Flesh is made of fibres...

What strikes me, every once in a while, is the generally sad state of marriage. I mean, I do marriage counseling routinely as part of my practice, that's pretty par for the course. That alone is enough to make people really skeptical about the potential beauty and utility of a good, solid marriage. The craziness that goes on in the privacy of people's homes sometimes downright amazes me.
However, I rationalize, those are PATIENTS - they're coming to see me because their lives are so nuts and they hope that I am able to apply some healing balm to the brokenness of their homes. Sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn't, and sometimes there's a lot of debris left over afterwards, in the form of children, finances, homes, relationship, all broken. And for those that survive the shock and trauma, sometimes the scars and wounds that are left run deep, even if, for all intents and purposes, the 'face' of the household looks like it's back together. Sometimes those scars continue to dog the marriage long after they've decided to keep at it.
What breaks my heart even more is when friends tell me, in confidence, of the state of their marriages. I've noticed it tends to be Christian men who are more honest to me about the state of their marriages. I'm not entirely sure if, for women, there's too much at stake, that they've invested too much in being the princess to their Prince Charming that they cannot admit (and certainly not to a woman who is unmarried, though, honestly, I've seen enough in this world to develop an ennui of 'just how bad it could be') that there is something up. Perhaps the admission that they are not happy, because, as women, we invest so much of ourselves and our identity in our relationships, it is an admission that there is something wrong with us.
At any rate, the stories come: Good, solid Christian men who come to me to tell me not all is right at home. That they struggle often with staying in the home. That they're not sure how to navigate the brokenness of their wives. That they're reluctant to bring children into the world for this reason. That the relentless push for a husband to 'be the spiritual head' is oppressive, and their mistaking that as to have to bear the totality of the blame and the shame in the couple. Of the fights. Of the disappointment and eventual acceptance that this is all the satisfaction that they will get in this life. Of the loss of the passion and light in their lives. Of their second guessing their lives, wondering how they'd ended up with this person for the rest of their lives. It saddens me when they unburden themselves of these terrible secrets. Why me? Probably because partially I do this for a living, partially because I'll never speak of their situations to anyone, partially... who knows?
But I pray. And I pray. And I do see, when I look around the pews, those who are unhappy, but will not admit it either. And I wonder, how can we support those who need help, if they cannot ask? All I can really do is pray for these friends, pray for them, I'm sometimes not even really sure how, and pray that they can make right decisions...