During the first few years that we were married we were trying to have a baby. This was a particularly emotional and trying time for us both. Each month, when the test came back negative, there was disappointment, depression, and anger from Debra. Because I do not display my emotions on my sleeve, I was often accused of being heartless, uncaring, and faithless, all while I was hurting just as deeply as well. Debra would say it was harder on her because she was a woman, and because I am not emotional like her. But that simply wasn’t true in my opinion
Form the earliest time I can recall, I have always believed that I was meant to be a father. There is nothing I wanted more in life than to be a good father. Even as an early teen, and a young man, I expected one day to marry and be a father. I have tried to be the best father I am capable of being to all the youth I have taken in, believing as the bible says that as I am faithful with what is another man’s (the many kids I’ve raised”) that He would, at the right time, give me what is my own. My emotions were every bit as deep as hers, yet I was constantly punished for not making a show of them.
Whenever someone in the church would announce a pregnancy Debra would actually become angry. Sometimes even treating them rudely. This also caused us some contention. At times she would even suggest they were announcing their pregnancies in front of the church as a way to mock her. Each month, she would always blame me for the lack of fertility. She insisted that I did not have enough faith, I did not want it badly enough, I was not having sex often enough, there was something wrong with my organs, etc. etc. This went on for years, and in a most hurtful and negative way. I can with all honest say that I never retaliated, and I never at any time pointed blame at her.
Finally, we went to see a specialist who determined that her fallopian tubes were irreparably blocked. When we learned this she was crushed. She was broken and weeping, and in that moment, I treated her with most gracious kindness. I took her hand and lovingly assured her, that even if I had known this in advance, I would still have married her. I spoke the words she most needed to hear in that moment with love and kindness. In no way did I turn any of the venom that she had spewed on me for years back at her.
After that, we attempted in-vitro fertilization. We spent thousands of dollars and endured the long process of vitamins, supplements and injections to prepare her body to produce the eggs. We then went in for the procedure and the eggs were harvested and placed in a laboratory tray with the semen. A few days later we were told that only one of the eggs had been successfully fertilized and become a living embryo. On that Friday we went back to have this precious embryo (a living baby) implanted in her uterus.
The embryo was implanted in her that Friday afternoon. We were given very clear instructions. The embryo must attach itself to the uterus wall over the next couple of days, and if not, it would die. She was to go home and be very calm, relaxed with no strenuous activity. No heavy lifting, no exercising, nothing stressful. Take it easy, and go softly over the next few days. This was very important and the Doctor emphasized it strongly, making clear that the very life of this baby depended on it.
The next morning was Saturday, and I usually sleep in. Before I woke up Debra got up and went to the Inside Out Center. When she got there, she saw Corey our youth leader who had come in with a group of teen age boys to record some gospel rap on the sound equipment. It was Corey’s time off, and they had all planned this activity all week. Saturday morning was also the only time they had access to the sound equipment for this purpose and it was something they all looked forward to.
When Debra saw these 8 or 10 youth, having fun, making music, spending idle time, it disturbed her, as it often did. She could not seem to help herself, but she must put them to work. The idea of anyone, but especially boys being idle was always disturbing to her. She often pointed out that her family always did work projects (when they were not at work, on weekends, in the evenings etc.). It seems this is how they learned to value people, by the amount of work they did or did not do, and their willingness or eagerness to “work”. So, when she saw this group of boys on a Saturday morning not doing “work”, the idea was unfathomable, and she felt compelled to change it.
It was December and so she asked Cory why they were not all doing something productive like putting up Christmas lights instead of making songs? He tried to tell her that this was his time off and they had all looked forward to this activity, but she began to insist that they stop and work on outside Christmas lights. When Corey refused, saying that if he could not do what he came there to do, with the youth, he would just go back home since he was off work, she became furious.
She called me and woke me up. I answered the phone to her literally screaming in my ear. She was insisting that I come there at once and compel these boys to hang Christmas lights. I tried to explain that these were inner city teen age boys that I had no legal power over. They were from the hood, and were willing to spend Saturday making gospel rap instead of selling drugs. I thought that was a good thing, but I had no power to compel them to do otherwise and if I tried they could simply leave and not come back for the church service. It made no sense to me. I was completely incapable of making her understand that I did not have the power to compel these boys to work for free hanging lights and cancel their own plans, and that they were no more likely to obey me than they were her. The only difference was that I believed they had a right to decline since they were here at this church at their own will.
She became even more furious. She began shouting at me, that I was no kind of man, and that I was raising faggots and not men. She screamed that these boys were not even male, that they all had vaginas and not testicles (I promise these were her words). Finally she screamed that she would show them all by doing the man’s work that these pussies wouldn’t do. She hung up the phone and dragged a 16 foot ladder out of the building and climbed it to begin putting up lights herself.
I rushed to the center as quickly as I could. When I arrived, I was beside myself with rage. I insisted that she get down from the ladder at once and get home where she should have been all along. I released the boys and eventually got her to go home. She stayed angry with me for a long time over that.
On Monday we went to the Doctor for the checkup. The embryo had died, failing to attach to her uterus. For months I listened to her cry as she told the story of how we had a miscarriage and our little “Jordan”, as she had named the child, would be in heaven. Finally I could bear it no more, and told her to never mention it in my presence again. She killed that baby as surly as if she had gotten an abortion. There was no reason or excuse for it. And there is no one to blame beside her. She alone made all of the decisions leading to its death.
None of the boys that day knew that we were even trying to get pregnant, much less carrying an embryo trying o attach. Neither Cory nor anyone else had any idea that we were attempting to use in vitro fertilization to have a child. We had told no one. But she knew. She knew very well the instructions we had been given, and the risk she was taking. She knew the potential consequences of her selfish and outrageous actions – nothing less than the life of our child. Yet she charged on anyway.
Yet, by far the most offensive and shocking part of this story is this: To this very day, Debra believes that we lost that baby because I was not man enough to force a 21 year old youth leader to work for her on his day off, and to force a group of at-risk youth to stop their Saturday plans and put up Christmas lights on her command instead. She has never seen any fault in herself in this. Instead, she blames me, and the boys. If I had been man enough to make these boys obey her and put up those lights she “would not have had to do it herself”.
As I look back, I am disgusted with myself as well as her. I should have known better than to marry a woman like this in the first place. But once I did, I should have had the courage to leave when I knew who she was. Yet I did not. And even after she did this murderous atrocity, I remained with her. When I think about it, I despise myself for not divorcing her then. But I did not. For that, I am to blame.
I hear a lot of people saying there is a satanic attack against Christian’s marriages. I do not believe that is accurate. There is a satanic attack against Christianity, against godliness, and especially against the Christian ministry of believers. If the devil can entice you into a self-serving, or spouse serving carnal marriage that will distract you or prevent you from fulfilling your God given ministry, then the devil will be very pleased with your marriage. If your marriage satisfies you enough to keep you from serving Christ or desiring Him, the devil would never want to hinder your marriage.
Many people have told me that the devil is trying to attack my marriage, both now and in times past. I have come to the conclusion that this is false. It is not that the devil was attacking my marriage, my marriage was itself an attack on the ministry that God called me to. And I am guilty for being so deceived by it. I pray the Lord forgive me for it.