ParT 2

December 17th, 2025

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Since my last post, I’ve been humbled by the abundance of messages of prayer, encouragement, and shared stories of brokenness and redemption that have come in from all over the country. Several of you shared that the post helped put words to experiences you’ve carried quietly for a long time, and several even said it pointed them toward the gospel for the first time. Ashley and I are deeply grateful.

The rebuilding continues and will for some time, but our family is together. Ashley and I are committed to the daily work of rebuilding what was lost. Ashley continues to sit with me when my pain surfaces, pursuing Christ and rebuilding trust with humility, transparency, and accountability. As she has helped tend to my healing, I’ve been given grace to meet her in her pain as well. Together, we’ve watched God open doors that had been locked for years—doors hiding shame from long before she met me that she never knew how to open.

We’ve learned firsthand just how destructive shame truly is. The very first thing Adam and Eve did after sinning was hide. Shame, secrecy, and hidden sin only serve to distort our view of God—and when we can’t see Him clearly, we lose sight of ourselves. That distortion compounds over time and leads us places we never thought we’d go. It’s exactly what the enemy wants. But God is never fooled, limited, or threatened by the enemy’s plans. The gospel is an invitation to turn from sin, bring it into the light, confront it with truth, and trust Christ to redeem what feels beyond repair.

Over the past five months, we’ve been able to find our way back to each other in ways I didn’t know were possible. We’ve shared some incredible moments of reconnection—standing together in Alaska, choosing one another again on quiet dates, celebrating fifteen years of marriage, and dreaming forward toward a vow renewal that will mark what is becoming Justin and Ashley 2.0. It's not lost on me that not every story unfolds this way, but by God’s grace, our children are watching something sacred take shape: what can happen when rubble is met with restoration.

And in times of isolation, silence, and confusion, we’ve learned that God does not abandon us. While the vast majority of people who now know our story have shown unbelievable support and love to my wife and kids, the journey hasn’t been universally marked by kindness. That’s not unusual in situations like ours. There are occasional looks in public, a few rumors that don’t reflect reality, and assumptions about Ashley’s heart or my choice to stay.

As I mentioned in my last post, 2nd Corinthians 2 (reaffirming love for the repentant) has become something of an anthem for me. In this season, I’m intentionally protective of her. Neither of us like being apart from the other for long, and I’m steady in my resolve to speak truth over her where she remains vulnerable—especially in public. Few people understand how gut-wrenching it is to be truly repentant and still left in despair.

Because of this, when we reluctantly visited our home church in Colorado late October, she was unsure how she’d be received. But when we walked through the doors of the church that Sunday, we were met with something far louder and more enduring than despair—the unmistakable loving-kindness of Jesus Christ.

The sermon that morning was from 1 Kings, titled “Living with a Divided Heart." Ashley shot a knowing glance to me and laughed—she might know a thing or two about that. After tears and wholehearted amens from both of us, we were greeted with overwhelming warmth by people. As we were leaving, the lead pastor—a longtime friend I had served alongside for years—met us at the door. Because of who Ashley is now, she began to apologize for what she had done, but before she could finish her sentence, he embraced her—the first time a pastor other than me had looked her in the eye since everything came out months earlier.

Without hesitation, he interrupted her saying: “We love you. You’re no different than any of us. None of us should be in ministry. It’s all grace. God is going to use this. You are loved.”

The voice of a true shepherd—someone I’ve known not only to preach the truth, but to live it when the rubber meets the road. Christ makes it clear that He casts out no one who comes to Him, and seeing His church respond that way to my wife in her desperation was like water in the desert. It's easy to turn away from someone whose sin offends us. What's difficult is to look inward and be reminded of our own—to allow that awareness to fuel our forgiveness because we remember the great debt we owed Christ that He willingly covered with His blood. What I learned from this pastor and the Christ-likeness of his flock is that people who truly understand what Christ has done for them cannot help but run towards the broken. It's a moment I'll never forget. And He's right. God will use it. God IS using it.

As for now though, neither one of us is rushing back to a stage. But I wholeheartedly believe my wife will sing again someday. And God has been faithful to give me songs in the quiet, and they’re beginning to find their way into the world.

In January, “The Response (Holy)” will return as it was, followed by a brand new recording of “Word of Christ” in February. In March, “Blessed Exchange,” a song I first shared with my former church last Good Friday, will be released as well. These songs are familiar to some, but they’re being carried forward with new weight and new breath. Ashley’s voice will support mine in the background throughout all three as usual—soft, strong, and unmistakably hers. And there are songs yet to be recorded that I’ve written that I can only imagine being sung through her voice, her renewed heart, and her incredible story of God’s grace. That day will come.

There’s many more waiting in the wings. I have at least ten songs ready right now—songs born out of loss, healing, surrender, and grace—and I believe they’re meant to lift the name of Christ and meet people in real places. As many of you know, creating and recording takes time and financial resources, so if you ever want to support the process, I’d love to connect. I can’t wait to share what God has been forming.

And even though I’ve decided after this last season not to return to a church staff for now, I’m still a pastor. My heart remains deeply committed to Christ’s church—especially churches without the resources for creative development. I’m currently building an organization that will provide church resources: creative tools (sermon bumpers and graphics, lyric videos), discipleship materials, leadership support, and things like guidance for building healthy volunteer teams. I’m excited to share more soon.

There’s a lot in the rearview mirror—and even more through the windshield that only God knows. We’re trusting Him. Our story isn’t over, but it is simple: even the worst of sinners can be redeemed, because Christ loves to save. That’s His heart. He is gentle and lowly.

If you’re carrying hidden sin, it will eventually come into the light. Ashley and I know how scary and costly that is. But even if everyone abandons you, God will meet you with His steadfast love and forgiveness. God knew where Adam and Eve were—even when He asked, “Where are you?” He may be asking you the same. And even in the beginning, God didn’t destroy them where they stood. He clothed them with grace, mercy, and a promise of the One who would come and save: Christ Jesus.

While we would have never chosen the vehicle to get here, the gospel—and God’s heart for marriage—have never been more clear or more beautiful. More updates and incredible parts of this story will eventually come, but the vast majority of our time is spent on healing and what’s next. For now, thank you—for the prayers, the support, and the love.