When Niel's affair came to light at the end of last year, I fell apart. There are gaps in my memory of that week---parts I honestly can't even remember. What I do remember is this: I punched my husband. I cried uncontrollably. I spent hours unable to breathe.

I remember knowing that, in spite of my world crashing around me, I wanted to work through this. I didn't know how, but I wanted to forgive Niel. I wanted restoration in our marriage.

So I came to the States to see a counselor, and asked Niel to follow a month later to begin joint counseling. He came, but his heart didn't seem to be in it. He was distant, unapologetic, and disengaged from the process. It seemed evident that his mind was already made up. So I knew before he told me. But on that bitter cold day in March when he finally put words to what his actions had been saying all along---that he was leaving me---I fell apart yet again.

A layer of pain buried 9 years deep rushed to the surface. This wasn't my husband's first infidelity.

Twice I had chosen, by God's grace, to forgive. To ask God to restore and reconcile. Twice. And yet Niel still made the choice to leave.

His "till death do us part" really meant "till someone else comes along".

His decision left me completely broken. I've since struggled with feeling unlovable and undesirable. Not enough. Not worth fighting for. Easily discarded. More replaceable than keepable.

While cognitively I know those are lies, when someone leaves me after making a vow that they won't, it's really hard to believe that abandonment isn't always inevitable.

I hate that it's easier for me to believe the lies of man than the truth of God.

God tells me that I'm enough, lovable, worthy... just as I am.

And I want to believe Him above all else.