Read Online Rich in Love: When God Rescues Messy People by Irene Garcia, Lissa Halls Johnson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Irene Garcia, Lissa Halls Johnson
Tags: Adoption
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by little, God also revealed his truths to me through Mary. She faithfully met with me week after week, gently showing me my faults. She taught me that as long as I focused on Domingo’s sin, I looked pretty good. It was not until I compared myself to Christ that I could see how filthy I really was.
As a Catholic, I hadn’t really opened my Bible much. But John MacArthur’s teaching inspired me to get mine out and look into it more deeply. As I did, it was clear that God wanted Christians to be married to Christians. And since I was now a Christian, I believed God wanted me to be with a Christian husband. So, in my naive thinking, I believed God was going to give me a new husband. I just had to keep praying for him—whoever he might be. I dreamed of having a family who went to church together like the families I saw sitting together in the Catholic church when I was a child.
By this time it was no secret how I felt about my husband. I knew he wasn’t faithful. My heart ached with this knowledge every time he was away. In my stupidity and ignorance, I prayed continually, “God, take this man. Let him drive over the cliff and die on the way home. And give me a Christian husband.” My foolish prayers are very hard for me to admit. How dare I pray God would take my husband’s life!
Boy, do I thank God for the Holy Spirit, who is the mediator of our prayers, perfecting them. Romans 8:26–27 says, “And the Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness. For example, we don’t know what God wants us to pray for. But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in words. And the Father who knows all hearts knows what the Spirit is saying, for the Spirit pleads for us believers in harmony with God’s own will.”
These verses tell me that there are times we might not know how to pray, but the Spirit perfects our prayers and aligns them with God’s will. So while I prayed fervently for my unbelieving husband’s death, I believe the Holy Spirit changed my words so God heard, “Please, Lord, save my husband and make him a new man in Christ.”
One day Domingo didn’t come home. No one knew where he was. I knew one of three things had happened: he was with another woman, he’d gone off a canyon cliff because he had been drinking, or he’d gotten a DUI. He’d already had one DUI, and I told him if he ever got a second, our marriage was over.
When Domingo called to tell me he’d been picked up on a DUI on the freeway off-ramp close to our house, I was so humiliated and so done. All I could think was, Why is he still alive? Then he told me he was going to be in jail for a few days.
I didn’t care. I was filing for divorce. I thought God wanted me to be free of this awful man who was drunk and angry much of the time. While he went to jail, I went on with my life and my plans for divorce, never visiting him in jail or even caring that he was there.
Domingo’s story in his own words
I could see our house from where the cops pulled me over—only one block away. After failing the sobriety test, I appealed to the police to let me leave the truck there and walk home. After all, I was so close. “Does it really matter?” I asked. “Look, see that house? I live there. You can impound my car, whatever you want, but please just let me walk home.”
“No, Mr. Garcia,” the cop said. “This isn’t your first DUI. We’re taking you in.”
I can’t believe it. It’s just my rotten luck that I get pulled over a block from my house ,I thought as they handcuffed me, adding to my humiliation, then put me in the backseat of the police car.
I didn’t want to call Irene.
We had battled so long over my drinking, and as a result, our marriage had turned volatile. I knew Irene no longer wanted to live this way. I didn’t want to tell her about the DUI—I knew it would be the last straw and calling her would mean the end of our relationship. She had already been thinking about a divorce. But I had to
As a Catholic, I hadn’t really opened my Bible much. But John MacArthur’s teaching inspired me to get mine out and look into it more deeply. As I did, it was clear that God wanted Christians to be married to Christians. And since I was now a Christian, I believed God wanted me to be with a Christian husband. So, in my naive thinking, I believed God was going to give me a new husband. I just had to keep praying for him—whoever he might be. I dreamed of having a family who went to church together like the families I saw sitting together in the Catholic church when I was a child.
By this time it was no secret how I felt about my husband. I knew he wasn’t faithful. My heart ached with this knowledge every time he was away. In my stupidity and ignorance, I prayed continually, “God, take this man. Let him drive over the cliff and die on the way home. And give me a Christian husband.” My foolish prayers are very hard for me to admit. How dare I pray God would take my husband’s life!
Boy, do I thank God for the Holy Spirit, who is the mediator of our prayers, perfecting them. Romans 8:26–27 says, “And the Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness. For example, we don’t know what God wants us to pray for. But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in words. And the Father who knows all hearts knows what the Spirit is saying, for the Spirit pleads for us believers in harmony with God’s own will.”
These verses tell me that there are times we might not know how to pray, but the Spirit perfects our prayers and aligns them with God’s will. So while I prayed fervently for my unbelieving husband’s death, I believe the Holy Spirit changed my words so God heard, “Please, Lord, save my husband and make him a new man in Christ.”
One day Domingo didn’t come home. No one knew where he was. I knew one of three things had happened: he was with another woman, he’d gone off a canyon cliff because he had been drinking, or he’d gotten a DUI. He’d already had one DUI, and I told him if he ever got a second, our marriage was over.
When Domingo called to tell me he’d been picked up on a DUI on the freeway off-ramp close to our house, I was so humiliated and so done. All I could think was, Why is he still alive? Then he told me he was going to be in jail for a few days.
I didn’t care. I was filing for divorce. I thought God wanted me to be free of this awful man who was drunk and angry much of the time. While he went to jail, I went on with my life and my plans for divorce, never visiting him in jail or even caring that he was there.
Domingo’s story in his own words
I could see our house from where the cops pulled me over—only one block away. After failing the sobriety test, I appealed to the police to let me leave the truck there and walk home. After all, I was so close. “Does it really matter?” I asked. “Look, see that house? I live there. You can impound my car, whatever you want, but please just let me walk home.”
“No, Mr. Garcia,” the cop said. “This isn’t your first DUI. We’re taking you in.”
I can’t believe it. It’s just my rotten luck that I get pulled over a block from my house ,I thought as they handcuffed me, adding to my humiliation, then put me in the backseat of the police car.
I didn’t want to call Irene.
We had battled so long over my drinking, and as a result, our marriage had turned volatile. I knew Irene no longer wanted to live this way. I didn’t want to tell her about the DUI—I knew it would be the last straw and calling her would mean the end of our relationship. She had already been thinking about a divorce. But I had to
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