Deception Ebook EPUB 3-17-2014 (16 page)

Chapter 63

Summer 2005

A
re you okay?” Peter asked when he noticed how quiet I was. I was normally talkative around my family.

I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s nothing new,” I said.

“Friends?” Peter guessed.

I nodded, fighting back my tears.

“Come here,” Peter said, his arms outstretched, receiving me as I fell into his arms. “I’m so sorry you’re still hurting,” Peter said, trying to comfort me. “Did something happen at church this morning?”

“Not really. I just don’t understand why. There must be something about me. What’s wrong with me?” This was not the first time we’d talked about this subject. I blurted out that I had seen a few ladies discussing plans to get together.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Peter said.

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re biased. If there’s nothing wrong with me, then how come I don’t have friends?”

“I don’t know. I wish I had answers.”

Having friends was a prayer I had petitioned for so long. I’d recognized the consequences of my sin. All of this had happened because of
him
. But it had been more than fifteen years. Why was I still suffering?

I knew I was likable. I had to be. I had close friends all through my years at MSD. But confidence is a funny thing – after Gallaudet, I had begun to wonder. Perhaps, there was something wrong with me. Perhaps, something about me was a turn-off. Perhaps, I was boring. Perhaps…

Why had God not answered my prayers? From the day I’d met Peter, he had been my besterest friend and my soul mate. But there were days I’d wished for a close female friend.

I had tearfully asked Bridgetta the same thing when we talked one summer. She had moved to California, but when she visited her family, she would find time in her busy schedule to see me. Our time together every year was precious, although short.

“There is nothing wrong with you,” Bridgetta had said.

In the early years of my marriage, our children had been the focus of my life. Being a mother was a joy, and I loved being around my children. Home was where my heart was, and I didn’t believe in overscheduling our children with extracurricular activities. Had I missed out on opportunities to develop friendships as a result? Maybe so.

As the years had progressed, there were social gatherings I’d often declined. When it came to hosting parties, ladies wanted the freebies they got for being the hostess. I didn’t need the stuff they were selling, and I didn’t want to spend money just for the sake of getting together. Excuses on my part? Maybe so.

As I became pastor’s wife, I suppose I had friends in church. But unfortunately they contacted me only when they needed something – my help, opinion, or advice. Given my role, I also knew too much – struggles our members faced, sins they committed, and issues the church faced. I was careful never to reveal private information.

I’d had moments of hope, though. Through the years – graduate school, work, and church – several ladies had crossed my path. We would get together a few times, but a friendship would not blossom. Once, I had tearfully opened up to a pastor’s wife who was the mother of someone I knew.

“It’s hard,” I had said. “If I’d befriended someone in our congregation, it would have shown favoritism. It would be impossible to be close to certain ladies without hurting someone else’s feelings.” This pastor’s wife understood my dilemma. For this reason, she had developed her circle of friends
outside
her church family. She had encouraged me to talk to her daughter, but I declined. I didn’t want her to feel sorry and befriend me out of pity. I wanted someone to like me for who I was and who had the desire to get to know me better.

All of this had once again reminded me of
him
. If not for what had happened, I believe I would have had friends outside church. But I recognized that I couldn’t use my past as an excuse, not any longer. I’d had my share of opportunities, but I had always found myself being on guard – wanting to get close, but at the same time, keeping myself at a distance. I recognized that I’m not an easy person to get to know. I had always been a private person, yet I had kept close friends. What was different now?

Perhaps this is one of the reasons I love my women’s Bible study group. Week after week, I am with “friends” for an hour and a half. Over the years I have shared a little about myself, yet the ladies never probed. Was it because they were not interested? Or was it because of how they viewed me – the pastor’s wife?

I am grateful for so much in my life, and I can honestly say that I’m content. But once in a while, I’m reminded of what I lack. And it hurts.

God answers prayers in three ways: yes, no, or later.

Chapter 64

Spring 2006

I
t is difficult for me to imagine myself engaging in a relationship with a married man. How could I have allowed it to happen? I had known it was wrong from the very beginning – so why did I allow it to continue for two and a half years?

As a pastor’s wife, people have often come to me for advice and confided in me their secrets and struggles. It was nothing new to me. I had grown up helping Mom and Dad. I grew up listening. I grew up with secrets and was good at keeping them.

In one instance, a woman I’ll call Irene, came to me one day after our church service.

“Do you have a few minutes?” she asked.

“Sure,” I said. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. You know, I’ve been through a lot.” She was a single mother.

I nodded, and asked about one of her children, specifically. This child was struggling academically, and I wanted to know how she was doing.

“Pretty good. Change in schools helped. So far, doing well. Grades are improving. She seems happier.”

“That’s good to know. You wanted to talk to me about something in particular?”

“Yes. I’ve been seeing someone and I need your advice,” she said. Then, before she explained further, she added: “Just between the two of us, okay? No one knows yet since he’s still married.”

“He’s married?” I looked at her dumbfounded. What was she thinking?

“He plans to leave her and is in the process of getting a divorce,” she explained.

“But he’s still married. He needs to work on his marriage. You know, your relationship is adulterous, and you need to get out of it,” I said.

“I know some Christians might think it is wrong, but don’t you see? I’ve never been this happy before. God has answered my prayers. I’ve been praying for a husband. My children need a father as well.” She proceeded to tell me how their paths had crossed. “It is obviously God’s plan.”

I had once thought that God worked like that as well, or so I wanted to believe. Actually, I knew from the very beginning that my affair was very wrong. But after a while, I had convinced myself that, perhaps, it was God’s plan for me to be with
him
.

He had said that he wished he hadn’t married his wife.

“But you did. So, you must have loved her,” I had said.

“If I had known what being in love feels like, I wouldn’t have,” he’d said. “I would have waited.”

“Waited for me? For so long?” It was difficult for me to believe that. “When I was born, you were already out of college and working. I don’t think you would have waited.”

“My marriage was obviously a mistake. I know now for sure that I was never in love. I thought I was, but I was wrong. It’s you I’m in love with!” he’d said.

It’s a hard thing for me to fathom now, but I had started to believe that perhaps he was right. God had
not
intended for him to marry his wife. After all, everyone makes mistakes, I reasoned. What if it really was God’s plan for us to be together? God wants the best for us, doesn’t He?

It was so easy to confuse the truth when my emotions got in the way. And now I listened as Irene was rationalizing her emotions, despite knowing the truth. I looked at her and wished I could share my story. But I couldn’t. I didn’t want his name exposed, or my name either, I suppose. Yet, I felt I was cheating her somehow by not sharing.

If she knew that I, too, was once deceived by Satan’s lies, then perhaps, she would be more willing to listen to what I had to say. After all, I’d been there. But, instead, all I could offer was God’s Word; not that I didn’t trust that His Word could make an impact.

The advice she was seeking from me was whether or not they should live together. “You don’t understand,” she said when I told her it wasn’t a good idea. Despite my advice, she followed her heart, and in the end, their relationship didn’t work out.

There’s great danger in following our hearts and not testing what we believe. As God said through Isaiah 55:8-9: For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways…

God’s commands are for our protection. We create rules for our children for the same reason – we want to protect them, lead them on the right path, and bless them with good things that come as result of obedience.

God ultimately knows what is best for us, and if we obey His commands, that’s what we get, His best.

Chapter 65

Summer 2006

Y
ou must have wanted it to happen. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have said anything,” Peter said gently during one of our many conversations about the affair.

I couldn’t believe he would have thought such a thing. “I don’t think so,” I said. “You make it sound as if I wanted to engage in an affair.”

“No. But you could have kept it to yourself,” Peter said. “Many students have fantasized about teachers, yet they don’t act on it.”

“I suppose I could have remained silent,” I said. “I shared with
him
because I felt guilty. I also think I wanted to be disciplined.”

“Disciplined?”

I had craved discipline. When I saw my friends being disciplined, I envied them. It showed that their parents cared about them. It also demonstrated their parents’ love. I’m not talking about corporal punishment. I’d had my share of it while growing up. Mom would whip our hands or butts with a belt. But as we got older, Mom would send us to our rooms instead.

What I needed, though, was verbal discipline – parents sitting down with me to explain why this or that wasn’t a good idea, wasn’t allowed, or couldn’t be done. As odd as it may seem, I yearned to be scolded and told what to do. During my high school years, whenever I asked Mom and Dad for their opinions, their typical response was: “It’s up to you.” When I asked if I could do this or that, they responded with: “If you want to.”

“With him,” I told Peter, “he was like a father to me. I had relied on his guidance and insight when dealing with my feelings. I had shared with him my fantasy because I knew it was wrong. Perhaps I’d hoped he would’ve taken the time to sit down and tell me how disappointed he was with me. That was something I’d never experienced growing up.”

“That makes sense.”

“It happened more than fifteen years ago. I wish I’d kept a copy of my confession note,” I said. “I don’t remember exactly what I wrote or what went through my mind at the time.”

I think my deep desire for guidance and discipline in my life explains why it had been so easy for me to accept God’s teaching. God had fulfilled the fatherly role I so desperately needed. He had loved me for who I was; He created me after all. He’d forgiven my wrongdoings. He had given me a second chance. He’d guided me through His teachings – the blueprint for my life. And He’d also affirmed my worth, I was someone special.

Chapter 66

September 2008

I
n all the years I’ve been married, I’d never seen
him
outside MSD or MSD-related functions, but I bumped into his wife once at Sam’s Club. I was in the frozen food section when I pushed my cart, turning left at the end of an aisle, and she was in the next aisle, turning right. For a second, I had wondered if he was with her – a quick but casual glance around told me he wasn’t. We chatted for several minutes. When we departed, I told her to tell him I said hello.

During the first several years of my marriage, when Peter and I went out to the mall, a restaurant, or any public place, I would look out for him. Not because I wanted to see him, but because I didn’t want to be caught unaware should I bump into him. So, when we did run into each other one morning, I was caught off-guard. It’d been so long since I’d last seen him. We hugged, as Deaf people always do when greeting each other. Neither of us had much time to spare, so we managed to catch up with each other in just a few minutes: health, family, job.

Memories of him, and us, flooded my mind as they did every time I saw him. Certain scenes from our past would replay in my mind and wouldn’t go away for weeks at a time. I had wanted to see how he was really doing. Was he moving on with his life? Finding him was not too difficult, thanks to Google. He had shared enough information during our visit for me to look in the right places. I surfed the Internet for the organization where he volunteered. From their staff directory, I was able to figure out what his email address might be if he had been given one.

I asked Peter how he would feel if I contacted him. Although a bit hesitant, he said that he trusted my judgment. So, I clicked the Send button:

Good morning.

I’m not sure if I have the correct e-mail address; hopefully this goes through to you.

It was a nice surprise seeing you last week; you looked good. I left feeling a bit frustrated because I wanted to see how you’ve been doing. Would it be possible for us to meet to catch up? (I have talked this over with Peter and have his permission to contact you).

If, for whatever reasons, you feel uncomfortable with the idea, please say so. I’ll understand. If you are okay with the idea, when would be a good day/time for you?

Deb

* * *

Hi Deb,

It was great seeing you also. I left feeling the same way, but with so many people around it makes it difficult to catch up. You looked very good also. Ummm, I am not sure what your schedule is with home schooling and all. The first available day I have is 9
th
. We could meet for lunch somewhere. As I told you, I do some volunteer work and I could take an extended lunch break. If that is a problem let me know and we can figure something else out. Please give my best to Peter. Looking forward to meeting you.

* * *

Great. I’m glad my e-mail went through. Unfortunately, 9
th
isn’t good for me. Peter is off on Mondays, so I can get away easiest that day. So meet on a Monday, perhaps? Hope you are having a good day!

Deb

After several emails back and forth, we agreed on a date. I asked if he would feel comfortable meeting in Peter’s office at the church. I figured there wouldn’t be too many people around.

That is fine, not a problem. Where is his office?

* * *

Friday is all set. We’ll meet in Peter’s office. Meet at 8:30 a.m. or 9:00 a.m.? Will your getting away on Friday create problems with your wife? Are you going to tell her we’ll meet? Just wondering.

Deb

* * *

Deb,

Friday is fine. 8:30 a.m. would be great. My wife does not know. I did tell her that I bumped into you and others at the park last week.

* * *

I see. If anything changes, you know where to reach me. Have a good week.