If I'm being honest, I was furious.
The situation felt profoundly unfair—how could she not grasp what seemed glaringly obvious to me?
Despite my best efforts, all my attempts at reasoning with my wife felt pointless.
Each time I tried to articulate my perspective only seemed to deepen the chasm between us.
And by then, we had helplessly tried (and failed) to reconnect with each other for what felt like an eternity.
Until finally, thank God, we agreed to a temporary ceasefire and chose to go our separate ways.
I walked away with my heart pounding in my chest.
The whole conflict was still swirling like a storm in my head.
Why, God? Why can't she see?
I paused to gather my thoughts.
I took a deep breath and searched for God’s presence somewhere deep in my soul.
It took some time.
Releasing wasn’t easy. I was grasping hard at my well articulated arguments and her obvious unfairness toward me.
I kept pouting in my heart hoping for God to intervene.
I waited for her to come back with an apology, sharing how wrong she was, and more importantly, how from the beginning I had been right.
Until I finally had to let go.
And with a deep breath, I released it all to him.
“Come and help me, Lord.
Come and shine your light.
Come and make this right…”
And right there, with my heart finally resting in his presence, Jesus offered a simple and loving whisper—an echo of the wisdom that my friend and mentor, General Mark Cochran, had deposited in my heart years before:
““Your role as a husband is not to prove that you are right. It is to restore union.””
To restore union…
Because it is for union that God brought us together in marriage:
““That is why a man leaves his father and mother and is united to his wife…””
And it is this union that was lost that tragic day when Adam fell.
When shame entered his heart.
When instead of owning his part, and moving toward God and toward Eve, he chose to hide.
“But the Lord God called to the man, “Where are you?”
He answered, “I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid.””
And in his hiding, he chose to blame.
“And he said, “Who told you that you were naked? “Have you eaten from the tree that I commanded you not to eat from?”
The man said, “The woman you put here with me—she gave me some fruit from the tree, and I ate it.””
Right there, in his shame, just like I was now doing, Adam tried to prove that it was not him but Eve to blame.
That even God was to blame, for it was him who gave the woman to him.
But could you imagine what could have happened if Adam had fully owned his part?
If instead of hiding he had ran straight to God and shared all that had unfolded that day?
If he had asked him for forgiveness, and in love, had interceded for his wife before him?
As I sat in God’s presence on that day, I knew I could not answer for Adam, but I would have to answer for myself.
Because right there, in the midst of my storm, God was asking those same questions of me.
Because in that very situation, although I didn’t like it, there was a clear choice I had to make.
To continue hiding, and in my shame blaming.
Or to stand up and run to God.
And go back to my wife and own my part.
To repent and ask to be forgiven.
And then to listen, really listen, and understand her heart.
I am grateful that this time I made the right choice.
That I was willing to let go of the need to be right, and instead moved toward her and restore our union at the level of the heart.
And as a result I was able to witness how from that newly found place, God would lead us into deeper intimacy.
And into solving in minutes, whatever it is that had started that storm, which at that point we had recognized as largely trivial to both of us.
Since then I pray to God that I may always remember:
“My role as husband is not to prove that I am right. It is to restore union.”
I pray that you remember that too.
Much love,
—
Pablo