Reaching Out

It seems as though I'm not the only one feeling the need to do so lately. I came home this afternoon to find Mo (who has been home sick with an ear infection the past two days) on the phone with "our" pastor -- yes, the one we haven't spoken to or seen since July. Mo had called him, reached out to old friends whom we haven't touched base with in some time. There was no specific reason for our falling out -- it just sort of happened. I left for "home" in July. . .and upon my return, spent some time with Mo and skipped church. And then skipped again. And then football started and we got busy and . . . .

Excuses.

I stopped going to church because I felt like a fraud. Standing there, praising God, telling people that I believed He had some sort of "plan" for me. It felt fake, artificial. One Sunday I found myself completely unable to even mouth the words, let alone sing along. And so I stopped going.

In the past few months, Mo has made some comments about how he misses church, misses the people and the positivity. I let those comments slide, occasionally hinting that I didn't feel quite the same way, but never quite verbalizing exactly how confused/angry/alone I felt.

One day, we had an argument. Mo mentioned that I wasn't behaving in a very "Christian" way. I retorted that that was all well and good because I didn't know if I was even a Christian anyway. "Oh, my, God. We've got some serious issues!" he responded.

You think?

The funny thing is that for a very long time, it was my belief in God and in His "master" plan that kept me and Mo together, that kept me staying when most wouldn't. I believed in marriage, in the sanctity of it, believed that God was using it to mold and shape me. I even believed that our infertility served a greater purpose -- one that someday we would come to appreciate.

I don't believe that anymore -- but I'm still here. Granted things are better now than they were then (although some of you may find that hard to believe), but there are times when I wonder what exactly keeps me here. Is it love? Loyalty? Desperation? A combination of the three? Or some other reason altogether?

I know we're not the first couple to face what we're facing. Some people choose not to fight, or choose to finally stop fighting. Others choose to battle it out, hoping to emerge victorious. For those of you who have chosen to stay in a difficult marriage, what keeps you there? How, exactly, do you keep a marriage going through its darkest days?

And most importantly, what do you have faith in, when you no longer have faith in God?