When my husband told me he had a camping trip with the church group, I didn’t hesitate to help him pack. I trusted him more than anyone. But when I discovered the truth behind his “trip,” I quickly put him in his place!
I always thought I hit the jackpot when I married Thomas. People at church called him “a godly man.” He led the Wednesday night Bible study, taught our children how to say grace, and volunteered every summer to run the youth camp’s obstacle course. I believed he was perfect, until that fateful day.
A man at a church service | Source: Pexels
See, my husband wasn’t just admired at church and in our community, he was revered! He was one of those “model Christian men” who wore a modest wooden cross around his neck. Said it reminded him to be a humble servant.
Even when he had strep throat and could barely talk, or had the flu, he still showed up for Sunday service—something he never missed—and sang with the choir like it was his final performance! He even volunteered for youth ministry. Our pastor once said he’s “a rock for young fathers.”
A man reading the Bible | Source: Pexels
I fell in love with that dedication. Or maybe I fell in love with the illusion.
So, when he told me he was going on a weekend camping retreat with the men’s group, I didn’t blink. The trip had supposedly been arranged by the church elders, a time for reflection, prayer, and brotherhood.
“It’s important for me to get right with God,” he said, packing his duffel bag while I folded our children’s laundry nearby. “To strengthen my faith, reflect on fatherhood, responsibility, and how to be a better husband.”
He kissed my forehead like he always did. I smiled, genuinely, and helped him pack.
