The New Eve (25 page)

“What about you, Brenda?” Susan asked. “What's your biggest struggle with living out the biblical ideals for womanhood?”

Brenda looked down at her card. Her worried hands had bent and folded it many times until its ragged appearance matched her spirit. Realizing this, she folded it deeper into her palm, hiding it for a moment. It was her card, her pain.

“Here's what I wrote,” she finally said, her voice breaking a little as she unfolded her card for all to see.

The group sat in silence. This was a raw moment. Brenda considered her next words carefully. Anne flashed a prayer through her mind.

“The struggles I'm facing began long ago,” Brenda said. “My home was a wreck growing up. Mom and Dad fought all the time before Dad left for good when I was five. That hurt so bad. Still does. In some sense the rest of my life has been defined by that.

“As a teen, I fell for every guy who showed interest in me. Even if I knew better, knew his character was bad, I would find myself quickly pulled into a relationship. And it was always physical. I
so
wanted somebody, and I thought this was the way you made it happen.”

Brenda then shared about teenage relationships that started bad and finished worse. She talked about disappointment, pain, and consequences. She even talked about abortion. She’d secretly had one in a big-city clinic before her twentieth birthday. And even though she’d confessed it to God, she had never forgiven herself.

“My first marriage was about sex and impulse—mostly impulse. You can imagine how that ended. We had a couple of kids straight out of the gate and never synced up on anything. It was total war. We both worked full-time and kept separate circles of friends. Then he started drinking heavily. I put up with it awhile, but when I discovered his other woman, I took the kids and drove until we stopped here in Raleigh. I didn't know anyone
I just needed a new start in a new town where I could disappear and lick my wounds in peace.

“That's when I became a Christian. At my lowest point a stranger talked to me about Jesus, and I believed with everything in me. What happened next was amazing and in many ways freeing. I discovered a new life, made new friends, and found this church, which has been incredibly supportive. Unfortunately, I still didn't know a thing about men. The needs inside me that had driven me recklessly from man to man were still unaddressed. So I continued to bounce around from one bad relationship to the next.

“Finally, I met John. I met him here at church actually. I knew he was the one early on, but we waited awhile so I could prove to myself I wasn't being impulsive again. But look at us, we're a mess anyway,” she said, dabbing tears from her eyes. “I love John and I know he loves me, but there's friction that I really don't understand. I think a lot of the problem is that he won't take charge of the situation. We come to church and we're involved in a small group. But I can't get him to take the initiative in our relationship. It's like he just comes home and retreats to his little world in front of the TV.

“I wish he could be more like some of the men I see at church every Sunday. They're spiritual leaders who seem eager to take on their responsibilities. But I can't get John to do any of those things!”

“What are some of the good things about your husband, Brenda?” Anne wanted to know. “What is he doing well for you and the kids?”

Brenda looked as if she'd been asked to name the secretary to the third president of the United States. “That's funny,” she said, “I … I haven't thought of that in a while. I guess I can't say off the top of my head.”

“Does he earn a regular paycheck?”

“Sure. He hasn't had a sick day in five years.”

“Has he been faithful to your marriage? Is he good to the kids?”

“Yeah, he's steady on those things. Nothing spectacular, but steady.” Brenda started to smile. “I think I'm getting the point. I've locked in on the negative, haven't I?”

“Anybody can make that mistake,” said Anne. “But it's easy to correct. What might not be as easy is for you to seek outside help for your marriage. Maybe you could start by asking another woman who
is
happily married to mentor you for a time. Or maybe you need personal counseling to explore your past and how it might be affecting your relationship with John and how you relate to him. At some point John might join you in that process to develop together some new patterns of relating. The point is, you need to stop
reacting
to John and start exploring some new ways to
engage
him.”

After talking it over for a minute, Brenda got out her battered little card. “I guess it's kind of obvious what my bold move should be.” She scribbled it down quickly.

“That's a wonderful first step!” declared Anne. “And that's something you can do right now.”

When the discussion about Brenda's situation quieted down, Tracey took the initiative and waved her card vigorously in the air for all to see.

“Not here, of course. I don't feel left out here. But sometimes I do feel left out of the larger world. I hear people talk about their careers and I can't relate at all. It's not that I have it bad or anything. Far from it. My husband has a pretty good job, so we're making it OK. Besides, I love my family and I know I'm doing important work at home. But I've never tasted what it's like to have a career and prove myself as a professional. I got married the summer before my senior year of college and had my first child a few months after graduation, so I never established the outside-the-home credibility all my friends seem to have. Even my younger sister, who I practically raised, knows more than I do about what it takes to make it out there. It all makes me feel second-class. Does that seem silly?”

“Not at all,” said Brenda. “A lot of stay-at-home moms feel that way.”

“Absolutely. Absolutely!” said Anne. “I often struggled with that when I was on my knees before a cruddy toilet or as I washed the same dish for the ten-thousandth time. So many of the things we do to care for a household can seem menial and mindless. It's easy to feel second-class and insignificant, especially with young kids like yours.”

“Yes!” said Tracey. “Thanks for affirming that.”

“The flip side to all of this,” Patricia reminded her, “is that all those things your career-oriented friends have are not half as life-giving as you're tempted to think. This is a worn-out cliché but it's as true as ever: Money doesn't buy happiness. Trust me. The women out there who seem to you to have it all have their own struggles, worse than you'd guess in many cases. Many dream of a life like yours.”

“I believe that,” said Tracey. “I lose sight of it sometimes, but I really do believe that. It's so easy to look out there in the world and start comparing myself to every girl in a business suit and a glamorous home.” She pulled out her card and a pen as she said this, then showed the ladies her bold move.

“If I can do that and not pay so much attention to the values and images of the world, I know I'll be more at peace. I know what I'm doing is right. I just want
to feel
it.”

“And keep this in mind,” added Anne. “You have a college degree. There's no use letting it die a slow death at the hands of negligence. What was your major?”

“Interior decorating,” Tracey answered. “I loved every minute of it.”

“Good! Why not stay updated in your field by reading magazines, browsing stores, and occasionally going to trade shows? And when a friend wants to redecorate, offer your services. You can do it part-time while your kids are small and then maybe add more work as they get older. I know this is a busy season
of life for you, but it wouldn't take much to keep yourself sharp. And the payoff in the future will be worth the effort.”

Tracey waved her card again and said, “That's very doable and exciting. Thanks!”