I thought that I was going to BE that kind of woman. I prayed. Read my Bible. I trusted my family to God Himself. I asked to be a good wife. I prayed by my kids beds at night when they were asleep. I prayed for their friends. Their lives. I worked at being what my husband wanted and needed. I aspired to make my marriage good, strong and whole. I grew in faith. I trusted God for His provision. But, I did these things alone. And I can't be that kind of woman who is at church now...teaching the youngers how to do it "right"...because I've failed. I look at those women. I thought with every bit of who I was that that was the direction that I was headed. But I was heading there alone. My husband didn't participate. He engaged when he was afraid he was missing out, losing out or.......if sex was an option. And so, though I did what those women do, I failed.
It's kind of like this: my first son was low maintenance. So easy to raise it was amazing. He made us look like great parents. I could have written a book. Along came numbers two, three, four and five. Reality check. It takes two to make a parent "LOOK" good. I was the same parent. Maybe even better by then. However my future children were not the compliant little angels when they were babes. They had...opinions. So, onlookers would not have been too impressed by my skills. Though they were still good.
Same with marriages I'm learning. Those women aren't successful just because of them...they are successful also because of their husband. A man who is involved in making her into her best self.
So...yes...I failed. But not for lack of abilities nor trying nor caring. I failed because one can't build a union. But.....I'm a little bummed that he took away my chance to sit at "that" table with "those" women. To be asked to speak. To be looked to for wisdom. Because, frankly....this failure is going to define me to many others. I must not let it define me to myself. It certainly doesn't define me to God.
grace to you
It's kind of like this: my first son was low maintenance. So easy to raise it was amazing. He made us look like great parents. I could have written a book. Along came numbers two, three, four and five. Reality check. It takes two to make a parent "LOOK" good. I was the same parent. Maybe even better by then. However my future children were not the compliant little angels when they were babes. They had...opinions. So, onlookers would not have been too impressed by my skills. Though they were still good.
Same with marriages I'm learning. Those women aren't successful just because of them...they are successful also because of their husband. A man who is involved in making her into her best self.
So...yes...I failed. But not for lack of abilities nor trying nor caring. I failed because one can't build a union. But.....I'm a little bummed that he took away my chance to sit at "that" table with "those" women. To be asked to speak. To be looked to for wisdom. Because, frankly....this failure is going to define me to many others. I must not let it define me to myself. It certainly doesn't define me to God.
grace to you
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