Being grounded

My husband, bless him, is a well-grounded, straight to the point, practical guy who has more talent working with his hands than I do working only in my head. When I go off on my various flights of fancy, he can bring me back to my body faster than a catholic can make up docrtine. Every woman needs someone like that in her life, which is probably where the old saw “Opposites attract” comes from.


My husband is pagan to my christianity; up to my down; and earthy to my airy. I’ve believed in more impossible things before 10:00 a.m. than he believes in a lifetime. And that’s a GOOD thing, because where I will argue with myself and weigh pros and cons almost ad nauseum, ad infinitum, he will decide immediately or he will come out with some succinct reply and that becomes that. Why didn’t I think of it before? I’d ponder. He will bring up reasonings so plainly that I could not see them earlier. He will suggest and imply, but he will never tell.

Looking back at my hectic, life-long attempt to have faith in God and to have a spiritual community in which to live it out, my hubby brings me back to the crux of the matter; too much familiarity sometimes breeds contempt. This is true in small churches. Once there’s been a big ‘falling-out’ it is nearly impossible to get beyond it, to get back to the issue of faith at hand. Once you’ve entangled yourself in an episode or with a person in church, you are forever equated with that episode. Once you’ve spoken your mind or revealed too much, you can never put it away again from prying eyes. The best advice he’s given me is, “Are you sure you want to stay there?” In other words, are you sure you want to invest all your time, talent, and resources there? Maybe not.
Thank goodness for wise council in our spouses and their ability to recognize when we’ve gotten out of control or the problem has. I thank God every day that he stays married to me, which is not an easy job.