“One warm Thursday evening in the beginning of June, after a decade of marriage, I sat at my kitchen table and listened as a female relative — a child — told me my Christian husband had been sexually abusing her for at least three years. I remember feeling numb. And very calm.
By the next morning the numbness was in competition with a variety of intense and constantly shifting emotions: terror, violent grief, confusion, anxiety, rage.
Remarkably, my husband admitted to the abuse. Of course he only acknowledged to as much as the child could bring herself, with great difficulty, to describe.
This was the man I had laughed with, cuddled with, cried with, and had daughters with. I had known him since we were teenagers. I wondered: was my husband evil? Or was he sick? Could he be healed? And, even if he were to be healed, would I ever be able to trust him again (full post linked above)?”