SUNDAY SERVICE-PART TWO

Featuring: A family that prays together stays together.

Sunday Service — Part Two

I had made a commitment to God, and to myself, not to miss church unless I was genuinely sick.

That Sunday morning, my husband woke me. I was tired and unwell. Still half asleep, I heard him murmuring softly:

“Maybe this is one of those mornings when she needs to stay in bed a little longer. She works so hard. Maybe I should make her some tea or coffee and leave it beside her. I hope she wakes up before I have to leave.”

Then he asked, “How are you feeling this morning? Shall I make you a cup of tea before church?”

“I’m tired, and I don’t feel well,” I told him. “Could you go to church for me? I believe that when you and the children go, a part of me will be there too.”

He made me hot tea and left it beside me. Before he left, he reassured me:

“I know you usually make their breakfast and give them a bath. Sometimes we switch because we help each other. Today, I’ve got you. Stay in bed as long as you need.”

Before he went, I shared a thought I had been carrying for years. I told him that sexuality is spiritual, and that when two people become one, what one person does can affect the other—even when they are apart.

“I’ve observed that when one spouse commits adultery or another sexual sin, the other spouse may feel a disturbance too,” I explained. “Even if they aren’t doing the same thing, they may feel urges or turmoil. It could show up in a dream, through an unexpected exposure, or as feelings and hormonal changes that are more irregular than usual.

“If that person is spiritually strong, they may resist acting on those urges, even while feeling unsettled. If they aren’t strong, they may fall into it too. Then, when the couple meets and talks, they may wonder who started it first. From what I’ve observed, they may discover that one person began first and the other followed without knowing. I believe spiritual influences can pass through that oneness and affect the bond.”

My husband said, “You preach too much.”

“I know,” I said, “but this is something I’ve thought about for years. I don’t just say things without observing and thinking them through.”

“I hope you’ve validated all of this,” he said. “I hope you’ve researched it and thought it through, and that you can explain your claims.”

“Of course,” I replied. “Trust me. I don’t say something without spending years thinking about it and observing. If you don’t know that about me, come closer. Look more closely. Pay attention.”

He shook his head. “You’re speaking in riddles. Can you explain it a little more? Sometimes I find your teaching a bit much, and I don’t want to hear it. But I think I want to hear this one.”

“Really?”

“First, let me check on the children. What are they doing?”

“They’re watching cartoons.”

“Are you sure they’re all right?”

“Yes, they’re fine.”

“All right, go ahead. If it gets uncomfortable or too much, I’ll walk away. I promise.”

“It’s going to make sense,” I told him. “You’re not going to walk away.”

Then I thought about the Scriptures: two are better than one; one can put a thousand to flight, and two can put ten thousand to flight. Most importantly, husband and wife become one. If a part of one person affects the other even when they are miles apart, I believe that spiritual bond remains.

I believe marriage is a covenant with God at its center. In my understanding, even when one party steps aside, the covenant remains because God remains at the center. I understand the Catholic Church’s recognition of separation as acknowledging that marriage is more than a piece of paper or the appearance of walking down an aisle. The oneness is spiritual; it reaches beyond the physical.

When I finished, we both laughed heartily. He said, “Okay, I’ll run along now. See you later.” Then he kissed me on the forehead and left with the children.

I took a sip of the tea he had made, then another. I was still weak, but little by little, I began to feel stronger. First one arm moved, then the other, and then my legs.

“This is a miracle,” I thought.

I didn’t rush to the bathroom. I took tiny steps because I was afraid I might fall while no one was home. Somehow, I managed to take care of myself, have breakfast, get dressed, and make my way to church.

When I opened the church door, I didn’t realize how quiet and sacred the moment was. It was so still you could almost hear a pin drop. Everyone turned to look. Then I heard, “Mommy! Daddy! Mommy’s here! Mommy made it!”

I paused. Should I sneak to my seat, or walk in as elegantly as I could? I held on to my children. Shyness pulled me toward the door, but courage held my hand. Through God’s grace, and through the joy on my children’s faces, I found the courage to stay. I had arrived during the consecration.

After the consecration, my husband leaned close and whispered, “Gosh, you look stunning. I love the way you look. You look almost edible. Why did you wait until the consecration to come in? You don’t look sick at all.”

He was glad no one had asked where I was, because then he would have had to tell them I was sick. I smiled. The only thing he did wrong was saying it when he did—but it was okay.

After Mass, he asked, “How did you get here? Did you take a taxi, or did you drive?”

“I was strong enough to come to church, but I wasn’t strong enough to drive,” I said. “I was a little dizzy, and I couldn’t risk it. I came by taxi.”

“So, what’s the plan?” he asked. “Are you coming with us?”

“No,” I said. “I want some time out. Maybe I’ll catch up with one or two of my girlfriends. I need to relax and recover. The word is convalescence.”

“Oh, so you want me to babysit the children alone while you go have fun and do your thing?”

“No, no, no,” I said. “You’re spending time with your children. Babysitters are people who get paid to care for children who aren’t theirs. You’re their father. When I feel up to it and stronger, I’ll spend time with the children too—or I’ll clean the house, whichever I’m able to do.”

As we kept talking, I changed my mind.

“You know what? I don’t need to meet all my girlfriends today. Let’s have fun together. Let’s go out as a family.”

“Now you’re talking,” he said. “So no girlfriends today?”

“Not today. It’s you, me, and the children. Let’s enjoy our time together.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Chili’s, Red Lobster, TGI Fridays, or Cracker Barrel,” I said. “You took me to Cracker Barrel when I first started in the military. It has that old-fashioned look, with all those things displayed around the place.”

“What do you think?” he asked.

“Let’s throw a dice. You do the driving, and I’ll give you the directions. I have something in mind.”

As we drove, he said, “You can be a bit much as a wife, and sometimes as a mother. You’re very protective and sometimes overly concerned because you care so much. But honestly, I understand you better now. This side of you is something I missed. With time and separation, I understand you more, and I’m coming to love you more. Please forgive me.”

“Enough, enough,” I teased. “If you keep talking, you know what’s going to follow.”

“What?”

“Nothing’s going to follow. We have children in the car, so your impossible thoughts are impossible.”

“The only thing is, you owe me breakfast and coffee now.”

“Okay, madam. Let me keep driving. We’re almost at Red Lobster.”

“Ah, so you settled on Red Lobster?”
Scriptures mentioned

• “Two are better than one.” — Ecclesiastes 4:9
• “One can put a thousand to flight, and two can put ten thousand to flight.” — Deuteronomy 32:30
• “The two shall become one flesh.” — Genesis 2:24