I want tell about what happened today, but I need to get these thoughts straight in my mind. I've talked about how my husband doesn't really want to hear about my faith/religious/spiritual struggles; that they make him uncomfortable, he doesn't know what to say or how to help me. I also believe - my belief - that he doesn't want to hear my struggles because then he might have a few of his own. Well, today I felt a need to say something to him, but first I'm backing up a bit.
Since I started this journey I have told my husband in a very point blank, plain English type way that I'm having a faith crisis. Probably a half dozen times. This would be over 4 or 5 years. A couple of them I remember vividly. One evening we were sitting outside and the conversation wandered over into the realm of God. I felt the urge to share some of thoughts so I started talking, a little, because I wasn't confident about sharing too much. Finally I looked at him and said, "Tim, I having a faith crisis." He just looked at me. He didn't respond. After a minute or so he looked out at the orchard and commented that he needed to finish picking up the slash.
Another time was last August. I wrote it down in my daytimer. We were in KMart of all places. I don't remember what led the conversation to God, but something pushed my buttons and I told him I didn't feel he really heard me. Of course, he reassures me that he hears and listens and cares. Then I asked why he never asked how I was doing? That people I've never met who live across the country show more concern about my faith, or loss of faith, than he does. Somewhere in here I blurted out I wasn't even sure if I believed Jesus was divine, the son of God, in the traditional Christian understanding. He asked what he could do. I told him to pray for me. He said he does, and I believe that. Then I asked him to check with me once in awhile, ask how the journey was going. He said he would. As of today he's never asked.
One other time, last summer. I'm not sure if it was before or after my KMart meltdown, but we were standing in the kitchen. I told him I saw that he clearly didn't want to talk about religion or spirituality or any problems pertaining thereto. He admitted he really didn't. Then he said to me that he believed in God and that he went to church because it was the right thing to do, but other than that he didn't want to go down any of those "man made rat holes". Okay. So I don't say much to him.
Now today I felt the need to say something about where I'm at right now because he needs to understand what I'm capable of giving and what I'm not capable of giving in terms of passing on faith, religious education with our girls. Backing up again, about a year ago or maybe longer ago than that, our second oldest daughter was really balking at taking part in some religious activities. She absolutely refused to go to confession, and I supported her choice in that. I think my husband felt he was losing any control he had over this family, and we ended up in an argument about it. Not what I wanted to happen, but I felt it important he not try and force her to go to confession - not that in the end he actually could but he was trying everything he could think of. I finally got him to admit that you can't force someone to confess, or be sorry, that it must come from the person's heart. So in the end he dropped it but not until there were a couple unpleasant moments. When he was young he was forced into things, and I believe we often fall back on these default modes when pressured.
Anyway, there were others issues with our daughter, and we decided to take her out to dinner so we could talk. While we were there he started in on God, mortal sin, heaven, hell, church with her. She told us how she felt about religion, church. She told us the questions she had and the things that she just couldn't believe. Her dad wanted to make a point with her, but it started getting uncomfortable. She looked at me, pleading, wanting me to stop it. Then he looked at me expecting me to say something to back him up. And I couldn't. I just said that the conversation wasn't going anywhere and we should let it go so we could have a pleasant evening.
Later that evening at home he 'sort of' jumped on me for not saying something to her. He actually expected me to start lecturing her about theology, Catholic doctrine and tell her what was what, what was right, what was wrong. It was then that I realized he truly didn't understand that I couldn't do that. Either he had never truly heard me, or he didn't believe me maybe thinking I was just being an emotional female or making a mountain out of a molehill, but that whatever the case, he didn't not accept that I was having a real faith breakdown. I remember standing by the bed and the tears flowing down my face. Of course that wasn't what he wanted to happen, and he immediately felt bad. I just told him I couldn't talk right then.
The next day we went for a walk together, alone. I stopped, asked him to stop, and looked at him. Made eye contact. Then I asked what part of 'having a faith crisis' he didn't understand. I was angry, I was hurt, and I decided he needed to see that anger and hurt. He told me that he didn't know. I told him very clearly that I couldn't lecture Rachael because her questions were my questions, the issues she was having, I was having. If he wanted her to be lectured, he was going to have to do it, but I truly, truly believed that God, Jesus or whomever never wanted religion to be a source of tension in families. Since then he's pretty much let it drop. Fortunately Rachael, the daughter I'm talking about, has never refused to go Mass. She goes without too much complaint for which I'm glad because I don't know what her dad would do if she refused. He's dropped saying anything about confession and overall, I think relationships have improved drastically.
What's interesting about this is this daughter could run circles around him when it comes Catholic doctrine and teaching. When she was growing up, I made sure she got her daily dose of catechism. We studied and memorized and talked. I made sure my girls were the best catechized of any group because after all, they were going to save the church from the liberals. And, no, I don't have to ask why she's burned out and tired of religion.
I want to say that my husband is a kind, loving man. I love my husband. I have a very good marriage. I think we become complacent with one another, take each other for granted. He took my faith for granted. Just as I've done the same with him. Also, I know he has his own faith issues, but I don't know how much I want to talk about that since that's his story and not mine. I think I'll mention his faith as I see it relating to me, but I could never say exactly what he believes, doesn't believe because that's his faith.
Well, time moved forward and here we are. I restrain from talking to him about what I'm thinking. A few times we've had a good conversation about God, spirituality, just naturally, not me instigating it or bring my issues into it. But last night while we were at Mass I looked over at him, and it hit me again that I still don't believe he has accepted what I'm going through. I could almost swear that he thinks things are back at the status quo. I'm at Mass, I don't say too much of anything, we're going forward as if everything is normal. But it's not. And we still have three younger children coming along, and he's probably thinking that I'm teaching them everything Christian and Catholic. But I'm not because I just can't right now. And he should know that. I don't want him thinking I'm doing something that I'm not doing. He could be taking it for granted that I'm teaching and sharing with Catholicism and faith with the younger girls as I did with the older two. I don't want someday for him to look at me and say, "I thought you were catechizing them."
So I thought I would talk to him today. I asked him to go for a walk with me, but nothing worked out. He seemed frustrated and cranky with people, and that negative energy seemed to engulf me, and I lost my confidence that I could speak kindly, without making him defensive. So I didn't say anything. And it's all building up inside of me right now. This is my journey, my path. I'm not upset with him, he didn't do this to me. I just need to share it. Maybe I'll try tomorrow.
Well, my girls are after me to get the corned beef on the table. We're celebrating St. Paddy's Day early since everyone is home. I'll think and write more later.
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