Dark Night of the Soul
A few minutes ago I heard my husband’s key in the door. I heard his footsteps come into the bedroom. “Your home,” I said and my husband told me “I’m so sorry”…and I woke up. So here I am, up at 1.57 am blogging because I do not know what else to do.
Very often I would get annoyed when I would hear people whose lives were less than perfect poo-pooh the Church. In my housewife circles it is usually from women who are ticked off at God for having a child with disabilities and/or who does not want more children as a result and hates the Church teachings on birth control. I, who loves the Church teachings on marital theology, would go on about how Our Lady at Fatima said she cannot promise us happiness in this life, but in the next, and about why the teaching on birth control is so lovely. I suppose I lacked charity.
Right now I am wondering where God is. I am hurting so much, I am daydreaming about any activity to make the pain stop: getting drunk, getting high, getting dolled up and finding some guy to charm and hang onto my every word and tell me all the wonderful things I need my husband to be here telling me. I will not do those things, but not out of moral sensibilities or because any of that is a mortal sin but plain and simply because I have children here who need me, who need me to be as stable and present as opposed to absent as possible. I am a little afraid of my sick reasoning right now. No, very afraid because if my children were not here, I would be doing some or all of those activities.
I am starting to wonder where God is. I have been praying and making novenas from the first moment my husband’s behaviour became “odd” to no avail. Yesterday I asked my father the deacon why God is not answering my prayers? Marriage is a sacrament showering us with graces, we attend Church, we have Holy water in the house, we are open to life, how is this happening? My father said that I do not know that God is not answering my prayers and the fact is my husband has free will. Whatever, I thought. So he has free will, so there is no point of praying right? It is just starting to feel like the Church is a made up institution like all the homosexuals in the media of late want us to believe. Although I think a necessary one to truly keep us in the direction we should go in, but I am wondering if the Mystical God part behind it is real. I am starting to think not. Like that “he has free will” thing is the answer people pull out to logically prove God is there when He is not.
It is Sunday morning and in a few hours I have to get the children up to go to Church. I am not sure where we will go or when. I cannot bear the idea of going by myself with the four children, especially the two youngest who are quite rowdy. Something we did as a family with routine and stability. Now it will be a supreme chore, and I am not sure how to get through it. I do not want to go. How childish is that? What a big baby I am being and I cannot get out of my own emotions and tunnel vision. If God is real after all, why would I even take the chance of denying myself the graces? The only thing that will get me to Church later is the “if” because I am not sure of anything anymore.