By Leolani DeLima
Within the first year of our marriage, I knew something was wrong. The thought that ran through my head was clear and heavy: We’re not going to make it. But what I’ve come to learn—and what’s become the foundation of our story—is this: We’re not going to make it without Jesus.
One of the first times I truly cried out to God was in my son Kapena’s nursery. I dropped to my knees, overwhelmed and unsure where to turn. My prayer wasn’t eloquent—it was raw and desperate: “God, I remember someone at church saying You could help me. Well, here I am, and I need a whole lot of help.”
Like many women, I often internalized the blame. I thought maybe if I were a better wife, a better mom—if I were prettier, skinnier, wealthier—then maybe everything would be okay. I even tried bargaining with God: Make me enough, and maybe our marriage will survive.
But in His grace, God didn’t grant those wishes. Instead, He whispered something deeper: “If you’ll just follow Me.” That invitation, in 1988, changed the trajectory of our lives.
In January 1991, I committed to a weeklong fast with my church—14 hours a day of no food, no water, no distractions, just prayer and Scripture. As a young mom with a toddler, I was allowed to care for my son and tend to our home, but the fast marked a turning point. It was during that time of pule hamau (silent prayer) that I encountered God in a way that transformed me.
Later that year, we welcomed our second child, Kalena Ku. My husband had planned a special birthday dinner at Ruth’s Chris to celebrate my 26th birthday. Life felt full—on the outside. But before the entrees even arrived, he leaned forward and quietly confessed: “I’ve been hiding something from you for years. I’m a drug addict and I’ve been doing crystal meth.”
I was blindsided. Shocked. Heartbroken. That dinner wasn’t what I expected, but that confession was the key to freedom. Scripture says, “Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed” (James 5:16). And that’s exactly what happened. From that night on, my husband never touched drugs again. He’s been clean and sober for 34 years.
We were both ordained in 1995, and most days, we lived a good life—raising a family, serving in church. But there were undercurrents: unresolved anger, emotional outbursts, and a home culture where we often walked on eggshells. It became our “normal,” even though it was far from the peace God intended for us.
Everything came to a halt after our last child left the house. Suddenly it was quiet. Too quiet. My father, who had been living with us during his final months, had just passed. Our dog followed soon after. What had once been a home filled with life, music, and laughter was now heavy with grief and silence. I found myself asking: Lord, is this what You promised me all those years ago?
But I knew what had to be done. There was still one demon left to confront—and I needed backup. I prayed, “God, I’m going to need help. Send reinforcements.” Not long after, my husband got a call: breakfast with two pastors. At that meeting, Pastor Cal looked at him and simply said, “You’re stuck.”
That was seven years ago.
Since then, we’ve been on a journey of healing, truth, and grace. We’ve seen the hand of God restore every area of our lives. We now pray that same healing over our children—that they would experience the same love and restoration we’ve come to know.
Six years ago, we completed the Excelerator marriage program. It sparked a rhythm in our home: daily devotions together, open conversations, and a commitment to Scripture. It gave us a place to connect, to speak truth in love, and to pursue unity. Since then, we’ve read the entire Bible together every year—for five years straight. As Psalm 119:105 reminds us, “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.”
Jesus is, and will always be, the glue holding our marriage together. He’s carried us through our hardest years, and He’s the reason we can now look ahead with hope, gratitude, and faith.
God’s not done with our story—and He’s certainly not done with yours either.
