“What are you talking about? I’m spiritual, not religious. I don’t need Jesus in my life. I already have God.”
In spite of my beliefs, I began to think about what Rosa had said and started listening to sermons on television every Sunday morning while Kenny was gone. What Rosa had tried to share with me began to make sense. Each week I found myself getting on my knees, asking Jesus to come into my heart. There was no emotional feeling attached to it. I just repeated the prayer I heard on TV. I also thought about going back to church.
At about the same time I had been reading a book about Luke, the Apostle. He was the only disciple who had never met Jesus. He wrote his gospel after speaking with Mary and the other disciples about their experiences with Jesus. Mary, the mother of Jesus knew what it was like to experience an unplanned pregnancy. Looking down at my growing belly, I finally began to enjoy being pregnant. I was no longer angry or scared about having another child. Walking outside one night while the kids were sleeping, I looked up towards the sky, beautifully lit up by the glistening stars, and called out to Mary, “Help me to be a good mother to this baby, and please help my marriage to get better.”
On our drive home from our next meeting I shared my experiences with Rosa. “I love attending my weekly meetings it has become a way of life for me, and I am always reading self-help books. I have also been listening to Christian radio shows, hoping I will feel better about myself. But I still feel like something is missing.”
“I know what you mean,” Rosa said, “I’ve been thinking about starting a rosary group and praying to Mary once a week. Will you join me?”
“I do love Mary and I want to pray more, but right now I just want to have this baby. Can we talk about it after the baby is born?”
“Sure, I can wait.”
One night, a few weeks later, I heard a truck pull up in front of our house. Running outside, I watched as my young, handsome, muscular husband came striding towards me. He picked me up in his arms and smiled at me. “I missed you. I really missed you.”
“Me too,” I gazed into his eyes. I was in love again.
The next day, after watching the kids play, Kenny patted my belly, and said, “Something happened to me while I was gone. But I can’t tell you yet. First I need to see a doctor.”
No matter how much I begged him he wouldn’t tell me. Crazy thoughts went through my head over the next couple days wondering what his secret was.
A few days later after he returned from his doctor’s appointment, he drew me aside.
“Remember a few months before you got pregnant you flirted with Randy, and you swore you never had an affair with him?”
Hanging my head in shame at the memory, “Yah, I told you I was sorry. I guess I was mad at you because you started drinking again. I lost weight after Kristy was born and I thought I looked really good. You never even noticed. I swear to you nothing happened, really!”
“Well I was at a truck stop over Labor Day weekend and met another driver. He talked me into going to a bar where nude women danced. I never intended anything to happen really, but I took this dancer back to my motel and one thing led to another and we had sex. I immediately felt bad about it and kicked her out in the middle of the night. I left the motel and stayed at the truck stop for the next few days. She came by to see me and we just talked. I felt sorry for her and wanted to do something to help her. Honestly, I just listened to her talk about her problems. Anyways I thought I caught a disease, that’s why I went to see the doctor. Thank God, he said everything came out negative. I just wanted to get revenge on you, but I’m not mad at you anymore.”
I was speechless! I stood there trying to process what I had just heard, trying to think of something to say while anger, hurt and resentment boiled up inside me.
“Why did you want to get revenge on me?”
“I know you had an affair with Randy.”
“I told you I never had an affair!”
He walked out of the room believing he had done the right thing, convinced he had reason to commit adultery. I felt like no amount of me defending myself made any difference, I knew Kenny wholeheartedly thought I had been unfaithful so I did what I always did—what came easy to me, I kept my thoughts to myself, pretending what he said didn’t bother me.
But over the next few weeks an array of emotions consumed me. Because of my infatuation for Randy I just knew I was to blame for Kenny’s betrayal. I was consumed with guilt for allowing myself to entertain thoughts of an affair even though it had been over a year ago. If only I had been a better wife.
I also felt suspicious every time Kenny was late coming home from work believing he was fooling around on me. Then I would feel guilty for thinking such things. I can’t even explain the hurt I felt that he had chosen to have sex with someone else. It’s one thing to imagine it but to actually know he went out on me made me feel extremely angry towards him. Outwardly I treated him like I always did but inside I was filled with rage and resentment towards him for breaking his marriage vows. I kept everything quiet in my mind and didn’t tell anybody about the things that were going on in my head. I don’t know how I kept it together, taking care of two kids under the age of five and pregnant with a third while knowing my husband had committed adultery.
A few months later while Kenny was getting ready to go to work, I said. “Why do you have to drive an hour away today, my due date is in a week, besides our other two babies were early I’m afraid this one will be too.”
“I can’t help it, the boss told me I have to go to Pueblo today. What am I supposed to do?”
He kissed me goodbye and I fell back to sleep. After I got up I felt some slight pain but dismissed it and began feeding the other kids and then started cleaning up. The pain intensified and I began to feel uncomfortable. I knew I was in labor. Panicking, I called Kenny’s boss. “I’m in labor and I need Kenny to come home to take me to the hospital right away.”
“Okay, I will make sure Kenny gets home. Just in case he runs late what’s the name of the hospital you’ll be at?”
Feeling afraid he wouldn’t make it for the birth, I reluctantly I called my little brother, Rob and asked him to drive me to the hospital. Then I called Monica and asked her to come over and watch my kids.
After being checked into the hospital, I was immediately wheeled into the delivery room with still no sign of my husband. I watched the clock, hoping and praying I wouldn’t have to deliver this baby all by myself. The pains were coming closer together. Moments before the baby was born, Kenny came running into the room. He made it just in time to see our son born.
It was an easy birth and I was home within twenty-four hours. My new baby had fat, rosy cheeks and a contented demeanor. We named him Jeff.
Even though Kristy and Jeff were only eighteen months apart and a lot of work, I found myself enjoying my new little one. While I read a book to Kristy I was able to nurse Jeff. Jeremy helped after school and I found a routine that worked for me.
Because Kenny had been feeling guilty after his affair he had even begun helping me with the kids after Jeff was born. He was coming home at decent hours and he seemed to be less angry. He always acted better when he was wracked with guilt, I would come to realize later.
When Jeff was two months old, Rosa and a couple of her church friends began to meet at my house to say the Rosary and pray to Mary. While Jeremy was in school and Kristy played with her toys, the baby was usually napping, we began saying our Hail Marys’ and the Lord’s Prayer. Because both our fathers had molested us, we were trying hard to believe God was a loving father, who we could trust and who would never hurt us, but we felt safe asking Mary to take our prayers to God, our Heavenly Father.
I continued to watch Sunday services on television and asked Jesus into my heart each week having absolutely no idea what it meant. All I knew was, every time I did, I began to feel peaceful and I liked the feeling.
I started attending Mass with Rosa. Kenny refused to go, but he gave me permission to take the kids. I assumed he wanted the luxury of sleeping in with no one to disturb him.
A couple months later as I was out shopping I ran into one of my cousins whom I rarely saw. “Have you ever heard of Calvary Chapel?” Carl asked.
“No, what is Calvary Chapel?”
“It’s a non-denominational church I’ve been going to and it’s really good. You should go sometime.”
“What does non-denominational mean?”
“It just means following the words of Jesus Christ in the Bible and it is not related to any specific religion.”
Later in the week my brother Rob, who was the first one in our family to attend another church besides the Catholic church, came over to my house. “I started attending Calvary Chapel. It’s downtown, you should go sometime. It’s great. Here, listen to these cassettes.”
Not long after that, my girlfriend called, “My husband and I went to this awesome church called Calvary Chapel. You can even wear jeans. Your husband would probably go with you. You want to go with us some Sunday?”
After three people in a row mentioned Calvary Chapel, I was convinced God had a message for me. Popping the cassette into the machine one afternoon when the kids were napping I listened to Pastor Larry. I loved what he said, along with his sense of humor. The worship music that played was something I had never heard before. I felt a wonderful sense of peace. I began to pray that Kenny would go with me, or at the very least give me permission to go without him.
A few weeks later, Kenny reluctantly agreed to go after a night of drinking and arguing. Was it guilt that motivated him? We walked into the old refurbished courthouse that had been turned into a church and dropped the kids off in their Sunday school classes and nursery. Following the sound of the inspirational music led us to the auditorium where I saw the band playing while the congregation sang. Closing my eyes, I swayed to the music. I had never heard anything more beautiful. It was as if angels themselves were singing.
While my eyes were closed, the pastor who I had been listening to for weeks began to pray. Am I really here? Am I listening to a tape? Is this really Pastor Larry in person?
Timidly, I stood in line afterward to touch the hand of the man whom I had grown to respect through the words he had spoken on the cassette. Kenny stood away from me and watched. For me there was something sacred, almost holy about being near the pastor. I didn’t know it then, but he would eventually help me to understand who Jesus was.
“You’re new. I’m so glad you’re here. I hope you will come back again.” Larry said with a genuine smile as he reached out to hug me.
As soon as we got into the car Kenny started screaming at me. “I don’t think I’ll ever go back to that place again. I didn’t like it. And that preacher was flirting with you. I saw the way you looked at him too.”
I was crushed! How dare he accuse me of wanting to be with a man of God? As tears rolled down my face, I turned and looked out the passenger window. His words only quickened my resolve to detach myself from him. Things really hadn’t changed at all. I added a few more bricks that day to the wall I had begun to build up against him.
27
Finding Faith
“Teach me your ways O Lord, that I may live according to your truth! Grant me purity of heart so that I may honor you. I will give glory to your name forever. For your love for me is very great.” Psalm 86:11-13
I knew my feelings had changed about Jesus after a few more visits to Calvary. I couldn’t wait to share with Rosa. “I understand clearly now what you had tried to tell me so long ago. Jesus is God, and He left the safety of heaven to enter our world and breathe our air and share our pain and walk in our shoes. Jesus Christ knows what it means to be human and to suffer disappointment. That’s why He understands our weaknesses and our prayer needs. He came to earth to sacrifice his life for all of mankind’s sins. He died and rose again so I could get into heaven and have a relationship with God the father. I understand the verse in the Bible: “For God so loved the world he gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life.” John 3:16
Soon I began to realize that being a Christian was about building an intimate relationship with Jesus while religion was man’s idea of being good enough for God. I still didn’t understand everything, but I went forward and accepted Christ as my Savior the following Sunday at my church.
A few weeks later, Rosa shared with me. “I don’t feel like we need to go to Mary to pray anymore. We can go directly to her Son. Why don’t we turn our rosary group into a prayer group?”
“That is a great idea, I was thinking the same thing. I am starting to believe how much Jesus loves me and wants me to get to know him more intimately. In all the years, I attended the Catholic Church I never realized that.”
I decided it was time to stop going to my Alanon meetings. I felt like the group encouraged divorce, and now that I was a Christian I would not allow myself to think that way anymore. Immediately, I promised God I would never again threaten divorce. There were many verses in the Bible that talked about being a submissive wife and I had heard several sermons about the subject. None of them ever mentioned living with an abusive husband, it was all about how the wife should change for her partner. I had come to the conclusion, submission meant that I should never speak up or give an opinion or disagree with my husband, and I mistakenly believed I was inferior to him. This coupled with my unhealthy way of thinking, led me to erroneously assume being submissive meant allowing myself to be walked on and that’s what God preferred. What I didn’t realize at the time was I had been living that way and giving it a name just reinforced what I was already familiar with.
When Kenny came home late just like before I always had his dinner ready but now I decided I wasn’t going to be resentful. Keeping my mouth shut about his drinking and having a better attitude no matter what time he came home was something I tried real hard to accomplish. I made a vow that I would quit feeling suspicious every time he left thinking he was interested in other women. Swallowing my fears and my insecurities, I prayed more and sought Jesus to help me change. I laid aside my own desires and feelings. I wanted to make life perfect for him. (I did not realize I was just stuffing down everything I felt.) I presumed I was doing the right thing and was convinced that this time, things would be different because I was doing what I falsely believed the Bible said. I also thought I was doing what pleased God.
After I had been attending church for a few months with Kenny’s permission, he came home from work pulled me into the other room and demanded, “I don’t want you going to Calvary. You can go back to the Catholic Church. No more Tuesday prayer group, either!”
No amount of arguing convinced him to change his mind so I shut my mouth and obeyed my husband, once again believing I was doing the Lord’s will. Halfheartedly, I went to the Catholic Church the following Sunday. The minute I walked inside, I felt I had lost the freedom to raise my hands to praise God. The music felt uninspiring and the sermon was too brief. I felt empty when I left, but I didn’t complain and went back, week after week. After all I was pleasing God by obeying my husband.
On Tuesday mornings, I’d pray with Rosa on the phone asking for Kenny to allow me to go back to Calvary Chapel and have my friends over again. Of course, at the time I didn’t realize I needed to learn to stand up for myself.
After a few weeks, Kenny motioned to me, “I thought about it, you can go back to that church if you want to and you can have your prayer group come over on Tuesdays.”
Not for one moment did I think he was unreasonable, controlling or manipulative, I just assumed I had done something wrong. Looking heavenward I silently said, thank you, God, and reached out and hugged my husband. I began to believe God would also make Kenny stop drinking. It became my number one prayer. All I had to do was go to churc
h, pray, be the perfect wife, and trust God and surely things would be different.
In my spare time, I started writing short stories about the kids. One day I noticed an ad in the local newspaper; ‘Readers send your stories in about your special Valentine. If we pick your story we will print it on Valentine’s Day’. Feeling inspired, I wrote about Jesus being my Valentine. I was so in love with him. I didn’t tell anyone what I was doing. I completed my story and sent it in the mail.
The morning of Valentine’s Day, I grabbed the paper, flipped through the pages and saw my story in print. I was overjoyed. It was the only one written about Jesus. Kenny had already left for work and I couldn’t wait to tell him the good news after he returned home from his job. My mom, sister, and brothers all called to congratulate me.
That evening Kenny walked in after a long day at work. Holding the newspaper article in his hands he shoved it at me. “What is this? Why did you write down that you are worried about our finances? Now everyone thinks were having money problems. People at work are going to think I’m not capable of supporting you. You make me sick!”
“No, no that’s not what I meant. I only said when I worry about things I go to my secret place, get on my knees, and pray for Jesus to help me. I wasn’t trying to make you look bad.”
“Get out, go to your mom’s I don’t want you here.”
Reluctantly, I loaded the kids in the car and calmly walked in my mom’s house, praying all the way there. God, you inspired me to write this story and I believe with all my heart you will help Kenny to change his mind and let me come home.
Less than an hour had passed when the phone rang. “I’m sorry I said those things. You can come home now.”
Somehow, I wasn’t surprised. I knew God would work everything out. I wrote several stories about my children over the next few months and they were all printed in the newspaper. I was finally feeling like I could become a writer. Kenny even bought me an electric typewriter that Christmas. Not only was writing a hobby of mine, but it was perfect for a stay-at-home mom, and hopefully a way to earn extra money. After the kids were tucked in bed, I pulled out my typewriter and pounded the keys. I began to fantasize about becoming a famous writer, signing autographs, having a best seller, and making lots of money. Of course, I kept all my pages hidden away as I was still afraid Kenny would read what I had written down. I couldn’t handle any of his rejection or criticisms I also enjoyed writing a journal and I kept it hidden away, too.
Something About Those Eyes Page 19