Hello Father,
I do not know where to begin. Everything is wrong. All of it.
I disobeyed you, and I have fallen so far that I do not even know how to stand in your presence anymore. Me — the man who used to pray without effort. Now I can barely open my mouth. The words will not come. Prayer, the one thing that was always easy for me, has become the hardest thing I have ever had to do.
She is gone, Father. My wife is gone. She took our eight-month-old son and left. The house is quiet in a way I cannot describe. I did this. I know I did this.
All she ever did was love me. And this is how I repaid her.
You warned me. You told me not to go near my ex-girlfriend, and I thought I knew better. I actually thought my faith was strong enough. I thought lust had no hold on me anymore. The arrogance of that. The sheer arrogance. I opened my front door and invited darkness straight in.
When the Holy Spirit told me not to pick up her call — I felt it, Father, I felt it — and I picked up anyway. If only I had listened. If only I had not been fooled by the pretence of her wanting to give her life to Christ. I used your kingdom as a cover. I lied to myself and called it ministry.
I was respected, Father. People looked up to me. They held me in high regard. Now? Everything I built is gone. All of it, gone.
Have mercy on me, Lord. Do not be far from me, not now. You were right to uncover me. You were right to expose what was within me, because I couldn’t see it myself. I was blind. Conceited. A fool dressed in faith.
Where do I go from here? How do I start again? How do I get her back?
When she found out, she could not even look at me. I have never seen her cry like that — not like that. The sound she made, Father. I cannot get it out of my head. This was a woman who took so long to trust me because of what others had done to her in the past. It took everything in her to let me in. And I stood in front of her and promised I would never be like them.
I broke that promise. I broke our vows. I humiliated her so badly that she could not even face the church. Some of them scorned her publicly — the same people who used to admire her, admire us. She could not show her face. She packed her things and walked out, and I do not know where she is.
I have done this more than once, Father. I am so ashamed to even write that.
Please. Please do not let this be how my marriage ends. How do I get back to you? How do I make her love me the way she used to?
I surrender this lust to you, right now, all of it. I should have done this a long time ago. I should have brought it to your feet instead of burying it in excuses. I did not. And now I have lost everything.
Have mercy on me. Please. For your name’s sake, have mercy on me.
_______ Kenneth.
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