Of husbands and housewives

What a week!

Wayne and I have been really going through it. Whenever we get these "seasons" I find them difficult to bear because there is no one I really WANT to turn to.... not my mom, not my friends, not my brother, not my pastors, who would grasp the situation with eyes of COMPLETE understanding. I wish that there was someone who, like a fly on the wall, had observed our family dynamic for years and knew who we REALLY were and what our motives were, etc. That that person could objectively hear me out and know the "right thing to say," but the fact is that no one but God knows the whole story and no one but God knows what is needed to fix it because where our marriage is concerned, wounds are deep and communication is the key.

Wayne and I, when we "feel" love for each other (which is often, of course!) feel it powerfully. Our emotional love is a propelling force for us, helping us to do and be the best we can to accomplish whatever tasks we know God has presented for us. We have seen miracles in our lives through these times. Our softer moments are so precious to me. Particularly now that we have children, because our softer moments look like.... hallmark cards. Or movies. There's nothing like strolling around a beautiful southern lake hand in hand with your man, you holding one kid and he holding the other child's hand, sunset exploding reds and purples over the water. Or hugging on the couch in a giant meld of arms and legs, watching some kids' movie and giggling together. It's those moments that often get us through the tough times. So when we become accustomed to those moments (ie. when we FEEL love for each other on a regular, day to day basis)..... it's amazing. Just before I left for Philadelphia, we had an entire two week period with no fights, no harsh words, no "hurt" moments. It was magical. We missed each other while me and the kids were gone, but upon returning, no matter how much we wanted to continue that way, we just couldn't seem to. It took us nearly two weeks to figure out what the disconnect was, and now that I'm staring it in the face, I can't believe I didn't think of it before.

Last week culminated in some pretty stressful stuff. My "complaints" about's Wayne's behavior (And believe me, he has his own laundry list about mine) got stronger as he seemingly threw away the gentleness and thoughtfulness he had practically fought to acquire over the last few years and became his old, stubborn, angry self. Days went by and he became more agitated, until I could hardly stand to be in a room with him, but everytime I asked him: "why are you so MEAN????" I was met with resistance or worse-- standoffishness. He was incredibly sweet to the kids, and even when I thought he had completely LOST his temper and would take it out on anyone around, he would surprise me by switching modes and getting super loving with the children. Which made me sad, and somewhat jealous. I was glad he was being kind to them. But why wouldn't he be kind to me?

The entire ickyness of the week continued as we were PLAGUED with problems,.most of which I was too nervous about even sharing with him for fear that he would just lose it completely--- things like Medicaid not really covering Annika's arm (WOAH. Broken limbs are ridiculously expensive.) and getting "no," after "no," or simply silence, with regards to the eight million job applications we had filled out. Rent looms around the corner and with all our savings having fizzled out after a YEAR AND A HALF of unemployment, we just didn't know what to do. He escaped by being "Elsewhere," and I sat in the house with the kids, usually lost in prayer, and not really focusing the way I should have been on the children.

When we finally had hope after a positive second interview, my plan to rejoice with him was foiled when a lost social security card and a poorly filled out application sent him into a rage that actually spilled out into the "public world." I was having tea with a relatively new friend and talking church business when he came home upset that I had filled out some paperwork incorrectly and revealed his temper in front of her, which was one of the most mortifying experiences I've had to date. That night was our date night, and to be honest, I didn't even want to have it.

I had previously found these sale steaks that looked decent, and had been marinating them all day, hoping to make him a really good meal he would enjoy. I had purposely worn out the children to ensure that they would be sleepy by the time GHI started and taken care to clean the house thoroughly so he would come home to a clean, loving, nice environment. But his mood was so sour I just wasn't sure what to do. And my disappointment was great. I was so angry about his outburst in front of my friend, still, that I was just at a loss. I made the dinner anyways, but my heart wasn't in it.

During date night, though, we discovered something. Or rather, I discovered something. The poor man was having the worst troubles of his short life. He was under so much stress and pressure that he just broke down completely, and actually scared me with his sadness.
I put myself in his shoes. I saw him go off to the army excitedly, only to be sent home after COMPLETING infantry school and accomplishing his goal over a lie. I saw him lose his footing, unsure of what the future held, and stepping out to find a "new" thing to strive towards. I saw him come to an understanding that all he had ever wanted to be was a soldier, and saw him try again, only to be sidetracked by this strange French girl who stole his heart and attention from what was really important. I saw him have to quickly grow into a providing MAN, learning to lean on the Lord as she suddenly and unexpectedly became pregnant and I saw him give up his soldier dream to dream for the Lord. I saw him strive towards holiness and perfection. I saw him lose his footing as various churches knocked the wind out from under him. I saw him drive across the country on a dream. I saw him come back, nearly defeated. I saw him work towards ministry, only to discover that what he believed was not the whole story. I saw him realize that as a Catholic, his work would not be "in the ministry," but that like Paul, he would need to find his tentmaking job. I saw his pounding head as he desperately sought that "thing" he would be good at-- that place he would fit in. I saw him try and try for a year and a half to place himself. I saw it all crumbling around him as his wife, the one who was supposed to get him the most, looked at him with disdain and disrespect because he was lost and scared. How could my heart not move for him?? I wept in his arms.

We have to talk to each other. Even if it has to be without words. We have to hold each other up, because otherwise, none of us are getting out of this unscathed.

Yesterday, the Company we were really hoping for had him come down for a pee test and to fill out his W4 and tax forms. They will call him with a schedule as soon as his pee test comes back clean. He will have a job, for the first time in a year and a half--- not just any job. This particular company is one of the top three places to work in Fayetteville, has excellent benefits, and he'll be making more than he ever has here.

And to make matters better.... he has revealed a plan to me. An objective,. and one which is perfectly achievable. I love his plan. I love my man's heart. And I'm so sorry that I forget, sometimes, how to talk to him. I'm so sorry that I forget to be who God called me to be--- his encourager, his bride, the One who is FOR him.

Thank you for your prayers.