authentic stories · on marriage

The Scandal Of Grace {Running & Hiding}


Read Part 1 {The Affair} here

I must have sat there in our driveway that night for a good half hour before mustering up enough courage to move my body out of the car and up the walkway that would lead to our living room where I knew my husband would be waiting up for me.

Just like I had imagined, and much to my disappointment, there he was, faithfully waiting up for me.

The scene of walking into our home that night is forever imprinted upon my memory. I will never forget how beautiful he was. A gentle smile came across his face when I walked into the room; which just seemed only to make everything much worse than it already was. I didn’t want him to be happy with me or to show me the love I didn’t deserve. In fact, it would have been easier if he hated me and was a horrible husband. I just wanted to sneak into bed alone and let him live apart from me. I knew what I was doing and that I wasn’t planning on giving it up, but I also knew he didn’t deserve my betrayal the same way I knew I didn’t deserve his love.

I felt dirty, ashamed, and like a total fraud. In fact, nothing about my life made sense or was clear anymore and I began to become disillusioned to truth and wonder if any of the good my husband and I had together had ever been real to begin with.


Truthfully, I desperately wanted to wish away the good as though it would better excuse my choices to destroy what we had together if nothing had ever truly been good to begin with.

I mean, why would I willingly choose ruin everything if my marriage was mostly good?

For the first time, I actually began to wish I could come up with some awful truth about the state of our marriage or the man I was married to that would make my fleshly indulgence a bit more palatable to my own conscience, and to the rest of the world.

But in the end, even in all of it’s imperfection, I knew that I could not blame our marriage or my husband for my choices. 

While it is true he had been working a lot, so often I felt more like a single mom than a married woman, even then I knew that would never hold up in the grand scheme of things. How many faithful spouses could say the exact same? How many single and married women alike would give their right arm for what I have?

Then there was his pornography addiction we had struggled and worked through time and again for years earlier in our marriage that maybe a part of me was still a little resentful over, but I had forgiven him. Even then I wasn’t naive enough to believe that any marriage is perfect or never goes through dry spells, or that any imperfection is a legitimate excuse to wholly betray the man I loved; the man I had promised my heart and my faithfulness to some nine years ago.

On the other hand, the other side, the much less logical part of me wasn’t so sure I was ready to out myself and end it all; because after all, it is wholly true that there is pleasure in sin… for a season. I would be lying if I didn’t admit that so much of me was enjoying the intoxicating emotional high of the new love and lust (mostly lust) of a secret affair. Truth, it was overwhelming and empowering – intoxicatingly so. Like living in another dimension of another world, in someone else’s story that wasn’t your own, an escape from the reality of the real world, with all of its pressures and struggles. As awful as I felt about it all, I wasn’t exactly ready to just give that up.

White Bed Sheets

So on this night, and others to follow, I went to bed with my husband, as if everything was exactly as it should be, and loved him. I never stopped loving him, not even for a moment. Even in the midst of my ridiculousness. And as much as I might have wanted to or wished I could, I never blamed him for my actions, or anyone for that matter.

{The unbearable weight of my sin would eventually fall squarely on my own shoulders for a time. But not today.}

I was fully aware of what I was doing and fully aware of the consequences that could follow. But for now, I decided not to care. I was having far too much fun “making myself happy” to call the whole thing off, confess, and come clean.


The days that followed that first night continued in an obsessive whirlwind of endless texts, phone chats, plans for secret getaways, and plans of a future together which included discussions of us both walking away from our present reality for a new life with one another. It would be simple, we would both leave our spouses and raise our children together in a new place, with a new life. Easy right?

People in the midst of affairs and fleshly pleasure (emotional or otherwise) don’t stop to contemplate the inevitable devastation to come. Nor do they realize that in the end, no one gets out happy. 

But even then, I was at least acutely aware of how ridiculous the entire thing was. But I was plain tired of not being ridiculous. Truth is, I was tired. I just wanted a divorce from reality. I wanted to know what it felt like to not always “do the right thing,” I wanted a vacation from the role of responsible wife and mom who held it all together, to have a little fun – to enjoy being young and beautiful and passionately wanted by someone who didn’t have to want me, but did anyways.

{I’ve spent the past five years since the affair analyzing and picking apart the details of my story and my actions only to admit, there is no sense to made of sin other than this truth}:

I just wanted what I wanted.

And for a time, I sincerely didn’t care about whatever wreckage it would create, the hearts it would break, or the pain we would all endure. I did not care.

I wanted what I wanted. I wanted to be selfish, indulgent, and reckless because I had darn well earned the right to have a little fun and make. myself. happy. for once.

Such is the natural state of every single human heart apart from truth. 

I could never speak for others, but I do know that the major problem for me in living like I was was this, I was never my own, my life was not my own. I had already been won over by love and bought with a price. If I chose to run from that forever I would eventually lose the very thing I had convinced myself I was trying desperately to save – myself and my freedom. 

11600624Still, for now I was both hiding and running.

Hiding from the truth inside that chased me down like a wave chasing the inevitable shoreline. Running, full force ahead into a dark world of my own making. A dark world that would threaten to change everything, to destroy everything, forever. 


    You discern my going out and my lying down;
    you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue
    you, Lord, know it completely. You hem me in behind and before,
    and you lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
    too lofty for me to attain. Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? ~Psalm 139:3-7

……to be continued in Part 3 

9 thoughts on “The Scandal Of Grace {Running & Hiding}

  1. Rachel,
    I have always been a fan of your blog. I love the way your write and somehow your writings always speak to me personally. Scandal of Grace is no exception. I have not cheated on my husband but I have been cheated on. We somehow made it through but it’s not all roses even after so many years. Oh how I wish I could sit down with you over a cup of coffe and just talk about life. Thank you for following your calling and I’m so happy that your story has a happy ending. I’m on the edge of my seat waiting for part 3.


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