Though I'm a king, I'm a king on my knees

Thanks for your thoughts on my Inquirer and your own experiences. The most helpful thing for me was "if you can say and believe the Creed, you're all good." At least at the start, right? I recently friended my Inquirer on Facebook (I NEVER FRIEND ANYONE) (though I accept friend requests! Am not total heathen!) just to stay in contact. I think I'm going to offer to be an "extra" sponsor or something... just another someone to talk to, at least. Or just make the Inquirer aware that I'd love to stay in the process. If that's not too obnoxious. 

And while my Inquirer is figuring out what it means to be a bad Catholic, I feel like I already know. I'm just not in The Place right now, you know? I am currently worshipping at the altar of Pinterest and Spray Paint. I'm throwing a party this weekend and when a party is on my calendar I pretty much exclude every other priority. I'm AWARE of this, at least, and as I'm decorating my house I'm finding I'm putting up a lot more "religious stuff" than I have in the past. I've always had my Polish pottery cross hanging somewhere, but I finally put up my picture of Eve and Mary, and without really thinking I stuck a little laminated card of Mary and the baby Jesus in the kitchen windowsill crack. I look at it every time I wash dishes. I'm not gonna be, you know, sticking up vinyl Bible verses or anything, but I think it's good to have little reminders of the Actual Priority when I'm just going about my house business.

In other news I'm still processing a recent argument with Phillip. There's always the reason for the argument, and then the REAL reason you're fighting. The worst is when you realize that the Real reason is one of your Fatal Flaws, or just one of the ways that you are inherently broken inside. 

Like one of my possibly-never-to-be-healed breaks (and, I'd imagine, the same break a lot of women have) is this dark abiding fear that one day my husband will decide I am too much. I am too hard, too much work, too crazy, too everything. That his life would be so much easier without me in it. That I make everything more difficult, more stressful. 

This fear was especially front and center when I was dealing with anxiety on a daily basis. I really had no idea how hard it was for Phillip (though he will never ever convince me that it was harder on him that it was on me!) I still don't know. And there were times I rationed my heart... like I just wouldn't tell him what was going on because THAT would be the crazy that would destroy everything, and he'd leave and go find himself a nice mentally-balanced girl who likes to sleep in in the mornings. 

Reading up on the enneagram (SORRY, that again!) was actually really helpful. Turns out my husband is the type that REALLY hates having to Deal with things, especially wives who don't know how to relax, who go go go on a Saturday morning, who like to do work intensive things like constantly invite guests over to eat. And it's not that he doesn't enjoy projects or company, he just... does them at his own speed. But another thing about his type is a happy willingness to go along with whatever someone else wants to do (me) and then not realizing until later how it made him tired or prevented him from doing something else. 

I, obviously, am not sympathetic. I do not work that way. I do not understand it. I get really super duper angry when it's implied that I "made" him do something when I most certainly did NOT. 

But that's not the real reason I'm angry. I'm angry because I'm scared, and I'm scared that once again, I have been Too Much. 

Because it makes sense to me, you know? I AM too much. I am the one who's always enthusiastic about more babies. I'm the one who thinks the entire kitchen should be spotless by the time guests arrive. I'm the one who has the spray paint obsession. I'm the one who thinks up the vacations and plans the social engagements and insists on yard work. I'm the light sleeper. I am on freaking MEDICATION! When will he decide enough is enough? 

It's not a REAL fear. I mean, I am not sitting here biting my nails wondering if Phillip will come home tonight. But it IS one of those dark icky deep-inside fears where you keep your "am I good enough?" and "am I worthy?" and "am I loved?" thoughts. It's not just me who has those, right?

But I am not too much for God. I am telling myself this fact over and over today. I am not too much for God. I am not too much for God.

Comments

[Mark]

If we were perfect, why would we need God? It is BECAUSE of my imperfection that God loves me. In fact, don't we love others (including our spouses), in part, similarly - that we are the person that "gets" them, that we are the one, blessed by God, that knows exactly what to do for them - ? That we can relate to each other and support through our imperfections? I know I don't want to be married to someone who's perfect! I also keep thinking of a quote as I write this...it goes something like, "There's a crack in everything / that's how the light gets in." I like being imperfect, cracked, and able to accept (read: desiring) God's love for me.

[Katie]

Yuck. Fighting with Matt is The Worst. And of course I swear it's 100 times worse since I'm the control freak who wants things tidy and organized, yet complains about having to constantly pick up after everyone. While he's working his tail off to not just pay for our food and clothes and mortgage, but now we are right in the midst of a $35,000 Landscaping project. Matt is taking off this morning to paint a friend's house and won't be back for 3 days. Three days in which I will be doing a lot of praying since I was the one who ruined our date night by asking why he's been such a grump.
Maggie, you are not alone. Marriage is strenuous, hard work.

[The Sojourner]

Your religion blog totally blows me away almost every time you post. Just so you know. And I read a lot of religious blogs.

No, you're not the only one.

And, to reiterate, I think the last line of your post changed my life or something equally dramatic.

[jessica]

I love the title song, btw. :-)

[Bethany]

I know what you mean, except my husband is the energetic, clean one. My secret fear is that one day he'll decide I'm just not enough. It's stressful. I try not to think about it.