What if I ask Ron for mercy and he denies me? What if he can't forgive me?

I looked over at my sweet, wounded husband and saw the wide-eyed face of a frightened twelve-year-old boy. I spoke quickly so that I wouldn't lose the safety of the moment. "Ron, I've betrayed you mentally, spiritually, and physically. I've lied to you and deceived you. I have no defense, no excuses. I've sinned against God and you. Can you -- will you please forgive me?"

He leaned forward, never letting go of my eyes. The little boy was gone as my strong and confidant husband took my hands in his and said, "Nancy, we have both done and said terrible things to each other. Our marriage was a mess -- and a lot of it was my fault. But I take a stand today to change all that. You have betrayed me, but I choose to forgive you."

We both began to cry and our tears mixed with the river of divine love that flowed through the room. Our hearts were knit together as we began again -- with a solid marriage foundation.

However, my personal foundation was still unstable. My lies had been so tangled with truth that I wasn't sure which was which. I slowly began to untie the knots of my life. I was relieved to be done with deceit, but because its shadows, exaggerations, and half-truths had been my companions for months, the light of the whole truth seemed harsh -- like walking out into full sunlight after watching an afternoon matinee in a dark theater. It took some time for my heart to adjust.

I was full of self-doubt and couldn't believe how easily I'd been swept away by my feelings. I began to understand Proverbs 4:23: "Above all else, guard your heart, for it affects everything you do" (nlt). I had been unguarded. I didn't plunge into sin -- I drifted in, like floating on an air mattress and falling asleep only to wake up a half mile from the beach. I had to swim with all my strength to pull my heart back to shore

Jesus' words to the woman who was caught in adultery gave me comfort and direction: "Neither do I condemn you; go and sin no more," (John 8:11 nkjv). Jesus' command was simple -- but its execution was hard. I struggled.

Ron forgave me -- miraculously. He let go of the pain and moved into freedom. I, however, got stuck in the sorrow of regret. Receiving and believing in my forgiveness was tedious, treacherous. One step forward; two steps back. The memories kept haunting me, surprising me -- triggered by the scent of a stranger's cologne or the melody of a song. The shame of past pleasures followed me.

One day, several months after our reconciliation, I asked Ron, "Do you still think about it?"

"No. Hardly ever. You have never given me cause to worry about it happening again. You always call when you're going to be late or have a change in your plans. You don't flirt with other men the way you used to. You really have changed, making it easy for me to trust you again."