Thanks for all your posts.  A lot of great contributions here.  One of the reason why I'm thinking about faith is the fact that I understand that being GID can be very hard for a man and also represents a lot of suffering. Let s think about it.  I feel like some gay man would definitely prefer to be straight if they could and that why they ended marrying a woman, expecting it will change them.  A some point they pay God to change them but it just does not happen.  Is it because they did not pray hard enough I don t know.  My husband definitely is more christian than I am, but still ended up doing things that hurt us now.  Maybe I failed as his wife because I did not pray enough myself.  I did not help him. enough having a better life, like drinking or smoking less.  I always accepted him how he was with his flaws but for some reason he still have this big secrets he can t tell.  Faith is really confusing I think sometimes,  but maybe I should just believe that God has a better plan in mind.

Phoenix, I really love your mantra " my former life ended in flames, but my new life will be spectacular. "  

OK, so my post below is long!  My faith has really helped me through all of this, although it has also created some inner conflict, which has possibly made things harder.

Just as background: I am 8 months post-discovery in my 28-year marriage, which has been a hard marriage.  I am still married, and I am really unclear and troubled about my next steps.  Until just recently, I could hardly focus enough to write down a daily to-do list because of the inner turmoil.  So right now my focus is daily—seeking health and equilibrium for myself and my children.

There are some lovely and supportive thoughts in this thread and I thank each person who contributed because these thoughts have meant a lot to me, like a little online congregation that is safe and understanding.

I have a deep faith in God and try to follow Christ, especially in loving my neighbor no matter who that might be.  I believe God is bigger than we can imagine, and that His mercy is also bigger than we can imagine.  Since I was a small child, I have had an active internal spiritual life, and I seek God not just through standard ways like scripture study and prayer and meditation, but also in whatever way I am drawn to Him.  I also actively seek the feminine divine—so I guess I am both traditionally Christian and also a little new-age-ish.

I also participate regularly in a local congregation of other Christian believers.  Belief for me is social as well as internal. I believe Christ and God intend and require social connections as part of our belief. I mean, how can we really be followers if we are not making choices to follow God and Christ in our real daily lives, in real relationships?

So! This—TGT!  And recently learning about TGT in my 28-year-with-4-children marriage!  This has been just the hardest thing I have ever ever faced.  The hardest thing in all ways, including spiritually.  It feels like every single thing I have lived, and every single thing I want and feel and believe and hold most dear is in conflict with everything else. I have been so confused, and not sure how to reconcile it all.  This is really saying something, because I am really good at dealing with ambiguity and not having to reconcile everything!

I have felt some strong spiritual understandings through this all, where my faith has supported my pain, and where my pain has grown my faith:

First, I keep considering life as a place to exercise my free will—we call it “free agency” in my church.  And I  keep thinking how this is not just to keep a list of commandments to prove my worthiness before God, but that this is to really face and make hard moral choices so that I can be more like God.

I keep thinking that as I work out my moral choices in real situations, as I try to be compassionate toward others and also to myself, then I have to make some pretty difficult moral decisions—things are not always simple.  The “right choice” is not always evident.  Sometimes there just is no “right choice.”  Sometimes the choices are impossible! 

For me, TGT has churned all of this into a horrific storm of having to make impossible choices.  Everything looks like pain and grief.  Everything looks like harm to someone.  Everything is scary.  The things I believe and have molded my life around still do not give me the answers.  So I have to muddle through.

I have come to feel that making these impossible choices—facing and figuring stuff out when it is unclear while still aiming for compassion—this process—in spite of feeling ripped apart—this process makes me whole.  I mean:  really WHOLE, as in HOLY.  These impossible choices make me solid, more like God and Christ, because I have to FACE and OWN my choices.  I have to do the hard moral work.  Iehave to own the consequences.  I have to use the power of my free agency and also then face the power of what happens.  I cannot make God responsible for my choices, nor anyone else.  I have to do it.  So through all of this, I become more like God, more knowing, more feeling, more real, more solid, more responsible.  (I absolutely do not mean this in a blasphemous way—just in a sense of “what does it mean to live a Godly life?”)

Next, I have come to feel Christ’s Atonement more.  He died not just for my sins, but for the pain of the world.  I may not understand how, but I believe his Atonement will somehow make up for the consequences of my impossible and halting choices. Not that his suffering takes away all the pain of life right here and right now, but that somehow, it will all work out. This makes me less afraid—his Gift means I can act even in my unclear view and that the consequences will somehow—somehow—be ok.  Eventually, when we see him again, He will “wipe away all tears.”

Next, I have become so much more empathetic.  I know now, in the depths of my soul, that everyone around me carries a burden.  A hymn in my church says, “In the quiet heart is hidden sorrow that the eye can’t see.”  Yes. Sometimes the brightest smiles hide some enormous hidden sorrows, which I may never know and which even if I knew about, I might not fully understand, except that these sorrows are deep and personal, and so can at least weep, as I believe God weeps, and I can help others to bear their sorrows by not judging, by always offering a kind word to everyone.

Another strong spiritual understanding to me has been that “Christ is our example in all things.” And this example includes his suffering.  Christ begged God to remove the bitter cup.  Sometimes we also have to drink the bitter cup.  We cannot always escape it.  God will not always take it away, no matter how faithful we are.  When we have to drink our own bitter cup, when we wonder if God has forsaken us, we can follow Christ by continuing to believe in God, and remembering that Christ made it through.  God sent angels to support Christ in his agony.  I hope there are angels supporting me too.  Alhough it is still so painful that I am not sure I can endure it sometimes, I believe I am not alone, and there is One who understands. 

Another smaller spiritual prompting: Christ did not die for “marriage”; he died for individuals.  I have felt it is important to honor my marriage vows because these were holy, that I should not “betray” my spouse.  But my spouse has already betrayed me.  The vows were broken already, by him.  Christ died for me—and yes he died for my husband—but he did not die for “marriage.”

Another small spiritual thought: Christ already died to redeem my husband.  He does not expect me to die to redeem my husband too.  I am not supposed to save my husband by sacrificing myself and giving up my life altogether.  I mean, sure, sacrifice is a part of living and caring for others. We are to be generally selfless, not generally selfish.  But at a certain point, NO.  It is not my job—and in fact it is wrong—for me to absorb all the consequences of my husband’s actions to somehow save him from facing himself.  My husband has to walk his own path before God.  My husband has to work out his own salvation with Christ.  I will treat my husband with compassion and kindness, but this does not mean I myself do not deserve compassion and kindness and a whole life, separate from my husband.

Here are the words from a hymn in my church—I love this hymn, a poem by Emma Lou Thayne:

Where can I turn for peace? Where is my solace
When other sources cease to make me whole?
When with a wounded heart, anger or malice,
I draw myself apart, Searching my soul?

Where, when my aching grows, Where, when I languish?
Where, in my need to know, where can I run?
Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?
Who, who can understand? He, only One.

He answers privately, Reaches my reaching.
In my Gethsemane, Savior and Friend.
Gentle the peace he finds, for my beseeching.
Constant he is, and kind—Love without end.

Last edited by OnMyOwnTwoFeet (January 23, 2019 12:55 pm)

Thanks Estella.  It is risky to write about faith-related things.  Thank you for reading and for your kindness.

OnMyOwnTwoFeet wrote:

Christ did not die for “marriage”; he died for individuals. I have felt it is important to honor my marriage vows because these were holy, that I should not “betray” my spouse. But my spouse has already betrayed me. The vows were broken already, by him. Christ died for me—and yes he died for my husband—but he did not die for “marriage.”

Another small spiritual thought: Christ already died to redeem my husband. He does not expect me to die to redeem my husband too. I am not supposed to save my husband by sacrificing myself and giving up my life altogether. I mean, sure, sacrifice is a part of living and caring for others. We are to be generally selfless, not generally selfish. But at a certain point, NO. It is not my job—and in fact it is wrong—for me to absorb all the consequences of my husband’s actions to somehow save him from facing himself. My husband has to walk his own path before God. My husband has to work out his own salvation with Christ. I will treat my husband with compassion and kindness, but this does not mean I myself do not deserve compassion and kindness and a whole life, separate from my husband.

.

Thanks for this. Awesome 1

Yesterday I finally told my husband that I wanted to leave.  I realize that the issue is not just TGT itself but the simple fact that I m not in love with him anymore.  I guess TGT probably contributed to that in a certain way but I want to take full responsibility for my part. I regret that I did not ask the right questions the first time I saw things I did not feel comfortable with.  I regret I did not take the proper time to investigate TGT. Now I feel like I m leaving while I m not 100% sure, and I m guilty for not having the same feelings for him anymore.  But I d probably be more guilty if I stayed in a relationship where both of us would be miserable because I no longer have this kind of love to give.

I realized I did not pray enough while we were together, I never asked God to guide my husband in his choices, I did not ask God to make us stronger everyday to go through our relationship.  But there is only one truth is that there nothing I can do about the past now.  I am in this place where I d love to be this perfect christian wife who saved her husband with same sex attraction from sin.  But there s nothing I can do about it if he would not even admit it.  To him watching porn including gay porn is still no big deal and he still can t understand why I refuse to believe the story about the condoms I found.

So I understand that I no longer belong in the relationship and I need to move on with my life.  I want a quiet break up and he agreed with that.  I am concerned of what we will tell our 2 young kids and the family too.

I can already hear people judging me if I say that I left because I was no longer in love or I no longer believed this relationship could make me happy in the long run.  I've lost the faith and hope in this relationship and now   I'm just selfish and this is hard to accept.