Ridiculous? Sure. But I'm surprised at how many times a couple in crisis will come to me and tell me essentially the same story about their previous counseling experience. Even though they had just experienced the trauma of an affair, the counselor spent one or two sessions asking questions about their condition and then began to focus on issues like communication and conflict resolution. In fact, some counselors went so far as to tell the couple that it would not be beneficial for them to focus on the affair.

And so the couple tried to do what they were told; they struggled to practice the fundamentals of healthy relationship while their marriage continued to bleed out. When I hear stories like these, I am infuriated because I know someone failed to give the help they needed. Focusing on relationship basics is certainly an important part of the counseling process, but only after a couple is stable enough to do so. 

Why do some counselors deal so poorly with affair issues? I assume that most of them just are not knowledgable enough or comfortable enough with such messy situations. They turn so quickly to the basic skills because they feel more confident in these areas. But their affectiveness is usually no better than a doctor who prescribes blood pressure medicine to an accident victim without treating his wounds.

If your marriage needs a tune-up, then most counselors are going to be able to help you find your way to a more satisfying relationship. But if it has experienced a trauma, be more intentional about finding a therapist who has expertise and experience in the area of affair recovery. Make sure the wounds have been treated before you return to the "diet and exercise" of your relationship.

He spends a lot of time focusing on these two women in his attempt to discover a measure of certainty, but fears the risk of choosing one over the other. If John doesn't change his focus, he will likely remain trapped in his confusion until his circumstances degenerate to a point where one or both of his options remove themselves. If this happens, if his choice becomes a choice by default, he will not find much lasting contentment in it.

John is making a critical error. He has failed to understand that unless his decision is based on a firm conviction of who he is and who he is becoming, he is like a rudderless boat caught in a storm, waiting to see which way the wind will blow him. He needs a rudder. He needs a firm conviction about the direction of his life. The clearer that vision becomes to him, the easier this choice will be.

The questions that have been swirling in John's mind have been: Who do I love more? Which relationship brings less risk? Less regret? More happiness? Who do I want to spend my future with? What would be the positive and negative impacts of each choice? But he finds no real confidence in his answers. Instead, he should be asking questions like these:

• What kind of man am I becoming? 
• What kind of man do I want to become? 
• Am I becoming more like, or less like, my father? Is that good? 
• In regard to who I am, what things do I want to be true of me 5 years from now? 10 years? What kind of legacy do I want to leave? 
• Do I understand what it means to love intimately? Would the people closest to me say I love well, especially when faced with disappointment or difficulty? What is it in me that keeps me from giving or experiencing love consistently? 
• Do I believe I can change? Do I want to change? 
• Do I know the unique purposes or passions that define me? I challenge men to wrestle with issues like these before making other choices.  

We need a rudder; we need a conviction of purpose that remains constant even when life around us becomes a storm of confusion.

Honestly, once a man is caught up in the emotional turmoil of an affair, it is very difficult for him to pull himself out long enough to give careful consideration to these other questions. The passion of his heart is so strong that, once it is set in motion, he feels it must take its course. I have been witness to the numerous shipwrecks at the end of these journeys. But it doesn't have to be this way.

When Craig came to counseling with his wife, he admitted that the current affair was not his first one and that he still had an emotional longing for the woman who had been his most recent lover. But he recognized a pattern in his life that he wanted to break; he longed to be a different kind of man, a different kind of husband. Over the next months, his commitment to honesty and change became the foundation for a whole different way of experiencing love. He has a clear perspective of who he is becoming. It keeps him on course.

If you are caught in the kind of crisis I've described here, get some help. Talk to a counselor, or a pastor, or a healthy friend. Find your rudder and then move with purpose. But if you are not in this place, all the better. Do the work of rudder-building now while the waters are relatively calm. You'll be better prepared for whatever waves are ahead.

Intimacy requires forgiveness, and forgiveness requires compassion.

We hesitate when it comes to pointing out the short-comings of an offended person. After all, why should anything be required of the victim? Shouldn't the offender carry the full responsibility for making things right? And in the case of an affair, shouldn't the cheater be expected to do all the work of fixing the marriage?

Absolutely... if the only concerned is for justice or recompense. But if there is hope for healing, then there must be a place for grace and compassion. If there is to be genuine forgiveness, the offended spouse must be willing to consider the offender's burden of shame and give them permission to let go of it. 

I hear the objections: What if the offender doesn't ask for forgiveness? What if there is no remorse? What if the offender isn't even around anymore? What if the offense was huge (extreme abuse, acts of violence, etc.)? Those are fair questions that demand thoughtful consideration, but this article deals with a very specific condition: the need for forgiveness in intimate relationships. Intimacy requires forgiveness, and forgiveness requires compassion.

Our acts of self-protection are likely to continue until we believe the offender feels enough remorse. But it is at this very point that we may get stuck...

Of course, compassion is not the first response that rises when we are hurt by someone we love. On the contrary, most of us react by either attacking or retreating. Our acts of self-protection are likely to continue until we believe the offender feels enough remorse. But it is at this very point that we may get stuck, especially when the wound is deep. In response to our pain, we may limit our vulnerability by requiring ongoing penitence without offering hope for pardoning. We punish by withholding our forgiveness.

Last year, a married couple came to see me because they had not been able to move past the husband's affair that had occurred over 10 years ago. I was the latest in a series of counselors they had seen. After a few sessions, it became clear that the wife had no intention of granting forgiveness to her husband. Despite the fact that he had confessed, repented, and never returned to that behavior again, she continued to focus on his betrayal. Her unforgiveness allowed her to stay in control and minimized the risk of being hurt again. But they were miserable; their marriage was full of conflict and void of intimacy.

I finally asked her, "What could your husband say or do that would allow you to begin moving toward forgiveness?" She just stared at me, expressionless, and finally said, "Nothing, because he can't undo the past." At least she was being honest, but her marriage was doomed.

Please let me be very clear about this: I believe it is wrong to push a betrayed spouse too quickly toward forgiveness. Forgiving out of obligation is no more satisfying than when my parents made me hold my sister's hand after we were fighting in the back seat of the car. Outward compliance; inward resentment.

If there is a desire for the restoration of the marriage on the other side of an affair, the betrayed spouse will need to eventually grant forgiveness. The healing process breaks down when this doesn't happen. Instead of giving the message, I'm willing to let go of this and leave it in the past, the hurt spouse communicates any of the following: 

• Withholding forgiveness is a good way to punish you.
• I'll let you know when you've done enough to earn my forgiveness.
• Forgiving you just gives you the right to hurt me again.
• I'll forgive, but I won't forget... and I'll keep reminding you of that.
• In future conflicts, reminders of your affair are fair weapons for me to use against you.

Is it okay to want to see contrition? Of course. (See the article Forgiving An Affair: Full Forgiveness for more information about this.) Can it take time to truly forgive? Yes, and deep hurts often take more time to heal. But consider your partner's relief, not just your own. Don't get stuck in your pain. Find your way to I forgive you.