A Love That Never Fails
By Elaine Creasman

HOW COULD YOU? I thought for the thousandth time in recent days. Hiding my panic beneath anger, I glared at my husband, Steve, who was driving.

It was only one time,” he had insisted. Still his unfaithfulness — his adultery! — crushed me.

All my dreams for our marriage lay crumbled. Steve was to be the person who could love me perfectly — the way I had wanted my parents to love me. Now his “I love you’s” seemed like lies.

“What are you thinking about?” Steve asked. He reached for my hand. I ignored him for many miles and finally spoke.

I shouldn’t be here,” I said. “There’s no hope for us."

Steve thought a moment, then asked, “What about Jesus? You talk about Him a lot. Can’t He save this marriage?”

Suddenly I thought of Norma. It was three years earlier, and we sat in my dorm room at nursing school. I poured out my problems to her and blew the smoke from my cigarette into the window fan, so I wouldn’t get caught. She, too, asked, “What about Jesus?”

“I already know Jesus,” I said. “I go to church every week.”

“Then why are you turning to cigarettes, alcohol, and weekends with Steve rather than to Him?” she said tenderly.

“I’m trying hard to live the Christian life,” I insisted. Then Norma brought out her Bible. (It wasn’t the first time) As I lit another cigarette, she read verses like these:

“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith…it is the gift of God — not by works, so that no one can boast (Ephesians 2:8-9).

“God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). “For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 6:23).

I could almost hear her gentle voice reading those verses again. Back then, they were words. Now, packages of hope.

TURN TO JESUS, ELAINE. REALLY TURN TO HIM, I could imagine Norma saying again. I had turned to Steve rather than Jesus to be my savior. I wanted Steve to heal the hurts of my childhood. Instead he added to them. My heart longed for a love that would not fail me. Could Jesus be the key to that love?

So on that rainy day, somewhere on I-75 on our way from Illinois to Florida, minutes after Steve asked me, “What about Jesus?” I opened my heart to Him. I gave Him the mess I’d made trying to fix my life. I gave Him all my sins and faults, and I asked that He alone be my Savior. I said “yes” to Him and at the same time “yes” to Steve’s second question. It wasn’t something I felt; it was something I knew. “Yes, He can save this marriage.” I took Steve’s hand.

When we got to Florida, I told Steve of my decision and made it public, “walking the aisle” at my in-laws’ church. I asked Steve to come to church with me, but he refused. He said he’d “accepted Christ” at 13, but once again he insisted he was finished with organized religion. I remembered hearing of negative experiences in the church he’d attended.