Breaking Free

The following is a guest post by Laura Booz. Laura is on the speaking team of Pure Freedom, a ministry dedicated to equipping men and women of all ages to live a vibrant life of purity. She attends Penns Valley Community Church with her husband Ryan and is the proud mother of two adorable children: Vivienne and Lia.

A little over a month ago I posted a link to a testimony given by Laura’s husband, Ryan. In this talk he candidly shares the story about his porn addiction and how it nearly devastated his marriage. Shortly after hearing his talk I got in touch with Laura and asked her to share the same story from her perspective.

This is the first of three posts Laura is writing to share her story. Thanks, Laura, for being so open.

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Part 1: Making a Crisis Out of a Crisis

It couldn’t have happened at a worse time.

After the trauma of preterm labor, a month of bed-rest, and a 3-day long delivery, I was a new mom who had to constantly hold, nurse, or pump milk for our premature daughter. The around-the-clock care didn’t ease up after the first couple of weeks like they said it would. I was so exhausted that I felt delirious. You might know the feeling.

Yet, all this time, I felt a prompting in my spirit that said, Check your husband’s computer. I ignored the warning several times. I felt too drained to admit that Ryan might be looking at pornography while I was caring for the baby or enjoying any moments of sleep that came my way. I thought, I can’t take care of another person’s problems right now; he’s supposed to be the strong one . . . not me! Yet, I knew that in the past, when I had been sick, weak, or occupied with something else, Ryan would struggle more intensely with pornography. Thus far, no amount of disappointment, hurt, anger, conviction, or counseling seemed to solve the problem. The solutions we had tried only lasted until the temptation crept up again.

And yet, the prompting continued, Check your husband’s computer.

When I finally scanned the history on Ryan’s computer, I wasn’t surprised to find some images that he recently viewed. Even though I wasn’t surprised, I did feel freshly hurt and betrayed. I felt the familiar rush of jealousy, of wanting to look intently at every 2-dimensional woman to discover what she had that I didn’t have, what she did that I didn’t do, or what she was that I couldn’t be. I clenched my jaw and set my heart in disgust towards my husband: I hated this man who wasted our time, energy, and resources on lust while I worked so hard to take care of our family.

I held our precious baby in my arms as I sat at our kitchen table and wondered what I should do next. Then it dawned on me, Why should I sit here with a pit in my stomach while he waltzes through the day without a care in the world? I picked up the phone. When Ryan answered, I simply said, “You need to stop looking at pornography.” I knew that he could hear the finality in my voice; I knew that somehow, he got the message that I would not fight this losing battle any more. I hung up the phone, pleased with my concise drama. I wanted him to sweat this one out. I wanted to make a crisis out of this so that it would not be a part of our lives any more.

Five minutes later, Ryan pulled into the driveway and gushed every apology and every “I’ll try harder” he could concoct in an effort to appease me. I had heard it all before. I told him that unlike the past, I would not offer suggestions, solutions, or sympathy. The pattern had always been the same: when I initiated a plan of attack, he never followed through. This time, he had to figure something out that would actually change the pattern. And he had to figure it out himself. I decided to retreat with our daughter to my parents’ home. I needed time and distance to heal, rest, and consider my appropriate response. I needed my mother and my sisters, who would help me to take care of the baby, and I needed a good night’s sleep.

Tears streamed down my face as I packed my bags. In my flurry of mourning and moving, I heard God’s voice in my spirit, “You will not return to the same man. Your marriage will never be the same.” I thought the only feasible explanation was that we would be getting a divorce. I reasoned, Jesus had taught that when a man looks lustfully at another woman, he commits adultery with her in his heart; who could fault me for leaving an adulterous husband? Perhaps, I thought, God is supplying the appropriate excuse and time for me to end a relationship that brings me more heartache and regret than I can handle. I relished the prospect that God had a better man in mind for me. At the time, I couldn’t fathom that He meant Ryan.

(To be continued . . .)