On August 12, 1988, my husband, Patrick, confessed he'd committed adultery.
His revelation was as unbelievable as if someone had told me the moon had fallen from the sky. The man who told me he'd lived a secret life of sexual sin seemed so different from the man to whom I'd been married for nine years.
My rage, disillusionment, and confusion were intense. Yet Pat was so broken, so willing to do whatever it took to break free from his sexual addiction, that despite my anger and hurt, I agreed to go through counseling with him.
There came a moment during counseling when I thought our marriage would end. I was five months pregnant, and we had a four-year-old daughter. Our counselor sat with me one night and said, "Connie, you have to accept the possibility Patrick might not break free." That was the worst night of my life. It was only my confidence in God that gave me the courage to hold on.
But as the months went by, Pat found the strength to change, and our marriage was slowly, painfully restored. I discovered I needed God's grace as much as Pat did. And I had to choose—with God's help—to remember that if God could forgive Pat's wrongs, I could, too. Today, almost 11 years after Pat's confession, thanks to God's love and power, our life together is better than ever before.1