The moment my wife realised that I cannot cheat on her, she started sex starving me.

My name is David.

From my youth, I made a covenant with God. I told myself that no matter what happened in life, I would live a life of purity and faithfulness. Even after marriage, I never planned to betray my wife or dishonor God.

I’m a pastor, and before I was ordained, my father in the Lord gave me a piece of advice that changed my life.

He said,

“David, you’re still young. Ministry will expose you to many temptations. Ladies will come around. If God has given you someone you love, marry early and build your home.”

I listened.

I got married to the woman I loved deeply, Abigail.

I thought marriage would bring companionship, peace, understanding, and a safe place to rest after the stress of ministry.

But I was wrong.

Very wrong.

From the very beginning of our marriage, intimacy became a struggle.

Not because my wife was sick.

Not because she had a medical condition.

Not because we had children keeping us busy.

She simply wasn’t interested.

Every single time we were going to be intimate, I had to beg.

Yes, beg.

I would plead, persuade, explain, and sometimes practically campaign before my own wife would agree to sleep with me.

There were times we would go one month, two months, sometimes longer without intimacy.

And whenever I raised the issue, Abigail would say:

“If I had known you liked sex this much, I wouldn’t have married you.”

That statement used to break me.

It was as if she forgot that before being a pastor, I was first a man.

Blood still flowed through my veins.

I wasn’t asking for anything strange.

I simply wanted a healthy marriage.

But because she knew my commitment to God was strong and that I would never cheat, she became comfortable neglecting that aspect of our relationship.

I kept talking.

I kept explaining.

I kept praying.

Nothing changed.

Then one day, something happened that shook me to my core.

There was a church program that evening, and I arrived early to pray and prepare.

While I was in my office, my PA came in and said:

“Sir, there’s a lady outside. She says it’s very urgent.”

As pastors, once we hear “urgent,” our hearts immediately want to help.

So I asked him to let her in.

The lady came in crying.

She told me how the man she was supposed to marry suddenly left her.

She was heartbroken.

Devastated.

She even talked about ending her life.

Part of me felt I should immediately refer her to one of the women in church.

But another part of me wanted to listen and encourage her.

That was my mistake.

As she continued talking and crying, I noticed myself becoming emotionally drawn into the conversation.

Her tears became sympathy.

Sympathy slowly became attraction.

Before I knew it, I had moved closer to comfort her.

Then suddenly…

She tried to kiss me.

In that very moment, the Holy Spirit sounded an alarm inside me.

A loud one.

I immediately realised something dangerous.

I had been starving emotionally and physically for too long.

And if I didn’t end that meeting immediately, I could become the very man I had spent my entire life trying not to become.

I stood up instantly.

Asked her to leave my office.

And handed her over to trusted female counsellors.

After she left, I sat alone and asked myself a painful question:

“David, how close did you just come to destroying everything?”

That incident opened my eyes.

I knew I couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine at home.

So after the program, I called my father in the Lord.

I explained everything.

Not because I wanted to embarrass my wife.

But because I needed help.

We met.

He prayed with us.

Counselled us.

His wife also spoke to Abigail.

I left that meeting hopeful.

I genuinely believed things would change.

But the moment we got home, my wife exploded.

“So our marriage has become public property now?”

I was shocked.

I reminded her that these were our spiritual parents, not strangers.

But she wasn’t listening.

Then she said the words that nearly ended our marriage.

“I need a break.”

A break.

From her marriage.

Because I wanted intimacy with my own wife.

I couldn’t believe it.

She packed her bags and left for her mother’s house.

And for the first time in my life, I became emotionally exhausted.

I stopped calling.

Stopped begging.

Stopped explaining.

Stopped chasing.

I handed everything over to God.

A few days later, her mother called me to ask what happened.

I explained everything.

And from the background, I could hear her mother shouting:

“Are you out of your mind? Go back to your husband!”

I quietly ended the call.

I didn’t want to listen anymore.

I was tired.

Then one week later…

I opened my door.

And there she was.

Abigail.

Standing there.

Crying.

Broken.

Humbled.

She apologised.

Not the kind of apology people give because they were caught.

A genuine apology.

She told me how her mother refused to support her decision.

How her friends couldn’t give her the peace she had abandoned.

How she finally realised that she was destroying her own home over something that should have been discussed and resolved.

For the first time, she saw things differently.

Honestly?

Part of me wanted to walk away.

I had suffered.

I was hurt.

I was drained.

But she came back again, this time with our spiritual parents.

They spoke to me.

Encouraged me.

Asked me to give her one more chance.

After much prayer and consideration, I did.

And that decision changed everything.

Slowly, Abigail began to change.

She stopped seeing intimacy as a burden.

She became intentional.

She became understanding.

She became a true partner.

For the first time, I wasn’t the only one making an effort.

I wasn’t the only one reaching out.

I wasn’t the only one sacrificing.

Today when my wife says,

“Honey, I want you to take me on a hot trip to Jerusalem.” We both laugh about it, although at the beginning, it sounded weird to me, because I had to ask myself if this was my wife.

But over time, I got used to it that this woman was making efforts on this marriage.

Today, as I celebrate our wedding anniversary, I can only thank God.

The marriage that was hanging by a thread became one of the greatest testimonies of my life.

God didn’t just restore our marriage.

He restored our friendship.

He restored our love.

He restored our understanding.

And today, we’re stronger than we’ve ever been.

Two Lessons I Learned From This Experience

1. Never take your partner’s faithfulness for granted.

Just because someone is committed to you doesn’t mean they don’t have emotional and physical needs. Every relationship thrives when both people intentionally care for each other.

2. Pride destroys what humility can repair.

Many homes don’t break because of major problems. They break because one person refuses to listen, communicate, or make necessary adjustments. Humility can save what pride is trying to destroy.

Final Thoughts

Marriage is not about who is right.

It’s about two people choosing each other again and again, even when it’s difficult.

The strongest marriages are not the ones without problems.

They are the ones where both people are willing to fight for the relationship instead of fighting against each other.

Today, I thank God because what almost became my greatest heartbreak has become one of my greatest testimonies.

And my prayer is simple:

May our love continue to grow.

May our friendship continue to deepen.

And may God keep teaching us how to choose each other every single day.