My parents have always had a tumultuous relationship. I always knew they loved each other, and from what I’ve been told, their early years were very happy. They were high school sweethearts, and they both became born-again Christians at eighteen and married shortly after their conversions. Within five years, they had three daughters, with me being the middle child. I remember growing up in Word of Faith church, a Pentecostal congregation in downtown New Orleans, Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday night, small groups, choir rehearsals (Mom sang and Dad played the drums), and we also went to school at the church. Our lives revolved around the church, and my parents had an open-door policy for church members who were struggling or just needed a hot meal.
When I was in 6th grade, my parents left the church. I didn’t fully understand it as a kid, but it was a combination of church politics and poor leadership that caused a lot of pain, especially for Mom. She refused to return to church until many years later, and although Dad made a couple of half-hearted attempts to bring us kids back, we never seemed to find a place as a family that felt like home again.
Mom and Dad began growing apart in our teenage years. Mom had a lot of health complaints and spent time going from doctor to doctor trying to figure out what was wrong. She was diagnosed with fibromyalgia, depression and restless leg syndrome and ended up addicted to many different prescription drugs. Over time Dad began going out at night to play pool (billiards) and compete in tournaments. Eventually Dad had an affair, and the marriage ended. Mom went into a recovery center and was able to stop the drug use, and she never stopped praying that God would restore their marriage.
In 2003, after seven years of being separated and divorced, my parents remarried. It was a sweet time; we celebrated Christmas together as a restored family. My parents were happy and in love again. We knew God had done something special for our family;
He had answered many prayers and our hearts were filled with gratitude.
Over time, some of the same unhealthy patterns in their relationship began to emerge. Dad had worked as a carpenter, and then owned his own computer business, but he had become heavily involved in fitness training and diet coaching in the 2000s. Mom had no interest in the world of gyms and bodybuilding and restrictive diets, but she tried to go along with it for a while. On November 7th, 2010, my parents’ 40th anniversary, Dad announced that he had met someone at the gym and he was leaving Mom. She was shocked; we were all shocked. I was living in Virginia at the time with my husband and three kids, and I remember thinking that I needed to fly down and be there for my mom. It felt like I was going to attend the funeral of a marriage that was over… again.
I had been listening to a message on our identity in Christ and I was so overwhelmed with sadness that I dozed off on the couch.
I remember being startled awake by a voice that said, “Your dad has forgotten who he is. Call him and remind him.”
I picked up the phone and called him, and he answered. I began speaking truth to him, saying, “Dad, you are a son of the living God! This is not you, you are not acting out of your true self!” He began to weep and asked me to visit. I booked a ticket and was there a couple of days later. When I arrived, Dad had plans to run off with this woman. Yet while I was there, I sat at Dad’s feet and sang over him, “How deep the Father’s love for us, How vast beyond all measure, That He would give His only son, to make a wretch His treasure….” and something changed. Dad believed many lies about his life and about how God would ‘bless’ this ungodly relationship he was in, with a woman who was married and had two kids. The woman’s husband called Mom and told her he wasn’t going to stand by while she wrecked their family; we decided to take the same position.
Mom and I and my sisters prayed like never before. We agreed this was a demonic attack against our family and we wouldn’t allow the Enemy to win.
Within three days of my arrival, the affair was over and Dad understood that he had made a colossal mistake. Mom decided to come home with me for a month to rest and recover, and God blessed that time together.
It was difficult for Mom, but she decided to go back to Dad. It has been twelve years since the second affair, and they are still together. Dad has committed to being there for Mom to the end.
Rebekah