This is written by Rachel, my sweet friend and Flying Free podcast sidekick.
I remember looking down at the book clutched in my hands as if it were a life-preserver. The words “Love and Respect” embossed with bold red type. I drank the opening paragraphs with thirst from a parched, confused mind.
This was my new hope. These words were going to be the answer. Everyone at church said so. It revealed a code for the secret to a happy marriage, found from the very pages of scripture! This formula was going to work. This time–I determined with gritted teeth–this would be what fulfilled my dreams for a happy, thriving marriage.
As the author set the stage to unveil his revelatory finding, he gave a small disclaimer in the opening pages. His formula would work, provided that you believe your spouse has goodwill toward you. (I’m recalling this from memory as I no longer own a copy of the book.)
The question of whether my spouse had goodwill toward me gave me pause. He was my husband. Wasn’t goodwill an automatic sentiment that came with “I do?”
I didn’t dare spend time questioning it, because that would lead to a path fraught with problems I wasn’t prepared to encounter. I was incapable of seeing the truth of how my husband treated me with clear eyes.
Instead, I substituted well-known cliches about marriage (“men just don’t do feelings well!”); together with excuses for him (He’s a strong-willed leader who has very specific ideas about the way things should be. What a blessing!”); and projections of my own mindset on to him (“I definitely have goodwill for him! I love him and want to give him everything he needs. He surely feels the same.)
I plunged ahead into the book, casting aside the rotten fruit of my husband’s behavior that indicated everything but goodwill. Behavior that included callous “jokes” about my body and my teeth. The fact that he never once apologized or took responsibility for anything. Ever. His inability to even look me in the eyes. Much more.
I will allow Sheila Gregoire’s diligent work exposing Love and Respect’s flaws to speak for itself here. Suffice to share I’m one of the countless casualties of the book’s faulty reasoning. But it’s simply one in a long series of Christian marriage books that didn’t contain the answers for which I thirsted.
That’s because abusive marriages operate on a different plane. Normal, difficult marriages have two sinful, but self-reflective humans involved. Abusive marriages involve one sinful, but self-reflective human, and one hardened, accusatory human.
That dichotomy of a soft heart subjected to a hard heart– goodwill exploited by ill will–is what makes marital abuse so gruesome.
As a fallible, yet soft-hearted spouse, I did everything I could to show love to my husband the way he told me he needed. Meanwhile, his hard-heartedness subversively exploited that tenderness.
As I implemented new ideas to fix our relationship, I made myself more vulnerable to his desires because that is what both he and the marriage advice told me to do. (“Give more of yourself!” “Marriage is hard, try harder!” “Go on more dates! Have more sex! Cater to his every wish!”)
The hard-heartedness of my husband snatched up these unguarded offerings and demanded more without turning an inch toward the needs that make me human. Instead, he communicated I was always asking too much and I needed to do more and do it better.
The hard-heartedness of my husband mined deeper and deeper into the soft soil of my heart, ruthlessly bent on gaining control of my precious resources for his own gratification.
The juxtaposition is breathtakingly shocking to consider.
My natural optimism pushed me to keep trying harder to do more for him. His manipulative selfishness took it all and scorned my pleas for care.
My Spirit given joy pulled me toward happy expression and light. His calloused contempt shut me down with words of malicious mockery.
My earnest love for him fueled my frantic desperation to make it all work. His self-seeking idolatry ratcheted up his cold-hearted demands.
In exchange for the sincerity and hope that inspired me to give him my best, he gave me ruins. Less than nothing. The dust of countless shattered dreams. Floods of anguished tears.
This was not a relationship. That is why the marriage books didn’t work. Reading those books was like scrutinizing a first aid manual hoping it would teach me to impart life to a rock.
The body of Christ has to wake up to the fact that goodwill is not a guarantee simply because there is a legal marriage contract in place. Hard-hearted abusers do not possess goodwill toward their spouse. They know only their own will, and that is the god they serve. This god coerces sacrifice after exploited offering from the very treasure entrusting herself to his care.
Thankfully, this is not where my story ends. I serve a different God now. He was always waiting, going before me, ready for me to turn my eyes from the false idol that demanded my devotion onto His loving face.
The words I cling to now are about God’s Word made flesh. I read with newly opened eyes from this book that contains strong language about hard-heartedness and oppression of the vulnerable. This book demonstrates how humble service and shrewd awareness of bad fruit is the key to being rightly related to one another.
This book tells of the safest Savior anyone can ever entrust her heart to. It gives me living water that satisfies my thirst for love and rest. No formulas or desperation needed.