For Better… and For Worse - Jo Foo

I find myself mopping my floors, thanks to the fact that our part-time cleaners couldn’t come over during this period of lockdown. And I started to think about what I could share on “The Proverbs 31 Industrious Woman”. 

That was the original title for this article, but God had other plans. My hair is in a high bun, sweating as I continued to mop, I could sense the familiar nudge of the Holy Spirit and I heard God’s whisper “I gave you a story of redemption, didn’t I? Why aren’t you telling that story?” 

Oh, Father, I argued back, “surely you don’t want me to tell that story publicly, possibly ruining my husband’s career and reputation?”

I know better than to argue with God but there are moments that I like to wrestle with Him. I find that I gain a deeper intimacy with the loving Father when I do.

As per usual, God took care of the details. When I approached my husband about sharing this story, our story, God had already prepared him and his heart. 

So here it goes.

It was late into the night, it was March of 2016. We were in bed and I sat up, turned to my husband of 13 years and asked him the most random question, “Are you messing about outside?” There was no suspicion, I just had the sudden urge to ask but I wasn’t prepared for what happened next. My husband sat up in bed, shocked. He didn't have to say a word, his face said it all. I knew he had been unfaithful, he had indeed broken our marriage vows.

As I write this, it’s easy to tell you the story now because God has redeemed and restored our marriage. But the journey to get here was far from easy.

I have to lay it upfront, I was never just the victim. Oftentimes one hears stories of adultery, and it would be easy to draw the conclusion that the cheating spouse was the perpetrator and the other the victim. The truth is, we were both perpetrators and we were both victims. It is a lose-lose situation... unless God intervenes.

It’s true what they say, marriages are hard work, it takes two hands to clap to the same beat and create a rhythm. I have never believed that love in marriages is unconditional. Tear me down enough times and you will stop having my respect. Reject me enough times and I will love you less. This was what our marriage began to look like - I started to respect him a little less every day, and he started to love, or at least demonstrate his love for me a little less every day. 

Our first few years were blissful. We made it a point to have 6-month checkpoints, to ensure we were both aligned and headed in the same direction. We knew how to have fun. But around the seventh year, our marriage started to look less like a union and more of a method of function. Our conversations were centred around kids and chores and even in these things we rarely aligned.

Soon our conversations became shorter and shorter - both in length and in tone. 

Deep down, I knew we still loved each other, but we just didn’t like each other’s company very much and we allowed resentment to build in our hearts. We hardly laughed with each other and found it easier to laugh in the company of others. We kept looking for respite outside of our home, not with each other, and not with God.

That’s why I said I was both victim and perpetrator. I was every bit to blame as he was. 

The first few months after discovering the affair were painful. My husband moved back to his parent's house, to give us some space. Nights were especially difficult, I would pack up my passport, along with my kids’ and every night, I would stare at the empty suitcases and think about moving back to Sydney where my extended family lived. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to stay in this marriage, after all, I could use this as my ticket out.

As painful as those nights were, they were also the most peaceful. Amidst the storm, I would hear God’s soft voice say “Daughter, will you come back to me now?” The truth was, I was very far from God. We served in church, we portrayed a life that appeared as if we had it all together, but we were broken. Our hearts had become callous, towards each other and towards God. 

Isn’t it amazing that God never once said “Forgive your husband”, or “stay in your marriage.” He only wanted me to come back to Him. He was never instructional in those times, He was merely comforting. So I did, I came back to God and allowed Him to have His way with me. It wasn’t pleasant initially, peeling back the layers and confronting my own shortcomings, my own failings, as a wife. 

My husband had his own journey with God, He truly repented, was very remorseful and was willing to do whatever it took to make our marriage work. He had to rely fully on God’s strength, his own strength wouldn’t have been enough to take on my bad days. We had a couple of counselling sessions, slowly worked through our issues and we learnt to communicate again. The real work began once we made the decision to save our marriage. We slowly learnt to love each other in a way that God wanted us to. For my husband, it was to love and cherish his wife, even on my bad days. For me, it was to love and respect my husband, even when I didn’t think he deserved it.

Our marriage today is far from perfect, but it is stronger than it has ever been. I am grateful to wake up every morning to a man who is not only my husband but is also my best friend and a person I genuinely love spending time with. What the enemy intended for evil, God will use for good. No person or circumstance is beyond God’s redemption and restoration - what a privilege it is to be able to tell the story of a marriage that has survived the odds of infidelity. My heart is that we will always be a church unafraid of talking about the hard stuff because in doing so, we not only bless others, we bless the heart of God who gave us a story to tell.

Written By Jo Foo

Jo is on team at Kingdomcity in Kuala Lumpur. She is mother to Zachary and Jaden, and wife to Ben.