When The Odds Are Against Us

True Stories of Couples Who Saved Their Marriages

Steve Wilke

Dave & Neta Jackson

New Leaf Press

First printing: April 1995

Copyright © 1994 by New Leaf Press. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations in articles and reviews. For information write: New Leaf Press, Inc., P.O. Box 311, Green Forest, AR 72638.

ISBN: 0-89221-286-1

Library of Congress Catalog: 94-69841

While the stories in this book are true, the names and other identifiable details of the characters have been changed.

Unless otherwise noted, all Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version. Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984, International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Bible Publishers.

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Contents

Introduction

1. The Parent Trap

2. When Opposites Attract

3. Just Like Your Mom

4. Conquering Constant Conflict

5. What Is Recovery of Hope?

Introduction

We rarely fought in my home. Oh, there were the typical sibling squabbles (mostly teasing), and there’s the infamous story about five-year-old me (Neta) throwing a tantrum on the Boston subway. But I never saw my parents exchange harsh words (my father tended to govern the household with a firm but loving hand; my mother was easygoing and compliant). No one actually said this in so many words, but somehow I got the message, “A good Christian doesn’t get angry.”

Therefore my friend’s family next door was an enigma to me. The three teenagers were always raising holy hell — shouting, calling their parents names, banging the walls. (And they’d been missionaries in South America, no less!) I felt uncomfortable when these rows started and usually beat a hasty retreat. What mystified me the most was that in between fights, this family really seemed to love each other. They fought hard; they loved hard.

I didn’t know how to do that. When I grew up and married Dave, I had no idea how to handle my negative feelings. So mostly I denied that I had any. When I got frustrated at my husband, I pushed the feelings down and talked myself out of them. (Oh, it’s just a little thing; I don’t want to make an issue out of it.) If the irritation didn’t go away, then I blamed him for “making me” mad. (He should know I want help with dinner after coming home from work; why should I have to ask him?)

Unfortunately, I wasn’t very good at denying, pushing down, or silently blaming. Some little incident would spark the whole simmering mess, and I would explode with hurricane force. Dave would be in shock: “Where did that come from? Why didn’t you say anything before? When you get mad, you dump all over me!” Usually when I exploded, Dave retreated, making me even more frustrated. And then I felt terrible about myself. So I’d go and apologize — but feel irritated that I was the one who ended up saying “I’m sorry” (after all, he was the one who “made me mad” in the first place).

It was a hopeless cycle. It didn’t occur to me to ask for help; after all, we had a great marriage (most of the time). But no one told me that arguments were a normal part of marriage; no one told me how to fight fair. I kept pretending we lived in perfect harmony, then picking up the pieces when it fell apart.

It took over 10 years of married life — and the wisdom of an older (single!) woman counselor — to learn a few important basics, such as communicating my expectations, having realistic expectations, accepting that I sometimes get angry and taking responsibility for my own feelings, not expecting perfection from my spouse (or myself!) and learning how to forgive. And now that we’ve celebrated our silver wedding anniversary, I can honestly say that prescription has helped us develop a much healthier and happier marriage.

As you read the true stories in this book, you’ll see how other couples grappled with these and similar principles. Some couples fought so much they thought divorce was their only option. Learning new ways to deal with their conflicts depended on a critical factor: hope.

Each couple has participated in Recovery of Hope, a program sponsored by a network of counseling centers around the country. Every day, marital conflicts are resolved, hurts healed, brokenness made whole, but most people do not hear about these successes. And because they do not hear the accounts of restored marriages, they have no hope when their own marriage gets in trouble. The Recovery of Hope Network has helped hundreds of couples recover hope in their marriage primarily by giving them an opportunity to hear other couples, who have been through the worst, tell their stories of reconciliation. The message is clear: with help, marriages can be restored.

Throughout the book and especially in the fourth chapter, Dr. Steve Wilke provides insights into why constant conflict can wear out a marriage and how positive conflict management can help rebuild your relationship. Dr. Wilke is a licensed clinical psychologist and former president of Recovery of Hope Network, Inc.

Dave and Neta Jackson

Chapter One

The Parent Trap

Dora Blari squinted her eyes against the bright California sun and glanced around the yard for Randy. She wished her husband wouldn't disappear at these family get-togethers - she felt so alone and vulnerable.

Even holding little Judi would help, but the toddler was somewhere in the house entertaining her great-grandmother. Not knowing what to do with herself, Dora just stood hesitantly on the sidewalk.

She always felt uneasy visiting Randy’s mother, to say the least. His divorced parents not only weren’t on speaking terms, but were downright hostile toward each other. To make it even more awkward, Randy and Dora and their baby, Judi, had recently moved in with his dad, who was helping Randy get through school. But . . . they could hardly avoid this visit when Randy’s mother and stepfather and sister’s family had all descended on his grandmother’s house, just 30 miles away from Dad Blair’s house.

Randy’s mother and sister walked across the yard toward her. Both were tall and willowy, and Dora always felt short and “sturdy” around them. She took a deep breath, fighting the tension which coiled around her body, and forced a smile.

“We’re so glad you could come, Dora dear,” her mother-in-law cooed. “I was just telling Susan that you kids are living with the old man for awhile. So! The S.O.B. has finally decided to help Randy get through school. It’s about time — he has a lot of missed child support payments to make up for.” Randy’s mother laughed harshly.

“Even a rat can have a guilty conscience, I suppose,” agreed Randy’s older sister. “A little late for me. Take advantage of it, Dora — he owes it to Randy.”

“Not that I trust his motives,” said Randy’s mother, confidingly. “He’s only doing it to get back at me, Dora.”

Suddenly the coil of tension inside Dora seemed to snap. “How dare you!” she exploded. “Every time we get together, you bitch, bitch, bitch about Randy’s father. Well, I’ve had it! Dad Blair is helping us get on our feet, we’re getting along perfectly well under his roof, and I don’t have to listen to you shoot him down.”

Even Dora was shocked by her outburst — but there was no going back now. Angrier than she’d ever been in her life, she headed blindly for the house, leaving Randy’s mother and sister with their mouths gaping. Judi . . . where was Judi? She had to find her toddler and get out of here.

Striding into the living room, she snatched Judi from the floor where she was playing with some big plastic beads. Startled, the toddler began to cry.

“Dora!” cried Randy’s grandmother. “You’re frightening the baby. What’s the matter, for heaven’s sake?”

“This house, this family — that’s what’s the matter!” snapped Dora. “And you’re just as bad as the rest of them!” Even as she said the words Dora realized she was losing control. Clutching Judi on her hip, she grabbed up her purse and jacket. Judi was screaming.

“Randy! Where’s Randy!” called the elderly woman, struggling to get up off the couch. “Somebody take the baby from Dora — she’s frightening her.”

Suddenly Dora panicked. She dashed out the front door with Judi, letting the screen slam behind her. The car . . . she had to get inside the car. She was vaguely aware that her mother-in-law reached out and grabbed at her, but she pulled away. Their little compact was parked in the driveway. She jerked open the door and slid Judi across the seat, then hopped in, locked both doors, put her head down on the steering wheel and burst into tears.

Randy’s mother pounded on the window. “Dora Blair, you’re acting like a crazy woman. Open up the door right this minute and give me that baby,” the woman demanded. Dora squeezed her eyes shut, her shoulders shaking with sobs.

Then she heard Randy’s voice. “What’s going on? What’s happening here?” Relief flooded through her at the sight of her tall, lanky husband . . . then, suddenly, her relief turned to a chilling fear. Randy would be so angry! She had yelled at his mother; she was causing a scene. Randy always tried to keep the peace; Randy would have kept his mouth shut when his mother badmouthed his father. But suddenly this fact — that Randy refused to stand up for his father — made her anger boil once again.

“Take me home, Randy!” she screamed at him through the window. “Take me home! I don’t want to stay here one more minute!”

She heard the other relatives arguing outside the car and caught snatches of words: “. . . she’s hysterical . . . hurt the baby . . . crazy woman.” But only Randy’s voice registered. “Open the door, Dora!”

“I won’t open the door unless you promise to take me home.”

“All right. We’ll go home. Just open the door.”

Dora lifted the lock, picked the bawling Judi off the seat and slid over. The car door opened and Randy squeezed behind the wheel.

Her young husband said nothing, just started the car and headed for home. Dora quieted the little girl and held her until she fell asleep, still hiccupping. The silence was deafening. She was almost relieved when Randy finally hit the steering wheel with his fist. “Damn you, Dora! What was that all about! That’s my family, for God’s sake.”

“Your father is your family, too, don’t forget! How can you stand back and let your mother and sister talk that way about him? Well, I can’t take it any more. And . . . I just lost it.”

“That’s an understatement,” Randy muttered. His eyes were narrow and hard. They drove in silence for a few more minutes, then Randy said, “We’re going to move out. Staying with Dad is causing too many problems. We’ll find something else, some other way to finish school.”

“Randy Blair, don’t be a fool! Staying with Dad isn’t the problem. Letting your mother walk all over him is the problem. Just tell her to shut up! You have a right to love your dad. But she’s making you choose between them!”

“No, you’re making me choose between them. Everything was fine until you self-righteously had to tell off my mother. I don’t rock the boat with your family. I let the petty irritations slide off my back; I don’t go around pointing out their faults. Is it asking too much to keep your mouth shut when we visit my mom?”

Dora felt like she’d just been slapped. Her fault? How could that be? None of this would have happened if his mother didn’t keep tearing down his dad. There was a principle here. Somebody had to stand up for what was right. She couldn’t be a bystander any longer, watching Randy being pulled apart between his parents.

“You don’t love me!” she accused him bitterly. “You don’t care about me or . . . or Judi . . . or what’s best for our family. All you care about is keeping your mother happy — it doesn’t matter who gets run over in the process.”

Randy didn’t respond. As they pulled into the driveway of Dad Blair’s house awhile later, Dora was relieved: no car. Randy’s dad and stepmother weren’t home. Good; they needed time to talk. She followed Randy into the house carrying the sleeping Judi. But Randy was jerking open dresser drawers and putting clothes into plastic bags.

“What are you doing?” she asked, suddenly frightened.

“I told you. I’m leaving. Are you coming with me or not?”

“Leaving! We can’t just leave. What about your job? And school?” Dora’s mind whirled. No, she didn’t want to stay here forever, but it was a way for Randy to finish college. They’d been married four years, and this was the first real break they’d had. She had a good job, and his stepmother was taking care of Judi during the day. But Randy just kept packing.

“If you leave, Randy Blair, you’re letting your mother control our life!”

“I’m leaving, Dora — with or without you. Which is it?”

The panic returned. Dora just stared at her husband, still holding their sleeping toddler. Their eyes met. Then Randy turned and headed back out to the car.

Dora laid Judi down on the bed and ran to the door. “Randy! Please don’t go! Don’t leave!”

In disbelief, Dora watched him heave the bags of clothes into the trunk and climb into the driver’s seat.

• • •

As Randy Blair drove away from his father’s house, Dora’s words kept pounding in his brain: “You don’t love me!” How could she say such a thing! He had never experienced pain like he felt when she said those words. He had felt suddenly nauseated, as though he had been struck in the stomach. Now, driving away from his wife and child, he felt weak and his hands shook.

The truth was, he thought to himself, it was Dora who didn’t care about him any more. She was the one who had caused all the trouble, after all. Didn’t she think of what she was doing to him? Or was she deliberately trying to destroy his relationship with his mom? God knows he’d tried to make the best of a bad situation with his parents. Couldn’t she see that? How could he ever face his mother again? No, Dora had ruined everything. Just lit the fuse and blew their lives apart. . . .

Randy didn’t know where he was driving. He didn’t really have anywhere to go. All he knew was that his life was crumbling in pieces around him, and he had to get away. Go, go, go!

One of the most difficult tasks in marriage is establishing loyalty within the extended family. This is challenging even in families where everyone gets along with each other. Both the husband and wife must shift loyalties from parents to spouse, and at the same time embrace new loyalties with in-laws.

If family members are comfortable with each other, then the new couple is given time to develop their own bond and at the same time develop relationships throughout both families to assure mutual support.

However, when relationships are conflictual, sides are drawn and loyalties are quickly put to the test. For Dora, the opportunity to gradually build her own relationship with her mother-in-law and father-in-law is denied. Unresolved conflict festers under every interaction. To be loyal to one is to automatically be disloyal to the other. These are intolerable emotional traps.

Neither Randy nor Dora like the unresolved conflict between Randy’s divorced parents. Neither like what it’s doing to their own marriage.

Each of us responds differently when pushed into an emotional corner. Lashing out, clamming up, escaping, and confronting are a few. Most of our responses fall into two large categories: fight or flight.

Like so many marriages, we marry someone with different styles of response. In this case, Dora took the “I can’t take it anymore, something has got to change, I’m ready to fight” approach. Randy took the “avoid, minimize, try to ride it out” approach.

In their conflict over style, they lose sight of their common hope — that they can be loyal to both mother and father without recrimination.

To make matters worse, both confuse their different perspectives on how to deal with the problem as disloyalty to each other. This lack of understanding led to the mistaken belief that the genuine love they had for each other must therefore be gone.

When Randy and Dora first married, they had no idea what kind of problems they would encounter, since both were from divorced homes. Randy, who sports a trim brown moustache and wire rim glasses, realizes now that, “One of my basic traits is that I’m a pleaser. I try to please people, to keep everybody happy. Without even realizing it, I was trying to please both of my divorced parents. This caused a lot of trouble because I kept my feelings for my dad bottled up to keep my mom happy.”

Dora, on the other hand, never saw her father again after her mother left him when she was eight years old; she never had to choose one parent over the other. “She didn’t understand my dilemma and what I was trying to deal with,” says Randy. “However, she saw the turmoil within me and she reacted negatively toward my mom — which put pressure on me because I just wasn’t prepared to rock the boat.”

Randy defended his mom’s actions, trying to make Dora understand, but Dora usually defended his dad. “I thought it was great that he had a dad!” says Dora. “I thought he should do all he could to cultivate the relationship.” They ended up choosing sides against Randy’s parents.

Actually, Randy loved both his mom and dad. “But I wasn’t to blame for their past problems,” he says. “Why couldn’t I love them both and be impartial?” But obviously it wasn’t working and was creating tension in his own marriage.

“I felt like a total failure,” Randy says of those early years. “I judged myself severely, feeling that I wasn’t a real man because I wasn’t able to stand up to anyone without causing a problem.” But he blamed Dora for all the confusion. “Why can’t Dora like my mom?” he stewed after some of their arguments. “She comes with the package: love me, love my mom!” He knew Dora didn’t feel accepted by his mom, but he didn’t think that had anything to do with him. If Dora would only get along with his mom, everything would be okay.

But now this . . . a horrendous fight between his wife and his mother. Randy felt crushed between the two women he cared about most.

“I’ll never forget that awful feeling of helplessness as I drove away,” he recalls. “It was like the time I almost drowned as a child, caught in a dark, churning, angry ocean, with no way to come in out of the cold to get warm.”

Left behind at her father-in-law’s house, Dora felt total despair. She was stunned that Randy had packed and left — “left school, the job, the baby, and me.” Dora wanted desperately for Randy to listen to her, to see that his mother was manipulating their lives; she wanted him to do what was best for them and their family, not give in to his mother.

“But he didn’t hear me,” she says. “I had failed to penetrate his wall. Watching him drive away I felt like such a loser. I had lost the most important person in my life. His mother had won. I could have given in, but I thought to compromise would mean letting her rule our lives forever.”

How do you handle difficult situations? All of us grow up devising responses to problems. We customize our strategies, taking into account a multitude of life experiences. We assess our strengths and weaknesses, the obstacles to overcome, and the outcomes. Learning by trial and error from the cradle to the wedding day, both spouses usually have strong opinions about how to manage life’s challenges.

Love makes us want to help. Caring about our spouse and our marriage gets our mental wheels turning when we confront problems. But instead of turning that energy into listening and learning, too often it goes into blaming (this is the cause of the problem) and demanding (this is how to fix it). We don’t really know why our spouse acts as he or she does; we only know how we want them to be.

Randy gave up Dora’s strategy years ago, but Dora doesn’t know why. They’ve lost track of their common goal: for everybody in the family to get along with each other. They give each other advice; they take sides. Now the conflict between Randy’s divorced parents has been transposed onto Randy and Dora’s relationship.

Like two friends cheering for opposing sport teams, each one defends their own team and is critical of the other’s team. If the friends start fighting over which team is better, they risk hurting their relationship. Only the teams, by playing the game, can judge “who’s better.” Only the people in conflict can work it out.

Whenever struggles surface, when our spouse’s suggestions don’t make sense, when our “good” suggestions are not heeded . . . it’s time to stop, listen, talk, and learn. Dora and Randy are only communicating how they want the other person to be. Distant and hurt, both are lonely and feel betrayed.

It didn’t take long for Dora to realize, however, that not compromising was also a dead end for her marriage. She wanted Randy back, so she moved out of his dad’s house into a tiny apartment. Randy had moved out of town, but he called and came to see her and the baby several times.

Randy spent two of the most lonely months of his life wondering, Does Dora still love me? Is my baby all right? He was devastated to think that he, too, had a broken marriage — something he had promised himself (and Dora) would never happen to them! “I had so many questions and doubts,” he says about the separation. “I was restless; my thoughts were in turmoil. Dora had pleaded with me to stay, but after all that had happened I couldn’t believe she really loved me.”

Although Randy didn’t want to take any drastic steps at that point, he thought about divorce. “That’s how helpless I felt to change things,” he says. “But I also knew that I loved Dora and my baby. More than anything, I just wanted my little family back.”

After two months Randy called Dora and asked her to give their marriage another try. Would she come?

Dora finally agreed. “What a risk to take!” the attractive brunette says. “But I quit my job, packed my things, and took a bus to be with him.”

When Dora arrived, however, the sweet reunion was short-lived. They put Judi down for a nap, then sat in the living room of Randy’s apartment to talk.

“I think everything will settle down with my family if you’ll just apologize to my mom and sister for creating a scene the last time we were at grandmother’s house,” her husband said seriously.

Dora stared incredulously. “Apologize? What in the world do you mean?”

“Well, if you hadn’t said anything to my mom in the first place, we wouldn’t be in this mess,” he accused.

“If I . . . !” Instantly all the old anger boiled inside Dora. “You got it wrong, mister. If you’d listen to me for once, you’d realize your mom has got you dancing like a puppet on a string.”

“Dora, I can’t change my mom . . . she was really hurt by the divorce. She —”

“Why are you sticking up for her? Why don’t you stick up for me? I was defending your father, for heaven’s sake!”

“Defending my dad? You threw a tantrum is what you did.”

“Okay, fine. I threw a tantrum. But you can forget an apology. I won’t do it!”

“I thought you were ready to try to make things work.”

“I do want things to work. But you’re going to have to decide who comes first — your mom, or me!”

Within hours of arriving at Randy’s apartment, Dora was back on a bus with little Judi, heading for Reno where her parents lived. Heartsick, she watched the glittering lights as the bus drove down Reno’s main boulevard. Reno: Divorce City. She realized in despair that she and Randy were closer to divorce than just being in Reno.

“But I didn’t want a divorce!” Dora says. “I loved Randy very much and really did want to work things out.”

Randy was scared when Dora left for Reno. Swallowing his pride he picked up the phone and called her at her parents’ house. “If you’ll accept my feelings,” he told her, “I’ll try to understand and accept yours. And we won’t see either of my parents until we can work things out.”

Dora agreed. But by this time she was feeling like a yo-yo. “I was an emotional wreck, wondering when and how this mess would come to an end. But . . . at least Randy didn’t ask me to apologize.”

Randy felt some hope as he drove to Reno to pick up his family. “This time I made a firm vow that nothing was going to come between us again,” he says. “I never wanted to feel as alone as I’d been feeling those two months without my wife and daughter.”

Back together again, Randy and Dora tried to focus on each other more. They went hunting and fishing together and took picnics to the mountains near peaceful lakes and streams. They didn’t see Randy’s parents as often, and when they did, they learned to keep peace by carefully choosing words. In time the situation seemed to ease — on the surface.

Our first response to pain is usually denial: “This can’t be happening!” When we stop long enough to ask, “What’s causing this?” we become even more aware of the pain. This seems to confirm that acknowledging a problem causes the pain.

When a doctor presses on an inflamed appendix during an exam, the patient’s first reaction is to blame the doctor’s touch. But the cause of the problem is the infection.

Thinking about or discussing a past grief doesn’t cause the original hurt. One of the difficulties in marriage is that whoever brings up a painful subject runs the risk of being blamed for causing the problem. This is one reason why a marital counselor can be helpful.

But because Randy and Dora can’t get a productive discussion going, they do the next best thing. Active warfare needs a truce. Before healing can start, the fighting must stop. Some pleasant times help remind us that the challenges of reconciliation are worth going through. Not dealing with conflict helps us catch our breath, but it doesn’t make conflicts go away. A clean bandage over a dirty wound won’t bring about healing.

Unfortunately, beginning over in a new town, Randy and Dora didn’t have anyone to help them deal with their problems. They had no one to talk to: no counselors, pastors, or friends to advise them or pray for them. They felt very much alone.

“We didn’t know what else to do, so we put our problem in the closet, locked the door, and threw away the key,” Dora says. “And even though we continued to be married, we had tremendous conflicts — especially with the in-laws — for many years. But neither of us wanted to risk separating again, so we went along pretending everything was okay.”

Six months after the separation, Dora got pregnant. Soon they had three children — a girl and two boys — each two years apart. Both Randy and Dora enjoyed being parents and wanted very much to keep their family together.

“I was determined to make our marriage work by sheer willpower,” Dora says. “But I still harbored bitterness, because I judged that I had compromised for the Number Two spot in Randy’s life. I lived in fear that his mom could destroy what little I did have. I was so unsure of Randy’s love for me that I was always defensive and on guard. More than anything else, I wanted to feel like I was Number One in Randy’s life and that he would defend and protect me even if I was wrong.”

A contributing factor in the Blair’s problems was that Randy did not know how to express the feelings he had for his dad. “I was so used to pleasing my mom,” Randy admits, “that I didn’t know how to handle the ‘squeeze’ I was getting from three different directions. I avoided my dad for many years to keep my mom happy. And even though Dad had offered to help me get through school, the ‘Big Fight’ with Dora and our separation made my dad feel he was contributing to our marital problems.”

But something had to give. At one point Randy worked up the courage to talk to his dad about the situation. “We agreed that mom wouldn’t be mentioned in any negative way when we were with him. But even though Dad kept his promise to me, trips to his house caused conflict when my mom found out. And Dora always compared how she was treated at my dad’s versus my mom’s.” Randy shakes his head, reliving the tension. “We tried to keep mom from finding out about our visits to dad’s house, so we were always on edge. I just couldn’t relax and be myself.”

The holidays were the worst because Randy and Dora spent all the major holidays with his mom to keep her happy and quiet. They spent the “day after” all the holidays with his dad. But Dora was unhappy trying to live a double life for Randy’s sake. As for Randy, he admits, “I just couldn’t make a decision to take the same risk with my mom that I had with my dad and tell her to quit making remarks about him in front of us.”

The situation continued to frustrate Dora. “I just couldn’t understand why Randy didn’t see what his mother was doing to our family! I blamed him for not being able to see the problem and for not loving me as I thought he should love me. Every time ‘Mom’ was mentioned or I had to be around her, I felt hurt, angry, and bitter. Her interference in our lives put a wedge between me and Randy, and left me feeling so alone. Sometimes I felt like I was stranded on an iceberg, with Randy and his mother going by on a big ocean liner — so near and yet so far away.”

Unsure how to resolve conflicts, Dora and Randy stay within safe, agreed-upon topics and activities as best they can. But unresolved issues have a way of surfacing. Randy’s mom doesn’t take the pressure off; the problems don’t go away.

Each spouse in a marriage has biases, opinions, loyalties, and desires. Some are mild and flexible, others strong and firm. If marriage partners equate having things go their way with being happily married, their frustration will surely grow. If they equate “being the same” with “being in love,” their love will surely die.

While Randy and Dora are “keeping it together,” they are stuck. The conflict goes unresolved. The walls protecting them from fights also shut out the opportunity to grow in intimacy and trust. Both maintain a false premise that everything would be all right if the other one would change: “If only HE would. . . .” “If only SHE would. . . .” It’s a common trap; all married couples know this tendency.

The marriage is eroding from within, even if it is hanging together on the outside. With the walls up, they are protected from being vulnerable. But it is the exchange of inner thoughts and feelings upon which love can grow. It is no surprise that during this time Randy and Dora would feel their love was dying.

The problems of keeping peace in the family at any price smoldered in the Blair’s marriage for 10 years. The children — Judi, Brent, and Sean — were growing fast and brought a lot of activity and delight to the household. But underneath Randy was confused. The harder he tried to juggle the relationships with his mom, dad, and Dora, the more the problems seemed to multiply. “I always felt like I was walking on the dark side of the street where the sun never shines,” he says.

He felt some hope when Dora did try to keep peace with his mom when he asked her to. “But I finally realized that Dora wasn’t going to change,” he admits. “If things were going to be different, I knew I would have to make some changes in myself.”

Easier said than done. “I didn’t know why the choices had to be so difficult! I felt like I was being forced to choose between my wife and my mother. If I chose Dora, I risked losing face with part of my family. On the other hand, I was afraid of losing Dora. I had such a tremendous sense of loss all the time we had been separated and I never wanted to experience it again.”

During those 10 years of struggle after the separation, Dora didn’t see any hope for healing all the hurts and disappointments of their past. She finally wrote Randy a letter urging him to go with her to a Marriage Encounter Weekend. “Randy,” she confessed in the letter, “I feel so alone, even when I’m with you. The one thing I need, more than anything else in the world, is to feel that I am the most important person in the world to you.”

At first Randy resisted. “I wore out the seat of my pants and the heels of my boots,” he laughs, “because she had to drag me to this Marriage Encounter thing! But . . . I did finally consent to go.”

Even though he went with Dora, Randy was reluctant to participate fully in the weekend. “However, by Sunday,” Dora smiles, her thick straight hair now a cap of curls framing her twinkling eyes, “a miracle of God’s grace made both of us realize we needed to make some changes.”

In many ways, the Marriage Encounter helped Randy and Dora turn a corner. “The most important thing that happened that weekend,” Randy says, “was learning communication tools to help us openly discuss our problems — in love, without condemning, blaming, or judging each other’s feelings.”

“It took another five years of practicing a communication process called ‘dialogue’ to help heal some of the hurts,” Dora says. Before, they had been fighting defensively, each one trying to protect himself or herself from getting hurt — and hurting the other in the process. “Now,” she continues, “both of us had to be willing to risk being open and honest about what we thought and felt, and at the same time show kindness and sensitivity to each other.”

Another important factor for the Blairs was getting to know other couples at Marriage Encounter who were willing to share their lives and struggles. “When they risked being vulnerable with us, it gave us courage to be vulnerable with each other,” says Dora. “Several of these couples have become friends who continue to encourage us when we are struggling.”

When we look away from others and focus on ourselves, hope for change begins. We want to look out the window when we need to look into the mirror. Being “right” or “better” isn’t the point. Changing our spouse is not our business, but changing ourselves is in our control. When both partners take responsibility for themselves, with God’s grace we can build a new way of relating.

Dialoguing, like many communication techniques, helps slow the process down. The point is to develop clarity in giving and receiving. Couples start dialoguing by writing down their thoughts and feelings in letter form. Ten minutes are then set aside for one spouse to read his or her letter and explain the feelings. The focus is on understanding, not problem solving. After 10 minutes, the spouses switch roles, one explaining and the other understanding.

For couples like Dora and Randy, pushing through the fear that if they talk a fight will break out, is a start. Focusing on understanding rather than “fixing” the problem helps bridge the chasm between them. Clarifying their thoughts, speaking uninterrupted, listening undefensively, sharing without blaming, trying to understand, exploring their own contributions to the conflict and seeing how they can change are all steps along the path to understanding and intimacy.

Good communication is not the only way to strengthen a marriage. Relating to other couples who are open to share the joys and struggles of marriage offers insight into the common challenges of being married. A network of friends who are couples also helps, especially when a place away from family loyalties is needed.

Learning to share his inner feelings was extremely difficult for Randy. “But I finally realized that Dora is very interested in how I feel about the things that happen to us. When I share my feelings, she is more likely to understand and accept how I feel, rather than judge or criticize me.”

Randy and Dora began to realize that they didn’t hurt each other as much when they tried to experience what the other person was feeling. Talking quite freely now about that whole mysterious topic, Randy says, “Sharing my feelings helps heal the hurts, because I am reaching out in love to my wife — and vice versa. Healing is an ongoing process for us, but a thorough one, because we now know from personal experience that when God heals our damaged emotions, we really are healed.”

As he allowed his hurts and feelings to surface, they brought tears. “Many men are raised with the attitude, ‘Real men don’t cry,’ and I’m no different,” he admits. “But I’ve found that it takes a great deal of courage and a lot of strength to cry. I’m not a moaning, groaning crybaby, but letting my emotions out in this way has actually been healing for both of us. Of course, I feel very vulnerable when I cry because I wonder, What will people think of me?”

Randy’s willingness to cry has been encouraging to Dora. “When Randy’s eyes begin to water, I feel I am sharing something very deep and special with him that I would miss otherwise.

For Randy, it took several years and a lot of tears to begin to heal the hurts of the past and to let go of the guilt he carried for leaving Dora and the baby. “We began attending church together,” he says, “which brought some peace and unity to our life. We now have a church family and close friends to help us. We focus our lives around God, rather than trying to do it all on our own.”

Praying is another thing the Blairs do together now. Not that it’s easy! “Praying out loud is as difficult for me as sharing my feelings,” Randy admits. “But when I’m more open with Dora, I can also be more open and comfortable with God, sharing my problems or requests with Him, asking His forgiveness or thanking Him for meeting my needs. I realize I can’t hide my feelings from God.”

In the process of working out problems with each other, Randy and Dora also realized that, at times, they have to work out misunderstandings in relationships with other people. “If we want to be healed, we have to be willing to be touched and come close to each other,” Randy says.

Dora agrees. “We’ve learned that reconciliation or forgiving each other is something we have to be willing to do all the time. Little hurts spring up in many unexpected ways.” One of the things Randy and Dora do to be reconciled to each other is to focus on each other’s special qualities. They try to find at least one sincere thing to appreciate about each other every day. “We also write letters to each other describing our feelings on specific subjects,” says Dora. “Writing helps us say what we really want to say without interruptions or blame. Writing gives us time to think things through.

“But,” she adds realistically, “we have to be careful even when we write, that we don’t blame each other. I have said many harsh, hurting words and I’ve dumped a lot of negative feelings and guilt on Randy. If we don’t take responsibility for our own feelings, we may end up throwing our letters at each other.” At times, Dora says, she needs to ask Randy’s forgiveness and he needs to give it so that she can be healed. “That enables us to turn the page of our life and go on.”

“Handling Mom” or “giving in” — neither was the way out. Some of the big fights in marriage — money, sex, children, parents — are rarely simple “one cause/one solution” problems. Fighting brings two opposing opinions to light. But the resolution is found in a mixture of responses.

Anger presents one side to our feelings. Different people express anger in different ways: we become loud and out of control, or we pull in and sulk. Either way throws up barriers.

But if we dare to be vulnerable, sharing our feelings openly, we often discover a conflict within ourselves. Admitting our own ambivalence, however, gives a common ground for the marriage communication to begin.

Finding where we agree, seeing the other’s viewpoint, understanding the dilemma and how we got in it, all help pave the path toward solutions that meet the needs of both spouses.

For Randy and Dora, learning to communicate helped resolve several problems: How to feel loved by and important to the other; how to be vulnerable and stay safe; how to see the other’s viewpoint; how to disagree and not shift into blaming and accusing. But the strain of Randy’s conflicted parents and the tug-of-war that resulted was not quickly and clearly resolved. There was no quick fix, pain-free, easy solution. But committed to working, talking, and struggling, they are building a life of meaning and satisfaction together.

Both Dora and Randy agree that through all of their problems, they have changed and grown as persons. “I now have confidence in Randy’s love for me and his willingness to work at our relationship,” Dora says. Because of this confidence, she no longer feels threatened by his mother. “Randy can see her faults more clearly now, and I can even see some of her good qualities! My relationship with his mother has changed for the better, but I know I will always come first. I also know that Mom will have all the love she needs from both of us.”

Their three children are now married and have produced seven grandchildren. Randy’s moustache and Dora’s rich brunette hair are only touched by gray; both still look trim and energetic. The Blairs have entered a new stage of life . . . but that doesn’t mean it’s “happily ever after.” Recently the old tension between Randy’s mom and dad reared its head once more. The difference is, Randy and Dora have new ways to respond when problems arise.

“Randy and I have achieved a better balance now,” Dora says. “We are on one side of the scales, balancing family and job and friends and activities on the other. We still have disagreements and arguments — even fights! — so we realize that we’ll always have to work at our relationship. We know everything won’t always run without a hitch, but now we have the unity we believe God intended to help us deal with the bumps.”

When asked to summarize the turning point in their relationship, they said: “Intimate communication and sharing our feelings is the key that unlocked the closet on our past and aired it out. Reconciliation is a gift of healing and forgiveness. Both of us have had to forgive each other — and we’ve also had to forgive ourselves.”

Dora adds, “We do not have a 50/50 marriage. We both work at it 100 percent!”

Chapter Two

When Opposites Attract

Greg jammed his key in the back door of Saddler’s Hardware and heard the lock click into place. Once again he was the last person to leave . . . not that he really would have trusted his brother Sam to balance the cash register against the day’s receipts. So he just shut his mouth when Sam took off at closing time. The store was doing okay, but it took keeping scrupulous accounts, no thanks to his brother. Oh, he liked the store all right, and he and Sam were third generation. But a family business had its disadvantages, too.

He went through the drive-through at the bank and deposited customer checks, then headed for home. His spirits lifted a little as the long string of fast-food restaurants, gas stations, and new-car lots gradually gave way to trees and fences. Buying the 80 acre farm a few years earlier gave him a real sense of accomplishment. He enjoyed the physical work — helped him keep his six-foot-two body in shape. Of course, there was a lot to do . . . maybe he and the boys could patch up the old chicken coop and they could get some laying hens . . . fresh eggs would be nice . . . that is, if Natalie okayed the idea.

Natalie.

The tension that had been draining out of Greg’s body suddenly seemed to return. He couldn’t predict what his wife’s reaction to the idea of chickens might be — or anything else, for that matter. She was wound tighter than a bow string lately — too much of the time, in his opinion. It was anybody’s guess what she did all day — certainly not the housework! When he left the house that morning, the sink was full of dirty dishes and the laundry baskets were overflowing.

He didn’t understand it. Natalie was a pretty woman — nine years his junior, still in her early thirties, her dark hair long and wavy. Ben and Ryan were in school now and busy with baseball and band. Yet ever since she’d had that nervous breakdown five years back, she’d gradually been letting herself go, didn’t seem to care about taking care of the house, resisted suggestions he made about how to organize her time, flew off the handle if he criticized. . . .

He wheeled the Toyota into the driveway and turned off the ignition with a sigh. Sometimes Natalie could really shine. He smiled, thinking of the spunky girl he’d married, winning ribbons barrel racing her horse at the country rodeos. And the goats! She’d realized that even their one cow provided way too much milk for a single family, so she’d switched to a goat. Boy, she really got into goats, and he’d been so proud when she won ribbons at the County Fair for improving the breed. He knew she was a good planner, with a lot of talent. All the more reason he didn’t understand her seeming paralysis around the house lately . . . well, maybe she’d snap out of it.

But when Greg walked into the house, it was obvious that Natalie had not “snapped out of it.” Ben, age 12, and Ryan, 10, were tearing hunks out of a heated frozen pizza at the kitchen table, where dirty dishes had been pushed to one side.

“Hi, Dad!” Ben said cheerfully, dripping pizza sauce onto the comic book he was reading. “Mom said we could fix our own supper.”

Greg stifled a flash of irritation. “Hi, guys,” he smiled. “How’d practice go today?”

“Great!” Ryan stuffed more pizza in his mouth. “I hit a home run!”

Greg gave his youngest son a “high five,” then walked into the living room. Natalie was lying on the couch watching the news.

“Are you planning on supper?” he said carefully.

“I’m not hungry,” she mumbled. “I told the boys to go ahead.”

“Well, I’m hungry,” he said, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. “It’s been a long day.”

Natalie pulled herself off the couch. “Well, I didn’t know for sure when you’d be coming. There’s some leftover meat loaf I can warm up.”

Greg took her by the arm. “Look, Natalie. What’s going on here?” He could feel the heat rising in his voice. “We haven’t had a regular meal all week. There are dirty dishes all over the kitchen . . . this living room hasn’t seen a dust cloth in a month!”

Natalie jerked away from him. “Don’t yell at me.”

“I’m not yelling, for God’s sake!” he said. “But I’m out there working my tail off to make a living for you and the boys, and what are you doing? Nothing! Sitting on your butt. You’re just trash!”

“I am not!” Natalie screamed in protest, but he saw a pang of self-doubt cloud her eyes. He knew he’d hurt her. She’d always looked up to him, and he’d stabbed her in the heart.

“You don’t understand what it’s like being cooped up here all day!” she cried. “I make plans for what I’m going to do, then it just goes wrong. I feel so depressed. . . . It’s different for you. Every day you’ve got lots of people to meet, business challenges, you eat lunch out. . . .”

“Oh, cut it out! Today I sent out for McDonald’s. By the time I got to it, the fries had congealed into a cold fistful of grease.”

“See, you never listen to me! You don’t understand . . . no, you won’t understand. I can’t stand it. I want out!” she screamed. “I want a divorce!” Her words reverberated through the house. There was silence from the boys in the kitchen. There was silence from Greg as he stood there staring at her.

Then, after what seemed an eternity, he said matter-of-factly, “You don’t really mean that. Look, I’m going out to do the chores. When I get back, let’s eat.”

As Greg went out the back door he heard Ryan say to his mom, “You and Dad aren’t going to get a divorce, are you?”

Greg heard the refrigerator door open and Natalie’s voice muffled inside it. “No. I don’t believe in divorce.”

He let out a breath of relief. But her words, “You never listen to me!” rang in his ears. Of course he listened to her; how could he help it? She was always railing at him or complaining about something. But he felt too overwhelmed to respond; he didn’t know what to do. He seldom seemed to know what to do these days. It had gotten to the point that he sometimes couldn’t handle his own responsibilities at work for worrying about her. She seems totally dependent on me, Greg would think to himself. She can’t do anything for herself.

But it hadn’t always been that way.

• • •

Natalie had grown up in a large, God-fearing, church-oriented, emotionally expressive family that was constantly on the move. “I think I changed schools seven times in eight years, from one side of our city to the other,” she recalls. Verbal and physical punishment, as well as Bible reading and warm expressions of love, were all part of her daily experience. Her mother was volatile and sarcastic at times while her father was always outwardly supportive and loving to his wife and only showed anger when punishing the children.

In contrast, Greg grew up in a midwestern, small town, living in the same house for his whole childhood. His older brother and sister were gone by the time he was in the early grades. From then on, it was much like being an only child. His parents were unexpressive and showed little verbal or physical emotion in front of him. His father was a quiet, well-respected man who taught him many things as a boy but was never really close to him until Greg’s high school years. “I guess I grew up pretty independently doing my chores, practicing music, camping, and playing sports with the neighborhood kids and a few select buddies,” remembers Greg. “I left home before my sophomore year to go to a college preparatory school, so I was pretty much on my own from then on.”

But when Greg was 20 he was befriended by Natalie’s family and got to know the cute little girl who was only 11 years old at the time. That friendship lasted through Greg’s college years and while he was getting his start in the world. In fact, as much younger as Natalie was, they began to realize that they were in love with each other, and before she turned 18, they got married.

“Our difference in ages seemed no problem,” says Greg. “I had known her and been close to her family for so long that I didn’t think it would matter. Besides we were very much in love.” But the newlyweds were to discover that background differences can erupt in painful confusion when there are different expectations and emotional needs.

And they were different personalities, too. Greg jumped out of bed early, ready to meet the challenges of the day. Natalie started slowly, barely able to get her eyes open for at least a half-hour. Greg built his day on discipline and order, planning ahead with regular times for meals. Natalie felt good doing things spontaneously and liked to eat when she was hungry.

Natalie was spontaneous with feelings of love — and anger — when she felt them. Greg was reserved like his parents and devastated by angry exchanges.

In the evening Greg was ready to slow down and share with Natalie, but by then she had a full head of steam and was involved in her work. Then at bedtime, when Greg was ready to read and fall off to sleep, she was ready to describe her day and share intimacies into the night.

He’s a morning person; she’s a night. Routine and discipline — that’s the way to make life work. Spontaneous and tolerant — that’s the way to make life worth living. In marriage we often lead with our strengths, even though we are attracted to our weaknesses as we see them demonstrated in our spouse.

Somewhere inside Greg recognized his need to relax and share responsibility rather than trying to do everything by himself. That’s why he liked Natalie. Somewhere inside, Natalie recognized her need to achieve long-term goals with self-discipline and determination. That’s why she liked Greg. Marriage excites us to the possibility of having it all: masculine and feminine, vulnerable and strong, planned and spontaneous, expressing and receiving, all working together. But the dream of complimenting each other can fade into competition.

As the demands of family life increase, Greg’s discomfort rises and he responds in ways he knows best. Desperately he tries to force his ways on Natalie.

Have you ever started an activity as an adult alongside someone who learned it as a child? Skating, skiing, bowling, basketball, piano, painting — all these activities have specific physical and emotional demands. Developing confidence, being relaxed, smoothly going through the motions, and following through are just a few of the many complex stages needed to perform. The more we practice, the more natural we look. Once learned, the detailed steps are not part of our awareness. Instead, we let our bodies simply . . . do it.

It is the same in marriage. When conflict begins, we turn on our natural response. The style we use is typically developed in childhood. Childhood is when we most readily learn; however, learning can occur throughout life. To learn new responses means experiencing fear, doubt, and temporary low self-confidence. How easy to respond with well-worn patterns! How hard to learn something new!

Greg and Natalie’s differences were a challenge, but how they responded to them almost ruined their marriage.

“I didn’t notice it when we were going together,” says Natalie, “but after we had been married for a few years, the fact that Greg was so much older than I began to make me feel like an ignorant child who didn’t know how to do anything.”

It began innocently enough. Greg would notice the way Natalie was mopping and say, “Hey, that’s not how they taught us in the military. Here, let me show you.” Then he would grab the mop and go back over the area Natalie had already done, swinging it like a sailor swabbing a deck. “There, see? Nothing to it if you do it right.”

Something happened inside Natalie during these little lectures. She knew she was mopping the floor okay; she just wasn’t doing it his way. But she felt humiliated, as if she couldn’t do anything right. A few days later, when it was time to mop the kitchen again, she found it harder and harder to bring herself to do it. She would get out the bucket and mop and try to swing it like Greg had shown her. But before she was halfway through the job, she felt as though she had lost all her strength. It was repulsive, repugnant; she could hardly force her arms to move. She drifted into the living room and picked up a novel to take her mind off her feelings of inadequacy. The next thing she knew, the boys were coming home from school.

“What’s the mop and bucket doing standing in the middle of the kitchen?” Greg asked when he came home.

“It’s not in the middle of the kitchen,” snapped Natalie.

“All right,” soothed Greg. “But why didn’t you put it away? Things should be put away when you are finished with them. Hey, it’s still sticky over here where the juice spilled this morning. Didn’t you mop by the frig?”

“I didn’t finish,” yelled Natalie. “That’s why the mop’s still out.”

“Why didn’t you finish?”

“I didn’t feel well. Now, will you get off my back?”

“I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell me in the first place?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“You always throw that at me. How can I understand if you won’t tell me?”

They both avoided talking to each other through supper. Then Greg, attempting to change the subject, asked, “Did you pay the mortgage today?”

Natalie froze. She knew there had been something she needed to do. Why had she forgotten? She felt like she was losing her mind. Now it would be overdue, and they would have to pay another penalty, not to mention that it looked bad on their credit record for their payments to be late so often.

Greg could see by the blanched look on her face that he’d asked the wrong question. He was disgusted. He didn’t have time for this hassle. “Where’s the checkbook? I’ll put the money in the mail tomorrow on my way to the store.”

“In the bedroom.”

Greg went into the darkened bedroom and tripped over a pile of clothes on the floor. He cursed quietly as he groped for the light. He finally found the checkbook under a pile of papers on the dresser. He stuffed it in his shirt pocket and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Maybe Natalie was having PMS again. She seemed to be so touchy lately whenever her period came around. He wrestled with himself. Something had to change. Maybe he should do more. He looked around, then picked up the dirty clothes and piled them on top of the overflowing hamper. What’s the matter with her? he thought. When was the last time she did the laundry?

He walked out in disgust, his resolve to be more helpful forgotten. He sat down at the dining room table and opened the checkbook to write the mortgage check. “Natalie, there’s a check missing. Why didn’t you record it?” he said, keeping his voice calm with great difficulty. He wasn’t going to yell like she did, no matter how upset he was.

But Natalie knew that tone of voice. Why hadn’t she recorded that check? It was only for a few dollars, but now she couldn’t remember what the amount had been. She ran out of the house, slamming the door behind her. She ran to the barn and climbed up into the loft. There she cried until the golden dusk faded into the deep indigo of night.

They were simple things: mopping a floor, writing a check. And yet, why couldn’t she do them? She wasn’t deliberately trying to punish her husband. But her misery left her paralyzed. In a power struggle, where one spouse feels depressed, unfocused, and discouraged, conflict and bitterness grows for both of them.

As we read about Greg and Natalie, we can see the pattern unfold. Something is wrong. Assumptions are made, each tells the other how he or she should change, both fortify their position. Fights break out with the smallest provocation. Neither really understands what is happening. Greg doesn’t have a clue why Natalie isn’t functioning well. Oh, he “thinks” he knows, but he doesn’t.

The marriage is out of balance. Greg’s anxiety triggers over-functioning and blame. Natalie knows a part of her is trapped and dying. Unable to assert her true feelings into Greg’s awareness, she is also unable to tolerate her “non-person” status.

Each of us is blessed with a mind, soul, and will — a self. If trampled on, berated, or ignored, one of two things will happen. One response is to abandon the self. In this case, the spouse becomes a doormat, a non-person who simply exists at the other’s will. The other response is revolution. The spouse becomes angry and unwilling to take it anymore. Something is going to change.

Many a marital fight is rooted in a simple principle: We will not willingly do anything (even if it is something we want to do) if we believe our spouse is making us. We must be allowed to choose to change. Demands by a spouse are not well-received because marriage is designed to be a partnership. The personalities and resources of Greg and Natalie are not the problem. Human nature, which chooses to dictate, be stubborn, jealous, anxious, and afraid to trust, blocks the learning and growing process. The God of our relationships tells us to surrender these self-preoccupations and step forward in faith. For it is in God’s plan that openness begins the process whereby both husband and wife work and play in a satisfying life together.

One day Natalie was gathering Greg’s clothes together for the laundry when his address book fell out of a shirt pocket. When she picked it up, a business card was sticking out. It was for William L. Robinson, attorney at law, specializing in family law: adoptions, separations, divorce, child support and custody, wills, probate, and trusts.

A cold chill ran through her as she remembered the times Greg had hinted that maybe a separation might be best for them. She had never taken him seriously — she had been the only one who threatened a divorce. That would have been his chance. Instead he had said, “You don’t really mean that,” which had been true, though it had made her mad that he hadn’t taken her seriously.

Nonetheless, as a result of that she had never paid much attention when he had hinted at separation. After all, what would they do with the boys? How would they be able to keep the farm?

But now this card. What did it mean?

That evening when he got home, Natalie had a hot meal ready to put on the table when Greg walked in. She was proud of herself. She would try harder to please him.

He greeted her and the boys, then sat down to eat as he asked the boys about their day. But to her it was just “Pass the meat,” and “Is there any more coffee?” spoken nicely enough, but he took no notice of the fact that she had prepared a hot meal. She felt he took it for granted, like it was something she did every day.

That made Natalie angry. “Who’s William L. Robinson?” she challenged.

“Who?”

“William L. Robinson.”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“Because I found his card in your shirt . . . when I was doing the laundry today,” she couldn’t help adding with undisguised emphasis.

But he missed it. Instead, she thought she detected color rising up his neck as he reached for another slice of bread. “Never heard of the guy.”

“William L. Robinson, attorney at law? You’ve never heard of him?”

“Oh, Bill, sure. He’s just an old college friend. I asked him to come by the store the other day. I had some company tax questions I wanted to ask him about. Hey, guys, you going out for basketball this year?”

“Not me,” said Ryan, “I’m getting an early jump on baseball.” Ben said nothing but looked over at his mom, aware of the tension in the air.

“Greg,” she said, “according to his card, this Robinson doesn’t do corporate law. He specializes in family matters.”

“So what? Lawyers are like doctors; they all study the basics before they specialize. I just had a simple question.”

“You’re telling me that lawyers make house calls these days to answer questions that aren’t even in their field?”

Greg didn’t answer, and Natalie said no more for the moment. But that night in bed she broached the subject again. “Is something wrong?” she asked to Greg’s back. He pretended to be asleep. “Greg, something’s up, isn’t it? You didn’t contact that lawyer over a tax question, did you?”

“Give it a rest, Natalie. Everything’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. If it were, you’d tell me what’s going on. You’re talking to a lawyer about us, aren’t you?”

Greg sat up and punched the pillow into the head of the bed. “Turn out that damn light; I’ve told you a thousand times that it shines right into my eyes.”

She turned out the offending light and switched on the soft light beside the bed. Then she waited for him to continue.

“All right. If you must know, I made an appointment for us to talk to this guy. He’s real good. I think he can help us.”

Could it be that Greg wanted them to go for some marital help? Natalie hardly knew what to think. She wanted to believe it, but it seemed so unlike Greg. Finally, she said, “When’s the appointment?”

“Next Tuesday.”

As Tuesday approached, Natalie became more and more anxious. Once she phoned the number on the card, just to see if it was legitimate. “Byrne, Cooper, and Robinson. How may I help you?” Natalie didn’t know what to say, so she just replaced the receiver softly.

On Tuesday, Greg was nervous, too. He said nothing while they drove the hour and a half to Robinson’s office. There, the attorney received them warmly and showed them to seats in his plush office. “Well, I think we have everything ready here,” he said as he opened a green, hanging file folder. “Maybe it would be best if I started by reading it.”

As the lawyer read the paper, Natalie couldn’t believe her ears. She was being sued for divorce.

“How did you have the nerve to bring me here under the pretense that we were going to get some counseling?” she finally said after the attorney finished reading.

“I didn’t say ‘counseling,’ ” Greg protested. “I said I thought Bill could ‘help us.’ And I think he can. I really think this would be best for us. Don’t you see? We’re not making it. Look, I initiated this, so I’ll pay for it all. It won’t be a hardship on you. In fact, it will be better for everyone concerned.”

Natalie got up and walked out. She cried all the way home.

The feeling that a marriage isn’t working is overwhelming. Guilt and anger, remorse and despair run rampant. The positive step here was the recognition that things were all wrong. Unfortunately, thinking you’ve tried everything and the only way left is to get out is a common conclusion.

Greg wasn’t able to be honest with Natalie, because he had built a wall of protection around his feelings; he couldn’t handle her angry outbursts. Problem solving was shot because communication had broken down. He rightly concluded that only a third person could help end a process which was only going around in an endless fight. Unfortunately, he chose a divorce attorney instead of a marriage counselor.

When they got home, Natalie grabbed a few of her things and left for her parents’ house. She would leave it to Greg to figure out what to do with the boys. If this was what he wanted, he could deal with the whole works.

The next day when she came back for the rest of her things, Greg was there — home from work. “Listen,” he said. “I haven’t told the boys yet. I think it would be better for you to stay here tonight until we figure out what to do.” He talked on and on, until she agreed to stay.

But that night when he tried to reach out and touch her in bed, she snapped, “What’s going on here? You filed for divorce, and now you want to make love to me? This just doesn’t make sense. This is making me crazy. You better decide what you really want, because I want no part of this.”

She slept on the couch the rest of the night and left for her folks the next morning. Let Greg figure how to tell the boys. She couldn’t deal with that right now.

Within three days, Natalie got an apartment in town and got a job. It wasn’t much — just a sales clerk position — but it was enough to ensure her independence.

Second thoughts convinced her that she wasn’t going to let Greg have the boys so easily. She arranged for her folks to take them temporarily. As soon as she could, she would get a larger apartment and have them move in with her. But in the meantime, they liked their grandparents, and she could see them as much as she wanted.

“At first it was all gut-wrenching pain, like someone had cut out my insides,” remembers Natalie. “Sometimes I would call Greg up and try to figure out why he didn’t want me anymore, but that never did any good.”

With the separation, a new ball game has begun. Still connected emotionally, Greg and Natalie have more independent responsibilities. Each holds their own destiny. This could and should happen within marriage, but for Greg and Natalie the separation brought clarity to their need for self-determination.

Rather than waiting for the other to change, this was the time to self-evaluate and address the issues in each individual life. Strong togetherness requires well-functioning individuals. Tugging and pulling on each other needed to stop.

For Greg and Natalie the old marriage had passed away. But grief and loss create a very empty feeling. As unhealthy and dysfunctional as the relationship was, some longing to return is always present. This is a time couples need to have confidence that making a commitment to health is primary. Getting back together before self-focus and change has begun can mean just drifting back into the old misery.

Scary? You bet! “Can I change? Will my spouse? Will I want to be married? Will we get together again?” Lots of anxious questions about the future flood the minds of separated couples.

But slowly, as the weeks passed, things went better for Natalie. Somehow, on her own, she had more initiative. She rented a larger apartment, had the boys move in, and even got a raise at her job.

“I came home at night, and there was no one there to criticize my every move,” Natalie says. “That made such a difference in how I felt about myself. I felt so much more peaceful and relaxed.” She began exercising and lost weight. People began noticing how good she looked again. “It did wonders for me. And then one day, a new thought struck me. I had been agonizing all this time over why Greg had rejected me — why he didn’t want me anymore — when suddenly I realized that I didn’t want him. In fact, I had wanted out of that destructive relationship for years, but the feeling of rejection from his disapproval and then his finally filing for divorce had been so painful that I had not allowed myself to face my wants.”

That was a major turning point for Natalie — not because she’d simply flipped the who-wants-who equation, but she’d finally moved beyond measuring her self worth entirely by someone else’s approval.

In the meantime, Greg was going through some changes of his own.

“It seems so long ago now,” he reflects. “I had decided it was useless to go on with Natalie. I felt so overwhelmed trying to carry the burden of Natalie and her problems. Those feelings made me unable to handle my own responsibilities, and so I blamed all my problems on her. I thought she was causing my pain.

“But after she moved out, I had to face my own problems — both within myself and at work. One of my tendencies is to be a problem-solver. That was part of my role at the store. So I kept trying to do that at home. Every time I saw something going wrong at home, I’d try to fix it. But I’ve learned that trying to be the fix-it man is a dangerous way to function in a marriage.

“However, after Natalie moved out I discovered I was near burnout at work from its own pressures. I had gotten to the point where I was actually afraid to answer the phone for fear it would be an angry creditor or an unhappy customer I had to deal with. I had been blaming Natalie for being unable to function at work, but once she’d been gone for a while, I had to face the fact that she wasn’t the source of all my problems.

“Weekends were even worse. They gave me no respite. I felt like my whole body and head were coming apart. I couldn’t pull myself back together to face the next week. Now I realize that it wasn’t the weekends alone that were so bad but I kept dreading what I’d face on Monday morning.”

Greg had been trying to juggle more responsibilities than most people could manage. Not only was he trying to run a very competitive business, but he and Natalie had been buying and running a farm, building a house (it wasn’t finished yet), and he was a Scout leader, Sunday school teacher, and worship leader at their church.

Greg says that one of the first steps in his recovery was that “without Natalie there, I had to face the fact that she wasn’t the source of my problems. I had been trying to do far more than I could manage. Even without Natalie, I still wasn’t going to solve all my other problems. Removing that blame from her did a great deal to change the way I looked at her. It really hurt to the quick to realize that I had caused her so much pain by rejecting her and blaming her for all my problems and failures.”

Maturing is hard work. No marriage lets us escape the process. In fact, marriage only demands we mature more.

Are two heads better than one? Yes, if they work together and each person is responsible for his or her own input.

Who we marry and how our relationship goes has little effect on how we choose to manage our lives. Spouses are powerless to change habits, personalities, and styles of living in each other. Sure, some interactions are more helpful than others. But each person is still responsible for his or her own thoughts and actions.

Both Greg and Natalie had become too intertwined. Each waited for the other to act appropriately first so they could then respond appropriately. Seeing for themselves how each had to be accountable for his or her own choices and actions was a major insight. With the fantasy removed that the other spouse was responsible, now each could be about the task of growing.

“I knew it was going to take some time to get my feet back on the ground,” recalls Greg, “but I always hoped that if Natalie was still there, we might be able to get back together again.”

During the next two or three months Greg saw Natalie from time to time on the street or when he came over to pick up the boys, and he noticed that she seemed to be looking better. “She was carrying herself more confidently, she had thinned down, and she seemed to be doing just fine on her own. It made me question what made her different. I didn’t like the implication that she could do better without me than with me. On the other hand, I knew if we were to ever get back together again, it would have to be without that dependency syndrome — whatever had caused it.”

What had caused it was very complex. Partially, it had to do with the differences in their personalities and physical makeup. Greg was disciplined and precise; Natalie more spontaneous and free-flowing. Greg tended to take charge and direct; Natalie did not want to be told what to do. He was frustrated by her seeming “lack of productivity,” because he knew she could be organized when she wanted to be. She was prone to bouts of depression and severe PMS, which he never fully understood.

All this was greatly amplified by the differences in their ages. From the very beginning Greg was more experienced in certain areas than Natalie. For instance, most young adults go through a period when they find out by trial and error the importance of paying bills on time and keeping the checkbook up to date. Greg had no patience with Natalie learning by trial and error. She, on the other hand, had a great deal of natural resistance to him treating her like a child.

The more he directed and organized, the more she felt put down. But in order to resist feeling put down, she resisted Greg’s direction until it was nearly impossible to force herself to do the things he wanted her to do. The difficulty she experienced in doing the housework was neither imagined nor the result of laziness. But her entire being screamed out in protest against never being able to measure up. But in not being able to follow through as he thought she should, she felt even more put down — and the cycle was just reinforced.

And, although taking charge was his style, it’s an exhausting task, especially when it is resisted. From Greg’s perspective, Natalie was becoming more and more dependent until she felt like a two-ton weight around his neck. As Greg approached burnout, his genuine respect for Natalie and diplomacy in relating to her declined and the problem was compounded.

For these reasons, it was probably necessary for both of them to experience a time of separation simply to break the syndrome and regain mutual equilibrium. But even after they regained stability and self-respect, they still faced the task of rebuilding their relationship on new foundations.

A few weeks after their separation a friend encouraged Greg and Natalie to attend a Recovery of Hope session. As Natalie listened to the experiences of other couples who struggled with problems even worse than theirs and heard how they had gained new life for their marriages, she felt a surge of hope. “Later I was disappointed to discover that Greg wasn’t feeling the same thing,” she says. In fact, Greg was not hopeful; the most he was willing to do was promise not to do anything drastic for 30 days.

Natalie remembers feeling as if they had come to this point through a dark, oppressive fog. At the Recovery of Hope session, the fog seemed to lift so the sun shone through, but then the fog closed in again. Nevertheless something was different: she now knew that the sun was still out there, and the fog might lift again.

In spite of Greg’s pessimism, the time apart brought home an important realization: he still cared for Natalie. He thought about what some of the Recovery of Hope couples had told them about rebuilding their once-shattered marriages. Maybe there was hope for them.

“When I thought about the possibility of a relationship with some other woman,” Greg now says, “I realized someone else couldn’t replace the good things Natalie and I had developed together. She also had a deeper beauty and passion than anyone else I could imagine. Would someone else love me any better than Natalie? And realizing that she was not the sole cause of my pressures and problems made me want to rebuild our relationship.

When he went to pick up the boys for a visit, Greg felt certain that Natalie wanted the same thing. “I could see the love-light in her eyes,” he says. “But we were both very cautious.”

As with so many other things, their caution took different forms. Greg’s inclination was to get back together and “just try it” again. Natalie said no. She wasn’t up for experiments. “I thought the only way to make it work was make a clear commitment to do whatever it takes to make it work.”

Both approaches were logical. They had experienced so much pain, that if they tried it and it didn’t work, there was no way they could endure years more of what they had already gone through. On the other hand, they both needed to do a lot more growing and changing. Without a commitment to stay with the process and get outside help when necessary, the relationship would probably explode again.

In the end, they did a little of both. It began with Greg inviting Natalie on a weekend date to a friend’s apartment who was out of town. Natalie was scared and at first refused; she finally agreed but resolved that there would be no emotionally-confusing hanky-panky.

For Greg, however, the weekend was very emotional. After a nice dinner out, they stayed up until three or four in the morning talking. It was the first time Greg opened up about his feelings and let the tears come. He was able to tell Natalie how much he loved her, and ask her forgiveness for all the ways he’d hurt her.

“As I lay awake watching Natalie sleep early the next morning,” he says, “I felt incredibly peaceful and happy, and tears streamed down my face. Once again I had hope for our marriage. I was confused at how to go on, because I knew we were different persons after being apart, but I was in love without a doubt. In many ways Natalie was still the same; but things felt different — so caring, so supportive, so understanding, so forgiving. I was so happy to be back with the one I loved — all those feelings at the same time!”

But ending up in bed together that weekend was terribly confusing to Natalie. Had he succeeded in talking her into “trying it” without the commitment? On the other hand, Greg had clearly asked her to forgive him for blaming her for all his problems. He had also cried and expressed a lot of deep remorse. To Natalie, these were new attitudes and responses from Greg. For the first time, she began to feel like he understood what she had been going through. Maybe this was the new foundation she had been looking for. But would it last for tomorrow and next week?

The Saddlers made a decision that weekend to try to recover their relationship. “I knew it would be extremely difficult,” says Greg, “and that I would need to make some big changes in how I treated her.

Rebuilding a relationship rarely goes by the book. Each couple moves at a pace determined only by them. Sexual intimacy helps with closeness and security, but can distract the couple into “feeling” the relationship is in better shape than is the case. Slow, steady progress is the ideal during the rebuilding process, just as it is in dating. Bursts of insight, breakthroughs in understanding, plateaus in growth, destructive backsliding, and times of bewilderment are all a normal part of this process.

The next morning — Sunday — the Saddlers went for a long walk, and Greg said, “On Monday morning, I’ll call the lawyer and cancel the divorce proceedings.” That was even more solid.

“A few days later,” recalls Natalie, “Greg sent me flowers at my work. That was really special to me because communicating our love to one another had been a real problem. I always wanted Greg to say the words, ‘I love you,’ or express it with something like flowers. Instead, he thought he was loving me by doing the dishes or picking up the house, but that only made me feel bad because again he noticed that I hadn’t lived up to his expectations.”

“It’s true,” Greg admits. “It was like one of us would pitch, but the other one didn’t catch the ball. Natalie liked to be affectionate and express her love spontaneously, but that was hard for me to take when she hadn’t done the dishes or the laundry. We just hadn’t learned how to speak each other’s love language.”

When Natalie’s sister heard that they were exploring getting back together again, she said, “If that’s what you want, don’t come running to me when you get hurt again!” At first Natalie was shocked that her family didn’t understand what she and Greg were trying to do. But everyone did not respond in the same way. Natalie recalls: “I was really encouraged by some supportive friends at our church who drew us into various activities. One Sunday a couple presented us with tickets — at $70 each — to a special weekend with music, uplifting seminars, and time away together. We could not have afforded it otherwise, but we used it like a second honeymoon. I felt God healing and renewing, and came away feeling refreshed and challenged.”

Greg moved to town into Natalie’s apartment, and they began to get counseling together. Through counseling, Greg came to realize that he didn’t need to be “president of the universe,” as he puts it. Ultimately, he resigned as head of the family business, sold the farm, and reduced some of the other demands on his life. These practical adjustments greatly relieved the stress he had been under before the separation and allowed him to focus on their marriage in a much more relaxed manner.

But leaving the family business left Greg unemployed for a couple months, and they lost their medical insurance coverage. Struggling to recover financially from those obstacles took a long time.

In the meantime, old habits didn’t fall away easily. While they were separated Natalie had started developing some healthy independence and worked on being physically and emotionally attractive. But when they got back together it was hard to maintain the emotional distance from Greg that she needed. “I often felt as if I were being sucked into him as if he were a vacuum cleaner and I was the dirt,” Natalie explains. Ongoing counseling was important for them to keep things in focus.

An old marriage joke goes: “And the two became one. The question is: Which one did they become?” Marriage is not designed to swallow up one person into the other. Good marriages are built by two independent adults. Time together and time apart should be a comfortable daily balance. Individual interests and common interests should complement each other. Differences in opinions can lead to problem solving and compromise. When this balance is found, mutual respect rules.

One Saturday afternoon Natalie was so mixed up she didn’t know how to go on. She began telling Greg about all of her hurts — things that went way back, such as her guilt feelings over premarital sex, which she hadn’t really wanted but thought she was supposed to do to please the guy. She also shared with him how rejected she felt when he filed for divorce.

At first, Greg didn’t seem to understand why those things still hurt her so much or why she carried them so long. But then he said, “I’m so sorry that you’re hurting, and I’m sorry that I hurt you in that way. I can’t go back and change it, but I’m here now, and I found out that I love you; I know that.”

Natalie was astounded. He had really heard her and responded in a way she could understand! For her, it was the beginning of looking at their marriage in a different light.

Since they have been back together both Greg and Natalie began to realize that neither of them survives a screaming match very well. And so they have had to learn some rules for “fighting fair,” rules like: sticking to the issue instead of cutting the other person down; and being able to say, “I’m so angry that I’d better not say any more right now.” Leaving for an hour or so is much preferable to walking out altogether.

Although they are getting better at this, they sometimes slip back into old habits. So learning to forgive each other again and again has been very important.

Both Greg and Natalie are slowly learning to accept the things they can’t change in each other. There is something special about appreciating what a person is, rather than trying to make the person over. Greg notes, “The differences in our personalities that gave us so many problems to begin with are now making our marriage more interesting and rewarding.”

Have you ever thought of the different “rules” we have for living? Consider these:

Haste makes waste.

He who hesitates is lost.

You have to spend money to make money.

A penny saved is a penny earned.

Anything worth doing is worth doing well.

The most important thing is to try.

If you can’t be on time, don’t come at all.

Better late than never.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Out of sight, out of mind.

The list is probably endless. Did you notice how one seems to contradict the other? Every marriage has a spokesperson for each side. “Money should be saved — we’ll do without that,” versus “Money should be enjoyed — we’ll make enough to afford it.” Or “I’m not doing another thing until we settle this,” versus “I can’t think now, let’s talk about it later.” The differences are endless.

Being just the same is not an option. Common ground is important, but is usually found in mutual respect and a commitment to the relationship rather than in handling life exactly the same as your spouse. For Greg and Natalie, mutual respect for their differences is building a whole new foundation.

Greg sums up his growing edges this way. “Before, I hid my thoughts and feelings from Gwen, leaving her to guess and agonize over my lack of expression. Now, it’s easier to express my inner self to her, which relieves tension for both of us.

“Before, I told Gwen what I thought she wanted to hear, and did what I thought should please her without checking it out — as if I could read her mind and she should be able to read mine. Now, I try to understand her desires and expectations, and try to respond appropriately and honestly.

“Before, I took her for granted and didn’t acknowledge her accomplishments and labors of love for me. Now, I know that she thrives on my loving expressions.

“Before, I listened to her problems and tried to solve them for her. Now, I know that what she wants is for me to listen and show that I care, but then let her work out and determine her own solutions. If she wants my help, she wants to ask for my help.”

As for Gwen, she laughs, “Now that the kids are grown, we’re finally beginning to grow up!”

Chapter Three

Just Like Your Mom

Beth Graham heard the back door slam, and quickly shoved the stack of bills and papers into the desk drawer. Her husband Todd came into the room, shirt sleeves rolled up, hands streaked with black grease.

“Beth? Do we have any cash?”

“What do you want it for?”

The familiar look of irritation flickered over Todd’s lanky features. “What do you mean, what do I want it for?” he snapped. “I’m going to the auto store . . . is that all right with you?” he added sarcastically.

“Well, you can’t — I don’t have any cash.”

“I’ll take the checkbook, then.”

“Why do you have to go to the auto store again?” Beth demanded. She heard her voice rising. “You just went last night. How much is restoring that old car going to cost? We might as well go buy a new one.”

Todd slammed his hand on the door frame. “What is this — the third degree? If I wanted someone asking me ‘Why this?’ ‘How come that?’ every time I step out the door, I could have stayed home and lived with my mother!”

“You don’t have to yell. I only —”

“I can yell if I want to! Good grief, Beth — I just want 10 bucks to get some spark plugs. Now give me the stupid checkbook!”

Beth turned her back to Todd so he wouldn’t see the panic in her eyes. “Well, I — I can’t find it. That’s what I was looking for just now. Maybe I left it at the grocery store this morning. I’ll give them a call.”

It was a lie. She knew perfectly well where the checkbook was: in the desk drawer, with the letter from the bank stamped “Insufficient Funds.”

As Beth pushed past him, Todd’s mouth dropped open and he rolled his eyes. “I don’t believe this! You stand there giving me grief about wanting to go to the auto store, and the real problem is you’ve lost the stupid checkbook! If that doesn’t beat all . . . you make me mad!”

He followed her to the kitchen, where she made a pretense of looking up the number of the grocery store in the phone book. “You’re just like your mom, you know that?” he said. “Always nagging, always blaming someone else when it’s your own fault. Well, I’m not waiting around while you track down the checkbook. I’ll just use the credit card.”

Beth stood frozen at the phone until she heard the pickup spin out of the driveway, tires squealing.

Then the house was silent, except for the faraway sounds of the boys playing out in the back yard. Like a movie running in slow motion, she moved back through the house and into the bedroom, and opened the desk drawer. She took out the checkbook and the papers she had stuffed in the drawer.

The bank statement . . . “Insufficient funds.”

The credit card statement: $4,558 outstanding. Three hundred of that was interest. . . .

A letter from a collection agency. Her eyes blurred as she read the words: “We are prepared to take immediate action if this bill is not paid in seven days.”

Like a zombie, Beth sank into the desk chair. Her eyes burned, but the tears didn’t come.

There was no way out.

She would have to tell Todd.

They would have to declare bankruptcy.

• • •

Todd didn’t have the slightest hint that they were in trouble. Every week he just handed his paycheck to Beth to deposit along with hers. “I never even paid attention to how much my paychecks amounted to,” Todd confesses. “I was always intimidated by money coming in and going out. My dad mishandled our money and I lived in fear we’d end up without a home to live in. In my late teens my mom took over and did very well, so I thought a woman could do a better job.”

“Todd never seemed interested in the bills or the balance in the checkbook as long as there was money when he needed it.” Beth shakes her head at the irony of ending up with the family budget. “The problem is, I am not a thrifty person. I thrive on spending, spending, spending! When I’m spending I feel like I have power. I’m in control; I’m on a high, sort of like an alcoholic or a drug user.”

Beth often felt guilty for going on shopping binges, but the guilt was overcome by the rush she felt. “Spending money made me feel that I’m as good as anyone else. And believe me,” she admits ruefully, “I always fell in love with the most expensive thing in the entire mall.”

Only later, when everything — including her marriage — came crashing down around her, did Beth realize how much her compulsion to spend, to be in control, was tied to her shaky self-image.

Patterns in a marriage quickly emerge. Each spouse has emotional needs and personal struggles which become part of the marriage foundation. Who we are gets played out day by day. The choices we make shape the course the marriage takes. This course is rarely planned, but is followed just the same.

Beth and Todd are moving down a well-worn destructive path. Money management is the symptom. The illness, no doubt, is something more.

Born and raised in a mid-sized Indiana town, Beth often felt alone as she struggled through childhood and adolescence. “My father was an alcoholic, and my mom always made it very clear that I would never be good enough for anything,” she says about her early years. “When I was 12, my mom started calling me a slut and a whore. I wasn’t even interested in boys at the time! But she kept predicting that I would never finish high school because I’d get pregnant.”

In spite of these dire predictions, Beth did finish high school and didn’t get pregnant until after three years of marriage. “I think I did it out of sheer spite!” she says, revealing the gritty spirit that has carried her through a series of traumatic life events. “But inside I struggled with whether the things my mother said about me were true.”

When Todd and Beth began dating in her senior year of high school (he had graduated two years before), she could hardly believe he had asked her out. Todd was so popular and good in sports, Beth felt she couldn’t possibly be good enough for him. “Even though he told me how much he loved me, I never really believed him,” she admits. “No one had ever loved me the way he claimed he did, and I guess I felt I just didn’t deserve that kind of love.”

But Todd, laid-back and reserved, was attracted to the pretty brunette who seemed so open about her thoughts and feelings. “From the time we were dating,” he remembers, “Beth and I had fights over anything — we even fought over who loved who the most!” At that time he told himself, “It must be because we’re into communicating our feelings” — something he had never really experienced with anyone before. Only many years later did Todd realize they were “communicating” all right, but not in a healthy way.

“From the very beginning of our relationship,” he says, “we were caught in a power struggle. Both of us tried to get the last word in . . . to dominate.” Todd was fiercely competitive — a trait encouraged by his football coach to encourage his performance in sports. He wasn’t really a fighter, which is why he buried a lot of feelings. “But once a fight was under way, I fought like a badger to win,” he admits. “And I usually won, because I could always manipulate Beth’s poor self-image to my advantage.”

But this pattern snowballed into not sharing many of his feelings with Beth. “I wasn’t very good at expressing myself,” he admits, “and when I tried, she just seemed to get angry at me or act cold when I tried to be intimate. So I clammed up, trying to prevent a fight.”

That was another sore point: sex.

Todd liked being sexually playful. He’d grab his wife’s behind in passing, or sneak up behind her and slip his hands into her blouse. But more often than not she’d whirl around and snap, “I hate it when you do that! Can’t you just love me without touching me?!”

Beth agrees that their sex life — or lack of it — led to a lot of fights. “My mom always said that men only want one thing — sex,” she says. “And as hard as I tried not to be like her, I found myself thinking the same way. In fact, our problems really began on our wedding night.”

The wedding flurry was over and the newlyweds drove away in a shower of rice, leaving their families behind in the Indiana town where they’d both grown up. As the Grahams arrived at the motel where they spent their “honeymoon weekend,” Todd was obviously looking forward to getting his new wife into bed.

But Beth found herself dragging her feet. “There was my handsome, athletic husband waiting for me in bed, and suddenly I felt like a fat cow. All the old insecurities swept over me. Sure, he was saying how pretty I was, but I thought, He’s only saying that because he thinks he has to.”

The old feelings of not being good enough made her feel especially vulnerable when it came to sexual intimacy. “I never wanted Todd to see me nude,” Beth admits. “I would never make love unless the lights were out, and would only get undressed under the blankets.” And there was something else. “Unconsciously I was thinking, Todd helped me finally get free from Mom, so why do I need him any more? So sex became just another job that had to be done before I could go to sleep.”

To a healthy, young bridegroom, Beth’s reluctance was a major disappointment. “From the time we said, ‘I do,’ our sex life slowed down to a crawl,” Todd says, remembering his frustration and bewilderment. “Our lovemaking was never spontaneous, and it only happened once in a while when she would ‘permit’ it. I couldn’t understand it, because she never rejected me like that when we were dating. I even started to question my abilities in bed.”

After three years of marriage, the Grahams conceived their first child — a healthy little boy. Two more boys joined their brother over the next six years. Both Todd and Beth enjoyed their children . . . but their sex life remained a minimal part of their relationship.

“On those rare times when we did make love,” Todd recalls, “she always seemed to be holding back, as if she didn’t want to lose control or show any pleasure. She was like a hollow shell with no life or feelings inside. Sometimes she expected me to do things to make her feel good, but she didn’t seem interested in my feelings or pleasure. Or she might go through the motions once in a while, but she really didn’t care.

“That’s when I started feeling used. This usually put me in a bad mood afterwards. That made her feel that she had been used. It was a vicious circle.”

But to Beth it seemed that Todd wasn’t affectionate except when he wanted to make love. “I wanted to cuddle and hold each other and kiss without going any farther,” she says. “But when it never happened that way, I just withdrew from any physical contact until I felt I absolutely had to.”

By this time sex happened so rarely that it was difficult for Todd to be close to Beth without getting aroused. “It was like laying a booze bottle beside an alcoholic,” he says. “The temptation was overwhelming. I communicated very poorly with her about this problem, and Beth took it as another guilt trip I was laying on her.”

Money, sex, control. A vicious circle, to be sure. Conflict is like a mighty river which starts as a little creek. The origins of conflict are found in little moments — for instance, doubting that one’s spouse really means what he or she says. (“He doesn’t really love me.” “She doesn’t really want to.”) Another destructive moment is making assumptions about motives that are never expressed. (“She’s just using me.” “He thinks I’m unattractive.”)

The starting points for these moments are not clear to either spouse. Confused and hurt, everything they try goes wrong. Fear and pride stop them from trying new ways that might work.

Sexual intimacy is one of the most sensitive measures of marital communication. Couples begin marriage each with his or her own sexual language. He’s ready any time; she needs the right mood. He thinks intimacy will help smooth the latest disagreement; she’s emotionally frozen until all fights have been settled. He feels rejected if she has a “headache;” she feels used if intercourse is the objective of every affectionate embrace.

Couples must learn about themselves and how to function in partnership. The early stage of bonding may go fairly well. But God’s gift of sex is only actualized in mutuality. If it’s not working for both partners, it’s not working. And a dysfunctional sexual relationship is a warning light that other aspects of the marriage — either as cause or effect — are in tension. For Beth and Todd, marriage is not working as God intended.

The fighting over everything imaginable continued, an endless circle of clutching too tightly to the relationship or holding it at arm’s length.

Frequently when Todd left the house, Beth was at the door demanding an explanation. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to drop Jason off at his game practice, then run some errands.”

“Like what errands?”

“What errands?” With exaggerated patience, Todd would tick them off. “Gotta gas the car, stop at the auto shop for some parts, and return one of my dad’s tools.”

When he returned, Beth met him at the door. “Those errands shouldn’t have taken more than one hour. You’ve been gone two hours!”

“Big deal, Beth. Give it a rest, will you?”

“What else did you do for a whole hour?”

“Will you stop it? It just took longer, okay?

“A whole hour? What did you do with a whole hour?”

And the fight would be on.

“When Beth did that,” Todd says, “I felt like I’d gotten myself another mother who wanted to control my life!”

To Todd, Beth’s mistrust seemed completely irrational. And only recently has Beth been able to verbalize her insecurities. “Because I had never been able to trust anyone, I never trusted Todd, and was insanely jealous whenever he went out. I just knew he was only biding his time until someone better came along.”

Todd also felt hurt and angry. “Beth said she loved me but wouldn’t let me be close to her. One of my biggest peeves is people who glibly say words like ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I love you,’ but don’t show it by their actions. She seemed really cold, as if she wanted to hurt me, but I couldn’t figure out why. When I tried to be close to her either physically or emotionally, she seemed to throw up a high, thick wall that I couldn’t possibly get over or through. I couldn’t understand what I was doing wrong or why she didn’t trust me . . . no matter how hard I tried.”

Both Beth and Todd worked in the local factory producing RVs — recreational vehicles and camping trailers. As they drove to work one day, Beth said quietly, “Todd, why don’t we get some marriage counseling? All this fighting. . . .”

“Counseling? What are you talking about?” Todd said defensively.

“Well, we could find a minister or. . . .”

“Are you kidding? I don’t want to go blabbing to some stranger about our problems.” Todd could hardly imagine telling a minister his wife wouldn’t even take her clothes off in their bedroom. “Our problems are our own business. Besides, all we need is some time. We can solve our own problems.”

Looking back now on his refusal to get help early in their marriage, Todd says, “That could have been one of the biggest mistakes I ever made.”

In spite of saying they could solve their own problems, Todd felt helpless to do anything about the marriage. So he busied himself with his hobbies — restoring old cars and drag racing his ’68 Camaro. His pride and joy was a 1930 coupe which he was restoring to be a street rod. But the macho man wrestling the motor from the Camaro into the classic coupe was mostly a facade. “Inside I felt like I was lying bruised and broken at the bottom of a cliff with no one to throw me a rope to help me out,” he now admits.

“Instead of talking to Beth about our problems, I tried to bury all the hurt and loneliness inside. But then the pressure would build like a volcano, and I would finally explode. Sometimes I lost my temper over the simplest tasks. I couldn’t figure out what was going on.

“Sometimes I lashed out verbally, trying to hurt Beth as badly as she was hurting me. It seemed more important to keep the score even than to be kind and understanding.”

His tactics worked. “When Todd would say, ‘You’re just like your mom,’ ” Beth says, “I felt like he was taking a knife and twisting it inside me. I cried and apologized and promised to change, but I never did. No matter how badly I wanted to, it was so much easier to stay the same.”

Destructive marriages “take no prisoners” — both spouses go under. Like two drowning swimmers, they push each other under to gasp for air themselves.

Every marriage has “third party assistance.” Healthy marriages use God’s love directly and indirectly. The third party helps communication, understanding, and love to flow. “Third parties” can be interests, activities, family, or friends.

In dysfunctional marriages, both spouses tend to erect a wall of protection around their wounds — but it also shuts out God’s love. Whatever functions as “third parties” tends to blame, isolate, and breed bitterness. Each hour of division over the checkbook, the car, kids, or work puts another stone on the wall. In time, the only relationship left is the shots that are fired back and forth.

Their love for each other pulls them together; their inability to relate pushes them apart. The wall maintains the status quo.

Todd’s love for his cars helped him overcome some of the loneliness he felt; even more important, his mechanical obsession helped him cope with the temptation to stray away from a difficult marriage. When some of the women at the factory flirted with him, he concentrated more time on the cars to get through the tough times.

While Todd tinkered with his cars, Beth cruised the malls and antique shops, trying to make herself feel good. “But lots of things made me feel that Mom was right — I wasn’t good enough for anything or anybody, that underneath I was just a slut,” Beth says. “When I was seven I was molested by the man next door who babysat me, but when I tried to tell my mom, she didn’t believe me. So I thought it must be all my fault.

“Then, after I’d been married for eight years, I was raped by a man I met in the park. I was looking at a log cabin in the park, and he was, too, so we started talking about this log cabin. Then the man made me get in his car and he raped me.”

Why didn’t Beth tell anyone about the rape? “Because no one believed me when I was molested as a child; why should they believe me now? And I thought it must be my fault because I was talking to this man.”

To make matters worse, Beth got pregnant from the rape. In a panic, she took out a $3,000 “loan by mail” to pay for an abortion. “After that,” says Beth, “it didn’t take long for things to get out of hand. It was crazy . . . charge cards, more loans, a second mortgage on the house (on which I forged Todd’s name). I started falling behind on all payments, and the whole time Todd never knew about it. If he needed money I just didn’t pay a bill, so he wouldn’t know.”

This compulsive spending went on for five years after the rape and abortion. “I felt dirty,” Beth says sadly. “I wanted to make myself feel better. But I was sinking deeper and deeper into depression trying to keep it all from Todd. I kept thinking, If I should die Todd could handle all of this. I didn’t want the job any more. On the other hand, I was terrified he’d find out and then he’d know everything. I didn’t have anyone to talk to, and I felt like I was losing my mind.”

One day Beth left a letter in Todd’s truck at work saying they had to file for bankruptcy. Todd was in total shock. “They’ll take everything unless the debt is paid off?” he asked that night, swallowing hard.

Beth nodded. She couldn’t speak.

For Todd, there was only one thing to do. He found a buyer for the 1930 coupe he had so painstakingly restored — 10 years of love and sweat poured into a dream he’d had since childhood. It was the only way he knew to prevent having to sell everything else. But he knew full well he could never raise the kind of money it would take to ever get it back. “I almost passed out watching it drive away,” he says.

“I can’t describe the guilt I felt,” Beth says. “When the new owners took the car away I stood in the kitchen and cried uncontrollably. It was the most awful thing I had ever done, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself.”

In spite of the trauma of having to tell Todd how badly she’d mismanaged the finances, however, Beth was relieved. “I felt like someone had taken a huge weight off of me. Now we could start over.”

Starting over.

Everyone longs for a clean slate. The Graham’s bankruptcy brought light to one spot . . . but darkness still abounded. Both Todd and Beth were still in pain and their ways of coping were still unknown both personally and maritally.

God knows about clean slates and starting over. Old ways want a new day. God’s loving grace points toward truth, understanding, repentance, and forgiveness. But Beth and Todd haven’t found the key or opened the door — yet.

Todd knew Beth felt terrible about having to sell his prize car, and he thought she might try harder to make up for all the hurt he’d gone through. But within a few months she seemed even more cold and distant than before. What’s going on? he thought.

They had both left the RV factory several years earlier to work in a wood-furniture shop. Then Todd was transferred to a different shop across town with the same company. He felt frustrated when he heard that the shop manager where Beth worked had started harassing her sexually.

“He thinks just because I’m not there now he can. . . .”

“Well, it’s better now,” Beth said. “Bill’s been sticking up for me, telling the shop manager where to get off.”

Bill was Todd’s best friend. They’d met at the wood shop, and the two couples had been friends for about eight years. Todd felt better knowing Bill was there to protect Beth.

But he soon became suspicious as Beth talked about Bill more frequently. Once she even said, “What would you do if we weren’t married, Todd?”

One day, frustrated by Beth’s cold shoulder, Todd spat out his suspicions. “What is it, Beth? Do you and Bill have something going on?”

She hesitated for a moment, then said, “Yes.”

At that point, says Todd, he felt like a piano had been dropped on his head. “My body went totally numb, and I came close to passing out.”

Todd could barely force the word out. “Why?”

Why? Beth wasn’t sure why. They hadn’t done anything physical. All she knew is that Bill made her feel pretty and equal because he’d walk beside her and look into her eyes when they talked. Todd always walked several feet in front of her, making her feel like a peasant scurrying to keep up.

When the numbness passed and the pain set in, Todd acted. “Sad to say, I let my marriage get to this point before realizing I needed to do something drastic if I wanted to salvage it. I decided upon counseling.”

Beth had already started counseling with a local minister. Todd called him for a separate appointment.

“From the first counseling session my eyes began to be opened to what I had been doing to make Beth’s life more miserable. All this time I had been focusing on my gripes: Beth was always yelling or nagging at me, she never wanted to make love — that was a biggy — I didn’t know about the money screw-ups, she was always suspicious when I went out, asking me where I’m going to be, how long, giving me a time limit . . . I had a list a mile long!

“But the way I reacted was to get even. I constantly accused her of being just like her mom, because I knew she despised her mother and that was the worst thing I could say to her. I called her names and said other cruel things just to make her feel bad. In general I did nothing to build up her self-esteem, and did a lot to keep it pretty low.”

Armed with his new insights, Todd tried to change how he related to beth. "But she seemed to distrust me even more. She just couldn't trust the way I was behaving. Sometimes she purposefully did things to try my patience, either to test me or get me to give up."

Beth, too, was confused and miserable. “I know now that in order to have a healthy relationship you first have to feel good about yourself,” she reflects, “and I sure didn’t. Everything I touched seemed to be a big mess. I knew something major had to change. So I decided to move out.”

Beth announced she was leaving the day before Todd went for his first counseling session. After two hours of venting his feelings and reliving past events, “My eyes were opened,” he says emphatically. “I suddenly saw things from a different perspective. On the way home I kept thinking, Oh, my God, what have I been doing to this woman all these years?”

When Todd walked in the house, he was confronted with piles of boxes; Beth was really moving out. She was taken aback when he got down on his knees, crying and begging her to stay. “Todd always said he never hid anything from me,” she says, “but I realized that day I had never seen him cry.”

Even though Beth was sure she loved this other guy, she couldn’t totally leave Todd and the kids. “When I got my own apartment, I still went back to the house and even spent many nights in Todd’s bed,” she admits.

This was probably the most confusing and frustrating time of Todd’s entire life. “Beth would act like she wanted me at times,” says Todd, “and then she’d turn around and want to be with the other guy. It was like she was throwing me a rope at the bottom of a cliff, then jerking it up again.”

The same month that she moved out, Bill and his wife (who had been Beth’s friend for many years) got divorced. “I was in heaven, thinking that now Bill and I could finally be together,” says Beth. “Then reality set in and I realized how many people I was hurting. For the next few months I was on an emotional roller coaster and my main concern was how to kill myself.” Her preoccupation led to a suicide attempt. “If I could have gotten the gun loaded, I wouldn’t be here today,” she says soberly.

Beth felt she was losing control and couldn’t handle her life any more. “Who was I? I couldn’t answer that question,” she says. “I had tried so hard to not be what my mother thought I was, and tried to be what everyone else wanted, that I didn’t have any idea who I really was. I couldn’t even make a decision on my own without someone else’s opinion.”

As for Todd, “It was such an empty time when Beth moved out. I got hardly any support from friends and family. A lot of my friends at the factory were down on marriage to begin with. They thought I should just dump Beth. If it hadn’t been for the counseling I would have lost my mind.”

While learning to love takes a lifetime, pushing the pain buttons of our spouse can happen quickly. No one can love us better or hurt us more than our spouse.

The Appeal of starting over leaves us vulnerable to another relationship. An affair is like two children playing house. It looks like a relationship without the reality. Bill energized some of the life in Beth that yearsof despair had drained away. Beth's departure clued Todd into the void he hoped Beth could fill. Their hopes are being formed and coming into awareness. Now both Todd and Beth are starting to answer, "What I want...." The next question is, "How can I get it?"

The life of the marriage rests in the balance. When emotional anguish floods the soul, having a supportive person is so important. We don’t need someone to help us justify ourselves and blame our spouse. Rather the supportive voice needs to provide a path which seeks truth and self-examination, and maintains a confidence that healing can occur and health can be sustained.

For the next several months after Beth moved out, Todd tried to sort out what had gone wrong. “I knew she’d had a rough life with her family, and I blamed a lot of the coldness I felt from her on those relationships. But I still didn’t realize there were things that had happened to her in the past that played an even more important role in our problems. But, somehow, we had never been able to talk about those things, so I just didn’t understand. Looking back now, however, I doubt if we would have been able to talk about them in a helpful way without some kind of professional help.”

In spite of the counseling both Todd and Beth were getting, it was difficult to deal with their problems because of the distracting “third party.” “One day Beth gives me hope and then she does a 180-degree turn,” he complained during a counseling session. “I can’t take it; I give up!”

That night after supper Beth came over and begged Todd for one more chance. She promised to avoid Bill and get more intensive counseling. He agreed, but responded coolly toward her. Later he regretted how he’d acted so he called her to apologize.

The line was busy.

He called Bill; his line was busy, too.

Todd nearly went crazy with grief. Later that night Beth and Todd argued for an hour or two on the phone. What was he to believe? How could he hang on?

The minister helped Todd see that Beth might not be responding well to the counseling because of her distrust for men. He gave them the name of a woman counselor in the hope that Beth would trust her more. Says Todd, “That may have been one of the most important moves in our lives.”

But Beth was so confused and depressed that she filed for divorce before they could see the new counselor.

“On the day Beth filed,” Todd recalls, “I lost every ounce of hope. I felt the rope she had thrown me at the bottom of the cliff had finally frayed to the last thread and snapped.” Filing for divorce seemed the final betrayal to Todd; he told her she wasn’t welcome in the house anymore. He took the day off work and went to the zoo with their three boys. “I kept thinking that never again would we have fun as a whole family,” he says. “It was the most empty afternoon of my life.”

That evening Beth called and wanted to come over and talk. She cried and cried and was very distraught, saying she couldn’t believe what she had done. “Worst of all,” says Todd, “she kept talking about suicide.”

“I felt like I was going crazy,” Beth says. “I didn’t want to be hurting all these people. I didn’t want to be hurting day and night myself. I didn’t want to face my past or think about the future. I didn’t have any hope at all.”

Todd was worried; her eyes were almost swollen shut and she looked like a zombie. He coaxed her to stay and held her all night to make sure she didn’t sneak out.

The next day Beth seemed a little better and wanted to see the new counselor. The counselor could see that Beth was on the verge of a complete emotional breakdown and gave the Grahams all the time they needed that week. “I knew I had problems,” says Todd, “but the counselor helped me see that Beth’s were much deeper and more complex and weren’t being dealt with because the real cause had not surfaced.”

The counselor suggested that Beth go to the Oaklawn Psychiatric Center in nearby Goshen, Indiana, for a three-day psychological evaluation. Beth resisted at first, and stalled through the weekend. She even saw Bill and they talked about her getting a divorce and “being together.” But that weekend she also talked with a good friend who encouraged her to get the evaluation.

So on Monday evening Todd drove Beth to Oaklawn. It was their thirteenth wedding anniversary.

Seeking help is seeking hope. Seeking hope is seeking help. A marriage is a union of two bodies, a partnership. Sometimes one spouse needs special attention, but both must be a part of the healing process. When our bodies are hurt we treat the injured area, but the whole body knows the pain and participates in the recovery.

The desire to die is an acknowledgment that emotional death is already occurring. Like a spreading cancer, a major response and intervention is needed. The counselor did the right thing to take Beth’s suicide hints seriously.

Beth was both ashamed and scared to go to the hospital. She was sure there’d be bars on the window and people swinging from the rafters. But she was so desperate she knew it was her last chance to live.

Oaklawn turned out to be just the opposite of Beth’s fears and she ended up staying for a month. Her many hidden hurts began to surface: being molested as a child, growing up in a dysfunctional family, the rape a few years earlier she had kept secret from Todd. “But answers were also surfacing to help me deal with the problems,” says Beth gratefully. “Some were psychological answers, some were physical ones — like dealing with a severe thyroid deficiency I didn’t know I had which can deeply affect one’s behavior.”

During Beth’s stay at the hospital she also went to an intense therapy week with others who were struggling with “co-dependency” — a tendency to base everything you do on trying to meet someone else’s needs, or reacting to what others have done to you in the past, losing your own identity in the process. “That’s where I finally started dealing with all the feelings I had stuffed about my mom,” she says.

And something else happened: Todd was there. Beth could hardly believe it. “He was there for me every single day for the entire month. Even though there were days I didn’t want to be with him, he was still there. I couldn’t understand why. Could it be that I was worth more than I had thought? Others around me seemed to think so.”

Todd shrugs. “Some people thought I was nuts to exhaust myself going to the hospital every day when so many other things needed my attention. My mom didn’t want me to suffer any more, but she helped me a lot with the laundry and the kids. I knew there were no guarantees, but I wanted Beth to know I really cared about her and supported what she was doing.”

Todd was also continuing his sessions with the new counselor and this helped him see that, even if their marriage didn’t make it, he was doing the right thing. “I wouldn’t have been able to bear losing our marriage in the middle of all that confusion,” he says emphatically. “I wanted to see Beth climb out of this deep hole at the gates of hell, to be able to function and think more clearly. Whether or not we saved the marriage, I didn’t want to be tortured with a bunch of ‘what if’ questions. So counseling was pulling me through the situation also.”

Beth nods. “He took some of the pressure off by saying that no matter what happened between us, he was proud of me for grabbing hold of myself and changing my life around.”

“And I was!” Todd says with a grin. “As the treatment went on I could feel Beth making a dramatic change toward life in general, and even toward me. We took many walks and even had a few romantic encounters — which hadn’t happened for many years. She was still hesitant, and I tried not to rush her, to respect her anguish . . . which I was learning from my counseling was a much healthier way to relate to my wife than continually criticizing, or trying to make her feel guilty, which I had so often done.”

On these walks Todd and Beth started to talk about better days early in their relationship — better days which they had almost forgotten. For Todd this was a promising sign that their hard work was beginning to pay off. As he says, “I began to feel as if the rescue rope had been mended and we were beginning to be pulled up from the bottom of the cliff.”

All during her stay at Oaklawn, Beth tortured herself with the question, “Todd or Bill?” She was strongly advised to put both men out of her mind and concentrate on herself instead. Before she could make peace with the Todd-or-Bill issue, she had to make peace with herself.

Three days before Beth was released from Oaklawn, Todd came for his daily visit and they walked around the grounds, soaking up the warm August sun.

Beth took a deep breath. “Todd?”

“Yes?” There was something in her tone that made him feel a twinge of anxiety. Was it good news or bad?

“I realize now just how important you are to me. I’ve decided to come back home . . . and I want to rededicate myself to our marriage. That is, if that’s what you want, too.”

Todd was probably as stunned at this as when he had learned she was emotionally involved with his best friend. “But this time,” he says happily, “I felt the piano disintegrate harmlessly off me. The old hopelessness was replaced by a joy and happiness I hadn’t felt for years.”

We want so desperately to be loved and to love. But the ways of love need insight. Todd’s genuine concern for Beth’s emotional health and well-being — no strings attached — was a critical key. Finding real answers to her pain was essential before they could begin developing helpful responses to their mutual needs and desires.

As all the hurt and pain of the past came to light, the vicious cycle of misunderstanding, hurt, blame, defensiveness, resentment, and isolation . . . began to slowly turn into self-awareness, clear communication, helpful responses, openness, and trust.

Beth decided to go home and try to work on her marriage — but with a difference. Now she had some handles on the problems and some communication tools she had not had before. At first she was afraid that giving up her apartment would mean losing her sense of being a “separate self.” But with her new understandings, she says, “I found I could give up my apartment without having to give up my independence.”

The first two things she did after getting out of the hospital was to stop the divorce proceedings and quit her job in the wood-furniture shop where Bill worked.

“When she did that,” says Todd, “I knew she’d really moved back home.”

Together Todd and Beth went back to their first counselor, the minister, and thanked him for the path that he had helped to clear for them. And they had an important question to ask: “Would you preside over a renewal of our wedding vows for us?”

On the day they renewed their vows, Todd realized something. “I had always felt that I shared myself completely with Beth — emotionally and physically, with no hangups or limits — for all of our married life. But I was dead wrong. There was one thing I had never shared with her until that beautiful ceremony: I had never cried tears of happiness in front of Beth. But, like everyone else in the room that day, I did. And I wasn’t ashamed.”

One important change is that both Todd and Beth control the money. She even lets Todd sign his own paychecks and actually lets him get into her purse without worrying he will see the checkbook.

In the past, Beth had always lied to Todd about how much things cost, because she “just knew” he’d never let her have anything. One day she stopped at her favorite antique shop . . . and there, standing majestically against the wall, was a Coppes Kitchen Hoosier Cupboard. Beth felt the rush of familiar feelings: she loved that cupboard! She just had to have it! But with a gulp she told the shop owner she had to talk to her husband about it first.

“That in itself was a shock,” Beth says, “because I used to always buy stuff first and tell Todd later, or just bring it home and wait for him to see it, and then tell him we’d had it for a while.”

But this time Beth went home and talked to Todd first. Of course his first question was, “How much?”

Oh God, what do I say now? Beth groaned inside. Lie, and hopefully get it? Or tell the truth and maybe not get it?

Almost before she knew what she was doing, Beth told Todd the total price and the tax. “All of a sudden I felt like I was floating on a white, fluffy cloud way up in the sky; it was such a good feeling! And guess what? That cupboard is in my dining room today and I didn’t lie to get it. Wow!”

They also began doing things together that Beth never thought Todd would do with her. Knowing how much she loves antiques and crafts, one Saturday morning Todd asked her if she’d like to go to the craft mall. She almost cried, thinking how horrid everything had been — and now they were going to the craft mall! That day they held hands as they looked at the crafts and started making plans for their own wood shop.

The changes Todd began to see in Beth during her stay in the hospital continued to amaze him. “I know she still struggles with a poor self-image. So imagine my astonishment one morning when I was still lying in bed and Beth started modelling all her sexy nighties for me!”

Beth laughs. “That was a big accomplishment for me. And of course Todd was in total shock!”

The way Todd and Beth relate to each other has been growing more spontaneous. One morning, while he was washing his hair at the sink, she walked over and grabbed his behind. “I would never have done that before!” Beth admits. “For the first time since we got married I can say I enjoy making love . . . and sometimes with the light on.”

“But maybe the most important change in our marriage now,” says Todd, “is that we don’t try to hurt each other by the things we say or do . . . such as, ‘You’re just like your mom.’ ”

Beth nods in agreement. “Todd has really changed in that way — but so has my respect and love for him.”

Did Todd and Beth have a terrible marriage? You bet! How can a relationship be so attractive, yet get so bad and then be good again? Beth and Todd have given one example.

The relational patterns of marriage are always in motion. Some patterns are vicious circles leading to death. Other patterns are life-giving. Beth and Todd have moved from expecting the other person to meet their needs (a cycle of disappointment and blame) to trying to do things which please the other person and build him or her up emotionally — one of the new patterns that is giving fresh life to their marriage.

Of course not everything is “happily ever after” — that’s only in fairy tales. But at least the Grahams can sit down and tell each other about hurt feelings or disappointments now. If they can’t talk about a certain subject, they wait until their next counseling session. “It helps to have a third party help each of us look at things the other says in a different light,” Todd says.

And Beth admits, “There are still days when I crash and can’t cope. But that happens less often all the time and I’ve learned ways to regain control. I know now I have people who care about me. Besides Todd, I have a wonderful counselor who’s also a good friend. I remember all the people who went out of their way to help me when I was really down . . . which is proof to me that I really am worth something. As long as I keep my priorities straight, I know we can make it.”

It might be tempting to regret all the lost years, but Beth adds, “It’s such a great feeling to really love Todd and actually want to be with him. But I honestly believe that for Todd and me to be where we are today, we had to go through everything that happened. Sometimes you have to grab for that little shred of hope when all seems hopeless.”

Todd feels some of this awe, as well. “With the healing that has come, we are enjoying each other like we never thought possible. There may still be problems awaiting us in the future, but we know now that we can overcome them, because we have beaten tremendous odds in saving our once hopeless marriage. Now we have the tools to work with.”

Sharing their story hasn’t been easy for the Grahams. But as they finish telling their story Todd turns to his wife and says, “Thank you, Beth, for staying in my life.”

Chapter Four

Conquering Constant Conflict

By Stephen Wilke, Ph.D.

Boy, do we know how to fight! Sibling rivalry, generation gaps, turf battles at work, and family feuds. Some fighting we learn, some seems to come naturally.

I like David Augsburger’s list of dirty fighting strategies for getting your own way. The strategies are provided in his book Sustaining Love: Healing and Growth in the Passages of Marriage.[1] I find each strategy brings real experiences to mind. In healthy relationships, dirty fighting most often occurs when we are tired or under unusually demanding stress. In unhealthy relationships these strategies are a way of life. Here they are; focus on yourself while you read:

Timing — catch them off guard rather than choose a good time.

Turf — pick your best turf rather than choose a neutral place.

Anxiety — step up the anxiety rather than set a caring atmosphere.

Fogging — filibuster, fog, and fume instead of communicating equally.

Mystifying — ramble, chain react, confuse rather than be clear and honest.

Generalizing — universalize and exaggerate instead of simplify and focus.

Analyze — intellectualize, theorize, advise instead of admitting pain.

Gunnysacking — save up grievances rather than deal with here and now.

Neutrality — be silent, superior, detached rather than open and present.

Temper — hide anger, then ventilate rage rather than clean anger.

Blaming — find who is at fault rather than practice no-fault fights.

Righteousness — find who is right instead of find what’s right.

Exit — walk out, clam up, shut off instead of working through.

Questioning — use clever or concealed questions instead of statements.

Triangling — pit people against people instead of dealing firsthand.

Put-downs — use sarcasm, jibes, digs rather than share humor.

Undermining — undermine self-esteem rather than enrich self-respect.

Guilt — play either judge or martyr to hook guilt, not responsibility.

Mind reading — read the other’s mind rather than listen, wait, learn.

Delaying — ignore, forget, postpone rather than honor commitments.

I find the list quite humbling. Thankfully, there are also fair fighting rules couples can develop and learn. Several decades ago, Charlie Shedd wrote, Our Seven Official Rules for a Good, Clean Fight.[2] They are still helpful today.

1. Before we begin we must both agree that the time is right.

2. We will remember that our only aim is deeper understanding.

3. We will check our weapons often to be sure they’re not deadly.

4. We will lower our voices one notch instead of raising them two.

5. We will never quarrel or reveal private matters in public.

6. We will discuss an armistice whenever either of us calls “halt.”

7. When we have come to terms, we will put it away till we both agree it needs more discussing.

Notice rule number two. Most of us think fighting is about winning. In marriage, however, fighting is like arm wrestling with yourself. Until differences are mutually resolved, the problem still exists. If conflicts are “quick fixed” with somebody losing, the marriage is more at risk than in an openly acknowledged conflict.

Every marriage can improve. For some couples, just giving themselves a large block of time to spend time together, to talk, to listen, to get perspective away from the pressures of high-tech living can really help. Too many couples try to fit their relationship into the commercials. Their lives are so busy their relationship gets only the emotional and physical dregs.

Others need a new commitment to their marriage, a forgiveness process, and better communication patterns. The best gauge of marital health is whether the conflicts are resolved. If not, the reasons are probably more than a “how to fight fair” list can handle.

Constantly fighting couples cause others to wonder: “Why can’t they get along?” and “Why do they stay together?” The couple’s marriage hangs in limbo: Can’t live with her/him, can’t live without her/him.

This tension has two dimensions. First, each spouse has a strong and profound desire to be in union. Like the God who created us, we are relational by design. Being relational is a given; how we live out our relationships is our choice. Second, a marriage involves mutual agreement and that means mutual dependence. For the relationship to work, both spouses have to be dependable and willing to be dependent. In other words, marriage by definition is give and take.

But give and take is risky. David Augsburger identifies five classic fears in marriage. These fears help set in motion the vicious cycle of constant bickering.

Many people who marry fear being dominated and controlled. They fear losing control over the direction of their life. Any attempt by one’s spouse to influence choices must be combated at all costs.

Others fear being shamed. They aren’t free to be themselves, let down their guard, or share their past for fear of coming up short. Believing that one is unworthy and worthless puts one always in danger of being uncovered. Voluntarily sharing one’s inner self — being vulnerable — is unthinkable.

A third is the fear of being attacked, violated, or criticized. All ideas, feelings, actions, and activities must be carefully screened. One’s spouse (and others) are always ready for “put-downs” or “taking advantage of me.” Being on guard, checking up on each other, and never trusting is the only way to fend off pain.

The fear of rejection and being abandoned lives deep in the soul of many. “I’ll be dumped” if I don’t meet others’ standards. Again, this fear creates an emotional paralysis which dominates the ability to relate. Allowing one’s spouse autonomy is terrifying and being open to input is overwhelming.

The fifth fear is of being out of control and harmful. Parts of us feel like a powder keg. Unharnessed, harmful behaviors and words can hurt anyone in our path — usually those we love the most. Never able to share the source of such explosions, we remain a mystery to our spouses (and maybe ourselves). We must keep others at a distance for their own good.[3]

All these fears roam within us all to one degree or another. For many, the traumas and the trials of life have pushed these fears to the point of survival beliefs. They dominate relationships. They talk us out of even trying to share ourselves. Hearing and knowing our spouse doesn’t happen. Without understanding, little issues, differences, and annoyances take center stage. Poor communication fuels the fire. The fights go round and round.

Perpetual conflict needs a perspective that challenges our fears and assumptions. Couples in the midst of vicious cycles look incredibly hopeless. Like a couple in a canoe trying to paddle through a raging whirlpool, desperation fills their hearts. In this situation we are often blinded by rage and panic. Our only thought is to get our spouse out of the canoe — it must be his or her fault! We’ll go it alone or get another partner.

The key is getting to the side and getting out. Often a counselor is needed to articulate what is happening and reveal the options. After some time on the bank, the couple can rest, view the whole situation, and choose a new direction.

So how did the couples change who have shared their stories in this book? First, they all acknowledged their marital misery. Next, they came to a place where they looked for understanding. Third, they exchanged blaming one another for taking personal responsibility for their own actions, words, and choices. And finally they had third parties in their lives which helped God’s love move freely between them.

“For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through Him might be saved” (John 3:17).

Notes

1. David Augsburger, Sustaining Love: Healing and Growth in the Passages of Marriage (Ventura, CA: Regal Books, 1988).

2. Charlie Shedd, Letters to Karen: On Keeping Love in Marriage (Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 1965).

3. Augsburger, Sustaining Love: Healing and Growth in the Passages of Marriage.

What Is Recovery of Hope?

Recovery of Hope is a program for couples who are experiencing disillusionment in their marriages. Some may be contemplating divorce. The program recognizes that problems and disillusionment are normal in a marriage. However, many couples give up because they do not know what else to do.

Couples register for a three-hour session where a team of three alumni couples share their own experiences of disillusionment and the events and insights that created a spark of hope for them to attempt reconciliation. The new couples then consider their situation and how they are feeling about it. To aid in reaching a decision, a counselor will meet with the couple to help them tailor a plan to meet their needs. The reconciliation plan may include such things as counseling, meeting with a support group, programs for help in planning finances, parenting, and/or any other service which would be helpful.

ROH is based on sound psychological principles and basic spiritual values, along with acceptance and support from volunteers and professionals. It provides a couple with time to review their marriage and make a decision about their future. While ROH is forthright in being “pro-marriage,” participants’ decisions are honored and respected.

If you feel like giving up on your marriage, you may wish to contact the Recovery of Hope Network. To find the program nearest you, call (800) 327-2590 in the U.S. and Canada.