How to Deal With Sexual Perversion in Marriage
Recently, I received a message from a woman who has been admirably consistent in her deliverance through Mountain Movers. I will call her Natalie.
She wrote:
“I’m in a hard spot. How do I make a change in my marriage in order to put to death the lust, perversion, and sexual immorality that existed before my deliverance—when my husband, who is not interested in deliverance or biblical truth, insists that this is not what God would want for our marriage?
In fact, he believes there is an evil spirit attached to Mountain Movers Ministry that is driving a wedge between us because I no longer want to participate in the illicit sexual acts I used to. I’ve been praying, but I’m unsure what to do because he keeps pushing.”
Unfortunately, situations like this are not rare for women who genuinely pursue sanctification while their husbands remain uninterested—or resistant altogether.
That is precisely why it is essential to learn how to navigate these storms according to Scripture, not emotion, intimidation, or fear—so that you maintain your footing as a God-fearing daughter and wife rather than surrendering ground to pressure.
The apostle Paul states plainly:
“For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor, not in the passion of lust like the Gentiles who do not know God.” (1 Thessalonians 4:3–5)
We will come back to that phrase—“your sanctification”—because it is far more weighty than most Christians realize.
In the New Testament, the phrase “sexual immorality” most often translates from the Greek word porneia, which refers to the surrender or selling off of sexual purity. It is where the modern word pornography originates—literally conveying the idea of commercialization or degradation of what was meant to be sacred.
So, in biblical terms, sexual immorality is any sexual expression that exists outside of God’s design for covenant relationship—whether before marriage or within it when driven by lust and perversion rather than love, holiness, and mutual honor.
Scripture does not give couples an itemized list of permitted and forbidden acts inside marriage, which means husbands and wives must walk with extraordinary sobriety, prayerfulness, and reverence for one another’s conscience. One spouse may believe watching pornography together is harmless. Another may feel pressured into fantasy-driven role-play, explicit language, sexual devices, or other practices that disturb their spirit.
Some even argue that group sex could be justified by pointing to polygamy in the Old Testament—an argument that collapses entirely when measured against the New Testament call to holiness, mutual submission, and purity of heart.
Paul warns:
“Flee youthful passions and pursue righteousness, faith, love, and peace, along with those who call on the Lord from a pure heart.” (2 Timothy 2:22)
“Youthful” does not merely refer to age. It speaks to spiritual immaturity—a lack of discernment in handling desire. Lust itself is not simply attraction; it is unrestrained craving, domination by appetite, and refusal to submit sexual expression to God’s authority.
To pursue righteousness means that husband and wife are first united in reverence for Christ—loving God above desire, honoring one another’s conscience, and cultivating peace rather than coercion.
Natalie and her husband had not done that in the years before marriage. They had fed lust instead of fleeing it. By the time they committed their lives to one another, sexual sin had already become a foundation rather than something that had been crucified. Spiritually and generally speaking, this is how marriages become vulnerable to doors that allow darkness to embed itself over time.
When sexual sin becomes habitual, it rarely travels alone. It opens pathways for further destruction:
marital breakdown
adultery
serial relationships
addictions to pornography, masturbation, alcohol, or drugs
lingering soul ties to former partners
fantasy-driven seduction
domination and control
In Natalie’s case, her husband’s resistance surfaced through anger, accusation, bitterness, and resentment because he began framing her obedience to God as betrayal of the marriage.
The pressure was spiritual before it was emotional—aimed at intimidating her into returning to old patterns. She panicked as she never imagined that pursuing her own holiness would provoke such opposition—especially from someone who professed Christianity.
I told her plainly: his hostility was not rooted in her sanctification. It was rooted in the very sin that God was dismantling, which rarely stays quiet when being confronted. I warned her sternly and lovingly that abandoning her pursuit of righteousness would not preserve peace in the marriage—it would only continue to produce more bondage.
I reiterated that giving in would reopen doors she was fighting to close, leaving her vulnerable to shame, confusion, and spiritual erosion. At the same time, I prepared her for a second strategy: temptation from another angle. When direct pressure to succumb to sin fails, the enemy often redirects a spouse’s desire elsewhere—pornography, fantasy, flirtation, secrecy, late nights, or emotional affairs—and anything else their insecurities will use to fracture the marriage covenant.
I reminded Natalie that she was in her own personal battle targeting her identity, her self-worth, and her fears of abandonment, tempting her to compromise out of emotional desperation.
In our one-on-one sessions, I had shown her how patterns of rejection, rebellion, and fear in her own life had made her vulnerable long before marriage—and how those wounds attracted corresponding bondage in her spouse.
Scripture is blunt about this reality: people are often drawn together by their own, individual wounds, trauma, insecurities, and bondage long before they are united by shared holiness. Her own deliverance journey would not automatically initiate his.
I empathized deeply with Natalie because I had lived this myself when I told Ryan that my relationship with God was changing—and that certain things were no longer negotiable. The Lord showed me that I had to make choices in the marriage because the real marriage was to Him.
“Be imitators of God, as beloved children. Walk in love, as Christ loved us… But sexual immorality and all impurity or covetousness must not even be named among you… Let there be no filthiness or foolish talk or crude joking… For you may be sure of this, that everyone who is sexually immoral or impure… has no inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and God.” (Ephesians 5)
The Lord revealed that my testimony had already been compromised long before marriage. I had called myself a believer for many years, while agreeing to arrangements that contradicted obedience. Over time, those choices eroded my spiritual integrity as a Christian.
God also made something painfully clear to me as a wife: I had to trust Him to change Ryan’s desires—not attempt to change or control them myself.
That meant releasing fear, manipulation, control, panic, and ultimatums. It meant allowing sanctification to touch every area of my own walk so that I was becoming a “doer” of His Word, not merely a “hearer.”
First Peter promises that a godly life can speak louder than arguments:
“…that they, our spouses, may be won without a word by the conduct of their wives.” (1 Peter 3:1)
I stopped fighting against my marriage and began fighting for my marriage—on my knees, in humility, and through obedience. First Corinthians 13 became my anchor passage. Love that is patient. Love that is kind. Love that is not demanding its own way. Love that is slow to anger and refuses to keep a record of wrongs.
Integrity becomes leverage in the spiritual realm.
As time passed, Ryan began to notice something unmistakable: I was changing whether he did or not. I was no longer arguing for righteousness—I was living it. That integrity created space for conviction that confrontation never could.
Over time, the tension softened and our conversations shifted. Eventually we found ourselves praying together instead of proving our points.
Sanctification should never be a side issue in moments like this. Instead, it should be our primary weapon. God is not interested in compromise. He is also not interested in emotional bargaining or in surrendering our conscience to keep the peace. He places His authority behind obedience. He defends His covenant of marriage only when His daughters refuse to retreat from fear of man and instead fear Him.
He promises to strengthen the woman who chooses faithfulness when succumbing to the pressure would be easier. He shows us that uprightness rebuilds spiritual credibility inside a marriage far faster than arguments ever could.
So, I shared with Natalie that staying the course—guarding her heart and anchoring herself in Scripture—was her wisest strategy.
I encouraged her to keep choosing righteousness even when it costs something in the short term, because God is far more interested in what He is forming in her than in how quickly the situation resolves.
When we remember that our first covenant is with Christ—and remain planted in His truth, working out our salvation through sanctification with awe before a holy God—He will, in His time, begin to move the rocky mountains inside our marriages, one surrendered step at a time.