My Story

When Love Isn’t Enough: A Christian Husband’s Story of Trust, Loss, and Faith

I was first married at 19 to a woman who led me to Christ. She grew into an incredible woman, and looking back, she was far more patient with me than I deserved. I knew very little Scripture at the time, but like many young men, I clung to the verse about wives submitting to their husbands without understanding the heart behind it. Despite my immaturity, she was loving and remains one of the most Christlike people I know.

Over time, we grew apart, and eventually I was unfaithful. She fought hard to reconcile, but sin had a grip on me and I allowed myself to be led further away. Eventually, she filed for divorce.

After that, I spent ten years living with a girlfriend—continuing down a path I knew wasn’t right. I’m thankful to say she has since rekindled her relationship with Christ and is one of the most driven people I know in her faith.

Years later, I had a friend named Scott whose wife was Katie. I didn’t know Katie well, but I admired her from a distance. She was a respected labor and delivery nurse, known to be one of the best in the state. Scott often seemed unhappy in their marriage, but whenever we talked about Katie, it was obvious she was intelligent and a major contributor to their success.

Over the years, my interactions with her were minimal—maybe a few brief messages, such as asking for ideas for Scott’s birthday. I had only seen her in person a handful of times.

One fall morning, I woke up to a message from Katie saying Scott was leaving her for another woman. My heart sank. Though Scott and I weren’t especially close, I reached out to him and encouraged him to fight for his marriage. He had already made up his mind.

For a short time, I tried to encourage both of them toward counseling, and I was hopeful when they seemed to be making progress. But within a week, that hope faded.

Eventually, Katie and I met to talk through everything. I’d like to say I wasn’t attracted to her, but that wouldn’t be honest. She wasn’t what I would have described as “my type,” and we were very different, but we shared something significant—two failed marriages and a desire to understand what went wrong.

She described her previous marriage as emotionally abusive and said her husband had been a controlling narcissist. From the outside, he had always seemed pleasant and well-put-together to me, which made it difficult to reconcile the two perspectives. I had no way of fully knowing what had happened behind closed doors, but I listened to her and tried to be supportive.

We remained friends at first, but eventually that friendship led to a kiss. I won’t pretend it didn’t affect me. It did.

Neither of us had grown up with a healthy picture of marriage. Katie witnessed her parents struggle through a painful relationship. My own parents’ marriage wasn’t much better. While my mom found Christ later in life, my dad never treated her the way she deserved. Neither of us truly knew what God’s design for marriage looked like.

Our conversations became deeper and more intentional. We talked often about God and about doing things the right way. I asked her to lunch. She agreed, but made it clear: “This is not a date.”

Around that time, we found a Christian book called The Naked Marriage—a guide to intimacy, vulnerability, and trust. It described the kind of relationship neither of us had experienced. We began reading it together.

Soon after, I felt convicted to pray with her. I had never done that with a woman before, and honestly, I didn’t want to start. But I felt God prompting me. I asked her if we could pray together. She said yes.

I don’t remember what I prayed—only that I was nervous and awkward. I ended with “Amen,” and she echoed it.

From that moment forward, prayer became part of our relationship. At first, I led. Later, I encouraged her to pray too. She was hesitant at first, but eventually she did—and beautifully. We began alternating, praying over everything: church, family, friends, and especially our children. There were moments I would start to say “Amen,” and she would gently interrupt with, “Not amen yet,” adding what was still on her heart.

It was powerful. Deeply intimate. I believe praying together is one of the most powerful things a couple can do.

We began visiting churches and eventually settled at Capitol City Church in Des Moines. We felt God moving in our relationship. She once said it was the best relationship she had ever been in.

Yet even after we married, she never fully stepped into the vulnerability we had talked about. There were walls—deep ones—that never came down.

I believed God had given us insight into His design for marriage for a reason. I thought perhaps there was even ministry in our future. Over five years, I read more than 30 Christian books on marriage and on how to better love and serve a wife. Katie read several alongside me. I know I failed in many ways, but I consistently tried to put her first—sometimes even before God, which I now recognize was misplaced.

I often asked her what I could do to be a better husband. She rarely had an answer. It was a difficult question to ask because I truly intended to follow through on whatever she said.

She once told our pastor and his wife that she believed God created our relationship and that I was “the one”—but she wasn’t sure she could ever fully trust again after her previous marriage.

Only a few months later, she filed for divorce.

In counseling, she admitted I had tried to continue reading Scripture with her, though she often fell asleep. She told the counselor she had no doubt that I loved her completely and that I had kept my promises.

But she still left.

I pleaded for more counseling. She declined.

In the aftermath, there were accusations and misunderstandings that were deeply painful. It has been difficult watching the narrative shift away from what I know to be true.

Not long after, she entered another relationship.

We used to say, “We either win together or lose together.”

In the end, we lost together.