Katie S. 28

I’ve been thinking a lot about marriage and purity lately, and I believe God is in the process of healing my heart from some old wounds that, until recently, I have tried to keep hidden. I’ve made no great secret of the fact that I was not a virgin when I got married.  But what I have kept secret, maybe even from myself, is what I long believed that fact said about my relationship with God.

I grew up hearing the gospel.  At the age of four I prayed a prayer with my mother, asking Jesus to come into my heart and be with me forever.  Then when I was thirteen, I prayed that prayer again.  This time with a greater understanding of my need for a savior and a desire to know Him.  After that point I began to feel the presence of the Holy Spirit in my life.  In the midst of my teenage angst and confusion, some part of me knew that I had an advocate, a redeemer and a friend in Jesus.

I didn’t really date in high school.  Boys scared and confused me, and I wrestled with a complex mix of idealism and insecurity.  I was enthralled with the epic romances of literature, like Arthur and Guinevere, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet.  The awkward reality of teenage relationships seemed appalling by comparison.

But when I went away to college, something changed in me.  I had chosen a school based on where the greatest number of my friends were going, as opposed to the place that felt right for me. I made the choice out of a fear of being lonely, which ironically, is exactly how I ended up feeling even as I was surrounded by familiar faces.

Part way through my first semester I met a boy.  I think I knew from the get go that he wasn’t the right boy, but it felt good to be pursued.  I rationalized the relationship by saying that I wasn’t looking for forever yet. It didn’t take very long for things to get physical, and as they did I began to distance myself more and more from those friends who I knew would hold me accountable.  By the end of my freshman year I had given away the piece of myself that should have belonged to my husband alone.  He never even pretended that he loved me, and in my heart of hearts, I never believed that he should.

I returned home for summer break devastated by what I had done.  I remember feeling like I had changed into another person.  That in a single act I had undermined everything that I was, and worse yet, everything that God had been in me.  I asked God to forgive me, but I suspected that I had committed an unforgivable sin and that any relationship I might have with God going forward would be somehow lessened, marred by my great disappointment.

Looking back, I still can’t quite figure out where I got this idea. I’ve shared the loving and gracious role that my earthly father played in this story here before.  My parents were both saved as adults, and they were always very honest with me about their respective testimonies.  I grew up knowing that I would not lose my salvation (or my parents’ love) because of sin in my life.  And although there were certainly individuals in my Christian high school who had implied that premarital sex and substance abuse were somehow bigger sins than say, pride or materialism, there were also a great many individuals who spoke honestly about their own struggles and the faithfulness of Jesus in the midst of their sin.

I suppose the only one who can truly be blamed for my misconceptions during that season is the enemy of my heart.  How much must the devil have wanted me to believe that my sins could somehow undo the active power of God’s grace in my life? How delicious it must have been to see me doubt the one thing that rendered him completely powerless over me. But here is the thing.  My soul had already been bought and paid for.  So no matter how far I believed I had fallen, no matter how fast I tried to run from the presence of my savior, the devil could not win. Let me say that again – HE. COULD. NOT. WIN.

My flesh was weak, but my God was mighty to save. I was and am a terrible sinner, but I was and am clothed in righteousness because Jesus Christ died for me.

So here is the part of the story that I believe God is addressing with me right now. I have long struggled with feelings of shame and regret over the fact that purity always seemed just out of my reach from that point forward.  Although my heart did begin to turn back toward God in the years leading up to my marriage, I struggled with the issue of abstinence right up until the day I walked down the aisle. As a dating couple, Chris and I were forever setting and breaking rules for ourselves.  And once we got engaged, I feared that God would not honor our union because we could not honor the promises we had made before him. I was first overwhelmed with feelings of unworthiness when things between us were good, and then convinced that we were simply reaping what we had sown when things were bad.

But the beauty of belonging to the Lord is this – I didn’t have to try to change the past or walk in constant shame in order to be in right relationship with God or my husband.  All I had to do was trust that mine is a God who forgives and makes all things new. He is in the process of gently revealing the huge chasm that existed between the truth and my perception during that time.  My struggles with that particular sin weren’t evidence that I was not truly saved.  They were evidence that I was (and always will be) truly in need of the savior who was already mine.

No white dress that I or any other bride has ever worn could be as brilliant as the robes of righteousness that he gives to repentant sinners. I am the pure spotless bride that I always wanted to be.  Not because I did anything good or right, but because the passionate lover of my soul fought and died for me.  Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy have nothing on a romance like that!

This entry was posted on Friday, February 5th, 2010 at 8:22 pm and is filed under Things I'm Learning. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.