My wife is an extraordinary person. I respect her a great deal. She is smart and beautiful, strong and persistent, loyal and devoted and loves serving her family and our friends. Writing about her is both easy and tricky. She has revealed a lot of herself to our friends, for instance her struggle with Bulimia before and after our marriage, for some time she kept it from me I might add. And her struggle with what I consider PTSD from her fathers sexual and later verbal abuse when she was in grade school and into her early teens. This abuse has come out to me and some others over the years but until recently, I had not made the deeper connections and understanding of how it affected our love for each other. Suffice it to say, she is so much more remarkable than I realized when we were married in 1977 and how I have come to know her today.
For many of those years she kept some of those traumas to herself and could not allow me in to her heart or mind as much as I desired. In the last year, leading up to my retirement a few months ago, I began to revisit the idea that we needed to be closer to each other. My way of saying this, rather bluntly was, in my New York City style of curtly demanding something was simple. I told her on several occasions that I wanted more from her. I wanted her heart.
This proved to be very painful to her at first. I felt she loved football in a way that she should love and adore me. Her brother played professional ball and sports was a very safe space for her to excel and be herself. I felt that there were other things in our lives that came before me, like family or the care of our mothers in their last years. And while I have to admit that some of that was selfish on my part, we simply did not talk about it or know how to talk about it without fighting and neither of us wanted to fight.
This summer since I had more time on my hands after retirement, we began to spend more time together. And she leaned in toward me, responding to my calls for her heart, or as you might imagine, more intimacy. At first, this might seem like a question of more sex, and again, I have to admit that I like more sex. I suspect I’m not alone there, most guys probably think this way.
But we realized that what I wanted and what Debbie would come to want in a short time was something more than sexual intimacy, although that was part of it. We wanted to have each others hearts. If you make me try to explain that idea, I might disappoint you, but I think you instinctively know what I’m getting at.
Debbie is the biggest giver in our family and we had her spread pretty thin in the last few years. She loved and cared for grade school kids that looked up to her and supported the teaching staff at her school with grace and wisdom. Then our mothers took turns toward their last years of life and both died within weeks of each other, almost two years ago. Debbie was the primary and often sole caregiver for both of them. A short part of that time she was caring for both of them at the same time and the rest of us as well. I’m not exaggerating when I say that it’s a miracle that she came through that time and has taken on the role of lover and wife with such courage and that she survived it all. I helped some and so did other family members, but Debbie was in a very tough spot through it all. I cannot explain more nor thank her enough for the care of our two mothers that Debbie provided before and after they died. She loved them both with a huge heart love. My mother was extra blessed by Debbie because Debbie had to be extra patient with her. My mom could be a pain in the backside more often than not and Debbie survived that without coming to hate her. I’ll leave it at that, maybe someday I’ll give an example, but for now, lets just say if they gave out Gold Medals for Caregiving, Debbie would have at least two of them and probably several more for the rest of our family. I tried to help her by being less of a pain in the backside and being more supportive to her and her often unmet needs during that time, but I’m sure I fell short.
All that to say, that coming out of that time and into another period of relational adjustment with me is a bit mind boggling and she has handled it with grace and determination and love. I love her for it.
In fact, this summer I created the first stay at home spa day for her to say thank you. I tried to give her everything that a spa resort could give her and make the most peaceful day possible for her. Ain’t I sweet? Well, let’s just say I look forward to the next one. Husbands, if you don’t do this for your wife, you are missing out. I’m just saying.
We had 5 arguments as I remember it this summer. Remember now, that Debbie is changing and leaning in toward me with all her heart as best she knows how. And each time I started these arguments because I felt like we could do better and something was still missing. They were painful for both of us, maybe excruciating for her because she was already making serious changes and overtures of love to me. She had to get mad at me several times to get me to see things from her perspective and after the last argument, I settled down and realized so clearly how fortunate I am to be married to her.
I wanted more and faster and she wanted more and slower. I saw her past traumas as obstacles and she saw them as fears. I sometimes wish I could have helped her with her fears when we were first married, but we know that was not possible, me being 19 years old and so wet behind the ears that I was drowning in stupid selfishness. I couldn’t help myself, let alone help her face the traumas of her past and go through them and overcome the pain of them. In fact, unbeknownst to me, I often triggered her traumas by doing something or acting in a similar way that her father had, causing her more pain and reopening old wounds and fears. I had no idea that I was doing that, but I still ended up doing it.
If God had not come into our lives a few short years after we were married, I am fairly certain that we would not have stayed married. We would not have two wonderful children, Kristy and Michael and we would not have shared ourselves as pastors with so many wonderful church members and communities. Somehow, the path that God set us on, made us stay together. And we loved each other through it all.
This summer, that love got a lot sweeter and richer and higher and more beautiful. I will talk more about this summer in the next post. Other posts might go back a bit in time to where the two of us came from and how that set us up to get married in three weeks, and how we have kept a home together for 45 years. I’ll also talk about some of my regrets, letting my job as a pastor fail to show me how to be a good husband and father, and how I struggled with the insecurities of serving the church and its members and keeping my supervisors happy at the same time. It was not a win win situation and I hope to offer a few thoughts on what should be your priority as a pastor and how to keep it a priority.
This post ends with a gratitude thought of how persistent Debbie is to seek out God’s ways. She has always led me in this path, a step or two ahead and I want her to know that this has made all, and I mean all the difference in our wonderful lives. When she first took up a friendship with God, I was terrified of losing her. I didn’t really have her you might say, or at least I thought that to be the case. But then for her to give her heart to God when I felt like she couldn’t give it to me, that did scare me a lot. I decided after a week or so to get on board with this love of God thing as well, maybe, partly out of the fear of losing her. I’m very happy to say, that I found love from both as we joined together in our love for God. Our love this summer is the fruit of our courage to turn our eyes to Jesus and look full in His wonderful face. Looking at Debbie’s face every morning as we enjoy the sunrise together reminds me that God is well pleased with her devotion to him and her devotion to me. And it makes me so deeply devoted to them as well. Heaven and earth have held still to see God move in our lives and I owe a lot of that to Debbies sticktoitness and love of God. Thanks Dear.