Saturday, May 10, 2008

The First Year, Part IV

Read Part I

Read Part II

Read Part III

He said grace and I bowed my head and followed in my heart. But again, when it was over I found myself reluctant to look up at him. I pushed food around my plate, not really eating, glad that I’d eaten lunch while I was alone. After a few minutes, he spoke.

“Tricia,” he said firmly, “this is necessary. You must accept it, not just grudgingly obey. I am trying to help you grow in faith and virtue and obedience, in an area where we both know that you struggle—and sometimes don’t even bother to struggle. I know that you can’t really feel that you’re submitting to me, and to God’s will for our marriage, when you refuse to look at me and obedience taxes you so that you can’t even eat.

“If you’re ashamed, that’s as it should be. But if you try to avoid humiliation by looking away, by hiding your shame from me, you aren’t accepting the full consequences of your actions, and you aren’t keeping yourself open to me. We must be open and honest with each other.”

I nearly spoke at that moment. I nearly burst out that I couldn’t very well be open and honest if he wouldn’t allow me to speak. He anticipated me and held up his hand.

“Don’t tell me that you can’t be open with me without speaking. You’re not trying. You’re hiding your eyes from me, protecting yourself from the shame you feel. Look at me.”

The command in his voice was clear. I looked straight into his eyes, but could hold them only for an instant. My own darted away, then back, as I struggled to open myself up to him. Tears poured from my eyes as I shifted them to him, away, and back. Finally, though my lips trembled and I cried openly, I met and held his gaze.

“That’s better,” he said. “You should be crying.”

Immediately my eyes shifted away.

“No,” he said firmly. “Face it.”

I looked back at him and held his eyes, silently acknowledging that I deserved the discipline and the shame. Silently acknowledging that I needed them, that I had much learning and growing to do.

He wiped my eyes and said gently, “Now, eat,” and I found that I was able. He talked a bit about his day at work and I listened, thankful for something to break the tension but having to remind myself again and again not to comment or respond. He left me to clean up the kitchen alone and it felt like a mercy. Not speaking is so much easier when there is no one around to hear.

As I was finishing, he came back to the kitchen doorway. “Come and watch this movie with me, if you like.” Again, I felt a rush of gratitude surely out of proportion to the invitation. A movie didn’t require talking. I could be normal for a couple of hours. Or so I thought.

To be continued

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