that I meant the world to him; and that he loved me with all his heart.  Overall, he was a terrific husband in many ways.  This was the year that (for my birthday) he had written a song; which he sang to me, while he played the tune on his guitar.  I framed the lyrics and hung them on our bedroom wall as a sweet memory of his love and thoughtfulness.  He really was touched that his little gift had meant that much to me.

 As a side note, I want to point out something that was a very profound realization.  Initially (and rightfully so) people had been concerned by my decision to marry John after only knowing him for 5 short months.  This had always concerned me.  However, I could honestly say that even after knowing John for the entire six years that we were married, I would have married him all over again.  Realizing that, made me feel much better about our short courtship.  After 6 years of marriage, I knew him as well as I could have ever known him and still would have wanted to marry him all over again.

 Then on the Thursday before the Memorial Day weekend in 2002, I got a phone call at approximately 10:30 am.  The woman on the other end of the phone said, “Dianna?”  I said, “Yes” and the next phrase sent chills through my entire body.  The phrase that followed (which I will never forget) was, “You don’t know me, but I know you”.

 She informed me that John had been committing adultery with her for the past 3½ years—in some cases on a daily basis.  She lived in Gilroy and he would drop by her apartment most mornings before he went in to work.  He had even invited her into our home twice, cooked her dinner, and committed adultery in our bed while I was in San Jose taking care of my mother after her surgery.  He once took her to his mother’s home in Hollister and to the home we had rented in Gilroy and committed adultery with her in the back yards at those locations.  (There are many levels of infidelity—a “one night stand” for example.  I am only providing these specific details to help illustrate the full extent of his perversion and the level of his marital infidelity)

 He had told her that I was basically an invalid and he couldn’t live with himself if he deserted me when I was so needy.  He also told her that he had to support me as I was incapable of holding a job.  He assured her that he was faithful to her and that he didn’t really love me.  While at my house he allowed her to go through my closet and dresser drawers.  When she discovered the Depends that we kept on hand for John’s 90 year old mother, he informed her that they were mine; that I was incontinent.

 After hanging up the phone, I was actually experiencing physical shock.  I could barely breathe and my entire body felt numb.  I called Deni right away and asked her to please come over as I had something really horrible to share with her.  When she arrived, I recounted the entire conversation.  Although there were things about John that Deni didn’t particularly care for, she truly didn’t believe that John was capable of this level of betrayal and deception.  The stories that this woman had told about the frequency and perversion of their sexual encounters were unbelievable…to both of us.  Deni asked me what I was going to do.  I really didn’t have a plan; I just knew that I would have to confront my husband with all of this.  I called John at work and told him that I had just received a call from this woman.  He said, “I will be right home”  I asked Deni to leave and knew I had at least an hour and a half before he would arrive.  A part of me wished that it wasn’t true, that she was just a “sicko” and had made everything up.  But, she knew too many details about my life, my house, my bedroom and my husband.

 The car finally pulled up into the driveway.  When I confronted him with all of the information that I had gained during my 3 hour conversation with the adulteress, he never tried to deny any of it and in fact he confirmed that all of it was true and than said, “I should have known that she was the type to tell!”

 The physical pain that I was experiencing was so severe that I felt as though someone had reached through my chest, taken a hold of my heart and was attempting to pull it out of my body.  I began crying and yelling and groaning.  We had planned to spend the three day weekend with my grandparents in Pine Grove and instead I was faced with a reality that the man I thought I had been married to for 6 years was not the man I would be spending the next three days facing.

 The unusual thing (and ultimately a blessing because most betrayed spouses never get any closure…they always wonder how and why it happened) was that John allowed me to ask anything I wanted to ask and he was willing to disclose more than I probably needed to know.  The most important thing disclosed as a result of the adultery is that he admitted to me that he had never really repented and he had never really wanted to live for the Lord.  In fact, he told me that for many years and on many occasions he would use Christianity to disarm women into eventually having sexual relations with him.  When I asked him why he choose to pretend for over 25 years to be something that he was not;  why he would choose to exert so much effort to live a life of deception, he answered, “I just liked being around Christian’s…I like the way it makes me feel.”

 I moved in with Deni and asked that he eventually find a new place to live until we could sell the house.

 I had to inform our Pastor and his wife.  I knew that I would be unable to fulfill my obligations to the church (Newsletter, teaching, ministry involvement, etc).  I was in no shape to even tie my own shoes.  I truly felt as though I would die of a broken heart.  I could be walking around in the living room and all of a sudden begin to involuntarily vomit and would barely make it to the kitchen sink.  I couldn’t shake the idea that the man I had been married to for over 6 years never really existed.  His faith was a lie.  His devotion was a lie.  His love was a lie.  His friendship was a lie.  Basically everything he portrayed himself to be...was a lie.

 I remember saying that I would have rather been raped and beaten to near death by someone I didn’t know than to feel the pain that I was feeling.  I don’t know (now) if that is true, but that was the way I felt then.  I suppose being hurt by someone you have never known might be easier to recover from then being betrayed at this level by someone that you loved, trusted and had given your heart to.

 John told his friends immediately (the men in leadership) what had happened and they offered to meet with him weekly to pray and counsel him.  He assured them that he would cut it off with the other woman and told them he would do whatever it took to save his marriage.  They faithfully met with him once a week for an entire year.  There was no potential in my mind for reconciliation, but that was the last thing on my mind.  I was barely even able to function.  I was unable to actually believe that someone could live the lie that John had been living for most of his life.

 During the year that followed, I stayed with Deni and John bought a mobile home in a park in Gustine.  I attempted to sell the house, but was having no takers.  At the end of that year, he moved back into the house and I agreed to help him get the house ready to sell.  One morning, I went over to the house after John had left for work to begin clearing out the garage.  I walked in the back door and the phone was ringing.  I answered it.  (Keep in mind an entire year had passed since all of this was exposed and John had been meeting with the men from the church once a week for prayer and counsel) One the other end of the phone…was the adulteress.  Apparently, they had had an argument the night before and she was calling to see if he had left for work and to see if he was still mad at her.  She informed me that they had been seeing each other during the entire year that the men from the church had been meeting with John to pray for reconciliation and to help encourage him in his walk.

 After John was made aware of this conversation (I presume that she told him), he called the men and confessed it to them.  They immediately broke off fellowship with him.  I informed him that I would no longer be willing to help him with the house and that he was on his own.  He understood.

 So much more could be said about the way in which the church handled this entire situation, but I will leave that for another time.  To give you just a flavor: I was accused of “stone-walling” the Pastor (by the Pastor’s wife) when I declined to meet with him for counseling; and of being a “lone-ranger” Christian when I requested that the ladies not contact me until I felt the need to reach out.  In addition to that, the Pastor and the men kept encouraging John to return to church as though nothing had ever happened.

 During the first year, I basically turned to the Lord.  There were many times when I felt that I would either die of a broken heart or end up with a mental breakdown in a “psych” ward of some hospital.  Neither happened.

 I was driven by this pain into a deeper and closer relationship with the Lord than I had ever experienced.  All I had the strength to do was to read His Word, and anything else I could get my hands on that would speak of God’s grace.  The Lord used this time to introduce me to the “doctrines of grace” and the great saints of the past.  I grew more in my faith in one year than I had in the previous six years combined.  By the end of the second year I could honestly say, that I would never want what happened to have not happened if it would mean that I would have to forfeit where the Lord had brought me because of it.

 I realize now that this experience does not even come close to the level of pain and suffering that some people experience in life, but it was the most painful thing that I had ever experienced and through the heart break and pain I was able to experience, first hand and for the first time, that Christ is truly sufficient.

 John and I continued to correspond via email over the next 5 years and he continued to tell me that he loved me and that he had truly surrendered to the Lord Jesus Christ.  To this day, I pray that John has been saved by the grace of God and that his professed conversion is genuine.

 While I was John’s wife, my focus was first on serving him.  I am thankful now that I am free to serve the Lord more fully.

 People have asked me if I have forgiven John.  I can honestly say that I have.  Some of those same people tell me that if I had truly forgiven John that I would have wanted to be reconciled to him in marriage.  Forgiveness is an inward reality.  The best analogy I can use to illustrate this is as follows:  If you entrust your finances  into the hands of a brother and he squanders it all away at the poker table; all the while telling you that it has been safely and wisely invested; I believe you are called to forgive him once the truth be known.  However, I don’t believe that this forgiveness needs to affirmed by entrusting him, once again, to take care of your finances.

 Thought in 2002

 I realize that there are differing points of view regarding divorce and remarriage held by great men of God, i.e., John Piper, John MacArthur, R.C. Sproul, etc.  Some teach that divorce (in this situation) would be biblically allowed, but not remarriage; some teach that divorce would be allowed and that I would be free to remarry;  and others, that divorce is not an option under any circumstances; and on and on it goes.  To be honest with you, I would welcome the ability to turn to one official church authority when trying to determine the action that would be acceptable to the Lord.  At least then, God would hold them accountable instead of me if the action I ultimately took was wrong.  However, in this case, I wouldn’t know which authority to turn to, as I respect them equally, yet they have differing views on this matter.

 Without a clear position by the men of God, whom I respect; I am ultimately left to the dictates of my conscience through the study of God’s Word, prayer and being yielded to the prompting of the Holy Spirit.  While contemplating this, I thought of a scene from the movie Luther and played with the dialogue to fit this situation:  It rather amused me and I share it now with the hope that you might find it amusing, as well.  (Of course, only those readers who are familiar with Luther’s great speech at the Diet of Worms will find the following amusing):

 “Dianna, we would like a simple answer.  Will you, or will you not divorce?”

 “Very well, you ask for a simple answer.  Well here it is.  Unless I am convinced by scripture and not by Pipers, or MacArthurs, or Sprouls who have contradicted each other (at least on this issue).  Unless I am so convinced that I am wrong, my beliefs are bound by the text of the Bible.  My conscience is held captive to the Word of God.  To go against conscience is neither right nor safe.  Therefore, I should not?—or is it I absolutely can not divorce?    Where the heck should I stand!   God Help me.  Amen!”

 Please forgive the sarcasms.  I highly respect these men.  It is just sad that even they can’t agree with one another on what the Bible teaches regarding divorce and remarriage.

 Update 12/2006:

 After almost five years of separation, John finally filed for divorce in May of 2006, and our divorce was final on December 10, 2006.  Actually, at this time, my conscience is clear regarding my divorce.  In regard to remarriage, I still have not arrived at a point where a feel I am clear on God’s will.  Frankly, it is not that important to me, as I have no real desire to marry again and I am thankful to be free to serve Him without the added responsibilities marriage brings.

 I will see where the Lord leads.  I am so thankful that the Lord provided me with a faithful, loving, Christ centered, friend (Deni) and that He used her in a mighty way to help me through this difficult time.  She was such a patient and loving Christian sister throughout the entire process.  Just knowing that she was there and that she loved me was a blessing beyond measure.  I feel incredibly blessed just knowing that no matter what future pain and suffering might touch my life in the years to come, that Christ is indeed sufficient; God is indeed Sovereign!

 Update:  I later learned that, shortly after our divorce was finalized in 2006, John married one of the women he had been committing adultery with during our marriage, and filed for divorce from that wife in December of 2008.

 I want to encourage anyone reading this to place their trust fully in the Lord Jesus Christ; to truly embrace His all sufficient grace; and when faced with pain or suffering to meditate and trust in the Holy Spirit inspired words of the Apostle Paul, “we rejoice in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance, and perseverance, character, and character hope.  And hope does not disappoint.  For the love of God has been poured into our hearts by the Holy spirit, who was given to us.”

 When Christ is truly your all-in-all you can do nothing but rejoice…for even through the tears of a broken heart; you see the greatness of the glory of the grace of God in Jesus Christ our Lord.

 

2 Corinthians 12:9-10

And He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness." Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.  Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ's sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong.