My Husband's Affair Became the Best Thing That Ever Happened to Me (16 page)

“No. You and Brian are not soul mates,” I said. “Brian is my soul mate.”

“Look, Helen,” I continued. “I know this will be hard for you to understand, because you do not believe in God, as Brian and I do, but when you have a faith like Brian does, you cannotjust walk away from it and still feel good about yourself.”

“I’m aware of Brian’s religious convictions,” she said. “But I think

Brian has been questioning these beliefs for quite some time.”

I realized, at this point, that my attempt to reason with Helen was somewhat pointless. Bringing up Brian’s spirituality under these circumstances was futile.

“I know you are really fighting this,” Helen said. “But Brian is the one who will decide who he wants to spend the rest of his life with.”

“Yes, he is,” I agreed.

I didn’t like it, but it was true.

“I’m tall and slim,” was the next thing I remember her saying. Was she trying to scare me off, intimidate me, or get me to quit trying? Were tall and slim the most desirable qualities in a female? Or was she worried I might not recognize her when she opened the door to her home for me on Monday morning? I thought she was ridiculous.

Finally, she told me how to find her house and our conversation was finished.

Hanging up the phone, I realized the term soul mate had just taken on a new and negative connotation for me. I now hated that phrase. It seemed that I hated a lot of things these days.
How dare this woman say to me she was my husband’s soul mate?
I thought she sounded like a stupid bimbo. I groaned just thinking about it.

Then there was her comment about wanting to have a positive impact in the lives of my children. What was wrong with this woman? Was my husband not enough? Now she wanted my children as well? Over my dead body would she have a positive impact in the lives of my children.

I wondered what I could do to stop it, but I realized I wouldn’t need to stop it. My children would not be interested in the woman who replaced their mother to their father, under these circumstances. Helen was living a fantasy.

For the next couple of hours I busied myself around my home, taking care of necessary domestic tasks. Again my day was interrupted by the intrusive telephone. When I answered this time, to my surprise, it was one of my coworkers, Susan Shanahan.

She was a beautiful individual, with distinctive class, character and reasonable financial resources. At times Susan was perceived by others as being a bit of a snob. In reality, she was a down-to-earth, caring, compassionate and sensitive individual. Yet for the most part we were little more than acquaintances, our paths rarely crossing beyond the realm of our work.

“Anne, I don’t know what it is,” she started, “but this past week, I have not been able to stop thinking about you. You have been really heavy on my heart all week. I have been praying for you steadily. Finally, since I can’t stop thinking about you, I decided tojust give you a call. I’m wondering, are you okay?”

Susan had never phoned me unexpectedly at home before. The timing and accuracy were amazing. There was only one way she could have sensed something was up with me, and that way involved something beyond the walls of the five senses. This was a small miracle, and it provided me with a jolt of encouragement. Not so much because she called and cared, but because I recognized her as a messenger, carrying a message from Someone greater than this world, and that Someone apparently cared about me.

The message was
I am taking care of you. I have not forgotten you.
Sensing this phone call was a divine appointment for my benefit, I confided in Susan the truth, even though I was not supposed to.

I told her everything, and once again, I felt so much better for the opportunity to define my emotions out loud.

“Oh Anne! Your entire world is turned upside down isn’t it?” she said.

Her words comforted me. I felt understood, and for a moment I sensed the tension in my muscles ease.

But as I continued to unload my burden, I wound myself right back up again.

“He likes the other woman better because she likes sports,” I told

Susan. “I always complained when Brian watched sports. I didn’t know how much they meant to him. I wish I had understood this. But sports aren’t that bad. I’m going to like sports from now on too.”

She was a wise lady. She immediately caught the unhealthy behavior pattern, the ridiculous obsession and the error in my thinking, and carefully nipped it in the bud.

“Anne, it’s fine for you to take an interest in sports for the sake of your husband, but do not lose sight of your own identity,” she said. “You do not need to change who you are to win Brian’s affections back. You are a wonderful person as you are. I’m sure the other woman’s interest in hockey is not the real reason why he is leaving you. That’s just what he is saying right now. You don’t leave a marriage after eighteen years because your spouse doesn’t like hockey.”

Don’t lose sight of your own identity. You do not need to change who you are to win Brian’s affections back.
Her words carried a significant impact, and I pondered them often, as I walked my personal journey to healing in the days and months ahead.

While driving the short distance to the park, where I was meeting Lori for an afternoon walk, I listened to a CD titled
Hillsongs from Australia.
The following song accompanied me on my drive:

My Heart Will Trust

I’ll walk closer now on the higher way, Through the darkest night will you hold my hand, Jesus, guide my way.

For you mourn, with me and you dance with me

For my heart of hearts is bound to you.

Though I walk through valleys low,

I will fear no evil

Like the water stills my soul

My heart will trust in you.

For you counsel me, and you comfort me

When I cannot see, you light my path. f

The words comforted me, and, again, tears flowed, tears which carried the poison of pain out of my body.

As we walked, Lori and I discussed my upcoming meeting with Helen. First of all, I intended to fight Helen with kindness. I would even give her a friendship card.

I told Lori that I had no real purpose in my meeting with Helen, other than to meet her, see what she looked like, and put an end to the mystery and my own vain imaginations. Perhaps my forgiveness would be easier when I saw that she was not a devil-horned temptress out to ruin the lives of others, but rather another woman, another real human being with needs and hurts, just like me.

I also planned to bring along something I’d once seen at a conference about relationships. It was a prop, really, a teaching aid that illustrated the effect of broken relationships on people.

Lori thought it was a great idea, and as we concluded our walk, reminded me that she would be praying for me, and that she thought I was handling everything very well.

In an effort to continue to care for my family, I had placed a chicken in the oven to roast for dinner. Brian told me he would be home after work to tell the children he was leaving. Still, I was outdoing myself trying to create a pleasant and inviting atmosphere, hoping he would change his mind.

I continued to avoid food, believing that fasting and prayer might save my marriage. During the past ten days, I had four meal replacement drinks, an occasional piece of fruit and one bowl of borscht.

At 6:00 PM, with Brian not home yet, I decided to proceed with dinner without him. I lifted the lovely and aromatic roast chicken from the oven and began to carve it up for my children. I looked at it longingly. It was the first time I had been tempted by substantial food in over a week. I stood there, now almost in a trance, contemplating eating a piece of the succulent meat.

Chicken would be good for me,
I was thinking,
and it’s not fattening.
I was nearly ready to have a bite right out of a leg, when a voice broke the silence.

“Don’t eat it, Mom.” The voice caught me by surprise. It was Tamara. She had picked up that I was fasting, but didn’t know why and certainly had no idea what was going on between Brian and I. I asked Tamara if she was pleased that I was fasting and she said she was. Upon hearing this confession, I returned the chicken leg to its place on the serving platter and served dinner to my children, but ate nothing myself.

The supper hour gave way to bed time, and there was still no sign of Brian.

Returning to my darkened bedroom, my life broken and torn, I wondered how I could make it through yet another night. I felt so alone, so frail and so helpless.

When I became a Christian eighteen years earlier a particular verse in the Bible stood out as being meaningful and personal for me.

Delight thyself also in the Lord;

And he shall give thee the desires of thine heart.

PSALM 37:4

The only real desire I had ever really owned in my heart was the desire to be part of a family. I wanted to belong somewhere and to someone. As a child, I never knew this. I grew up alone most of the time, my single parent mother struggling to survive life herself, in a time when mothers and fathers generally still stayed together and single parents were shunned. Not very many friends were allowed to come to my home. We were the bad people. And the fact that we moved across the Atlantic Ocean so often made it nearly impossible to keep friends, fit in, be normal or acquire nice things. Each time we moved, I had to leave most of my belongings behind.

But all of that had been okay, because at the age of twenty, I had become a Christian, and then God had given me the only thing I ever really wanted: a family. Sure, I didn’t get to be the kid, but I got to be the mom, and that was okay with me. I often encouraged others by sharing my personal story, and whenever I did, I concluded by sharing the verse, Psalm 37:4.

Psalm 37:4 isn’t true. God lied.
I cried to myself as I thought these thoughts. I would never again be able to share my story, I thought, because it was no longer true. The desire of my heart, a family, had been taken way.

As I sat desperate and devastated in my bedroom that night, the silence was disturbed again by the telephone.

This time it was my friend Andrea, the wife of one of the leaders in the church who knew about our situation.

“I just wanted to phone to encourage you,” she said, “but I don’t really know what to say.”

So I did the talking, told her about the recent events in my life and the fears I had for my family’s future. Although I shared with her, I kept my darkest feeling to myself. I didn’t want to reveal my weak side.

“Before I go,” Andrea said. “I have a scripture to share with you, which I believe the Lord has laid on my heart for you. It’s Psalm 37:4.
Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will grant you the desires of your heart.”

I nearly dropped the telephone receiver. Andrea couldn’t have known what that verse meant to me, and she certainly had no insight into my private thoughts of the past hour.

It was another small miracle!

I was not alone, and I was not forgotten.

CHAPTER 11
Danielle calls the other woman 

DAY ELEVEN-FRIDAY, MAY 2 6, 2 0 00
The Reckoning

Time has got a little bill—get wise while yet you may,

For the debit side’s increasing in a most alarming way;

The things you had no right to do, the things you should have done,

They’re all put down; it’s up to you to pay for every one.

So eat, drink and be merry, have a good time if you will,

But God help you when the time comes, and you

Foot the bill.

ROBERT SERVICE

The doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of the cable man. He was here to hook me up to the world of sports. I was determined to

outdo Helen in everything, including television viewing skills.

When the cable was hooked up, I settled into a comfy chair with the remote in hand. I could love sports just like Helen did. I would figure out what it was that was so great about them. Hockey was supposed to be a big deal right now. The NHL playoffs were in progress.

But as I flipped through the channels, I couldn’t find any sports to watch. I turned off the TV and made a mental note to purchase a
TV Guide
during the course of the day.

Later, while I was cleaning the house so it would be perfect “just in case” Brian came home, Brian phoned.

“Hi,” he said. “I thought I’d let you know that I’m going to come home tonight. I’m gonna deal with this thing and tell the kids. We’ve stalled long enough. And by the way, I’m not bringing Helen. That’s my final decision.”

I was relieved about the Helen issue, although I didn’t tell Brian. I figured that the request had likely already served its purpose.