These are the words from Bill Gothard. Words that I have heard since I was a child. Words that have made their way into the very core of my belief system and convinced me that because of something I couldn't change, I am no longer worthy of a good marriage. I know that this is false, but I do not yet believe it to be false, and because of that, I am constantly trying not to get too attached to being Mrs Dreamy Eyes. I think there is a word for that...Oh yes. ATI refers to that as a "Stronghold". A stronghold is usually described as a damaging idea that you have allowed to remain in your mind long enough that it takes over and destroys an area of your life, and Satan is usually the culprit. But let's give credit where credit is due. Bill Gothard set up this stronghold in my mind. This has been the focus of several weeks of therapy.
He isn't just responsible for this one though. I am reminded DAILY that I need to pause and correct my way of thinking. Here are a few examples:
When I go to feed the twins lunch I think "Oh! I can't feed them yogurt and meatballs together...wait, yes I can. That's not an actual nutritional restriction."
I have gone without my asthma meds before because I didn't come from a broken home, so the asthma must be all in my head.
Tampons don't take your virginity.
I forget to get the mail all the time because I forget that I have the authority to get it.
I hate metal hangers because Bill Gothard had a classic illustration he would use about a married couple who would fight over the metal hangers the husband would leave on the door knob, and after a while, the wife had to learn to deal with this "source of irritation" as a way that God was working in her life to help her love her husband each time she heard the "clanging hangers".
But my therapist has been asking for weeks where I got the belief that I don't deserve to be married to Dreamy Eyes. I gave her many examples ranging from the obvious unplanned marriage, to being an average height redhead with brown eyes who is constantly told that for once I'm with a guy who is way more attractive than I am, to the strict "one marriage for life" teachings of my past. She pointed out that I don't seem to miss anything that went along with the first marriage, but I am stuck on the detail that I am divorced. But today when I found this video with these words it was all summed up in 48 seconds of an evil lie that convinced me that one detail about my past would be the only way I could be defined for the rest of my life.
In a way though, he's correct. Dreamy Eyes is not a nice Christian man.
I already married a nice Christian man. We were married by a Pastor, who held a Bible. A year later, that nice Christian man left. This is not a lament, this is a fact.
I love this picture of the two of us. But I think that Bill Gothard could use it as a fitting example of our marriage. A strong man in his prime, suddenly carrying the weight of a broken woman, covered in dirt from being cast to the side of the road. (He carried me for 2 days before I got an x-ray and learned that my ankle was broken.)
Dreamy Eyes and I got married one morning in our living room, by my cousin (who is a woman). He was wearing the same thing he was wearing the day I met him, because as soon as he kissed the bride, he went off to work a double shift to prepare to care for his family.
But a nice Christian man won't marry me.
He is the kind of guy who will jump on a plane because his friend 1,000 miles away needs help.
But a nice Christian man won't marry me.
He took forever to get his application for medical school perfect because he didn't want to brag about himself. He doesn't think that running marathons or building houses for the homeless is anything special.
But a nice Christian man won't marry me.
He wakes up early so that he can see the girls and climb in the giant bed for family snuggle time.
But a nice Christian man won't marry me.
He loves his parents and talks to them almost every day. He loves how they raised him and he wants to mirror their marriage.
But a nice Christian man won't marry me.
It was extremely important to me to breastfeed the twins. It ended up being much, much more difficult that I had anticipated, but he sat with me, rubbed my feet or my neck, read to me, researched, and did everything in his power to help make it happen. They wouldn't have been breastfed if not for him.
But a nice Christian man won't marry me.
He is trying to figure out the best way to help our girls grow into the strongest women they can be.
But a nice Christian man won't marry me.
His mother says that when he was a toddler and she was babysitting a smaller baby, Dreamy Eyes gave the baby his pacifier because "He needed it more", and that's how he quit his pacifier.
But a nice Christian man won't marry me.
He leaves me notes on the mirror and my hair brush telling me how pretty I look that day. He either refers to me as "Beautiful" or "Gorgeous" every day. It is rare that he actually calls me "Heather".
But a nice Christian man won't marry me.
He has an unfathomable amount of school work to do, yet he still manages to have a job, do dishes, laundry, cook, build forts, change diapers, and read bedtime stories.
But a nice Christian man won't marry me.
When we are walking in a parking lot or on a sidewalk, he always has to be on the outside, so he can protect me.
But a nice Christian man won't marry me.
His shoulders flex when I tell him a story of something upsetting from my past because it annoys him that he couldn't protect me from that.
But a nice Christian man won't marry me.
When he was young and his sister got all her stuffed toys taken away as punishment, he gave her all of his toys to cuddle so she wouldn't be sad.
But a nice Christian man won't marry me.
He has many close female, platonic friends. I was one of them for years. I think they would all agree with me that they have never felt anything but safe when around Dreamy Eyes. He'd never think of pressing his advantage.
But a nice Christian man won't marry me.
Dreamy Eyes is very, very smart. He is constantly reading and cannot rest until he knows why and how something works the way it does. When I (or anyone) find out something that he thought was obvious knowledge, he doesn't make me feel like an idiot, he gets excited about learning and says "And look what else..."
But a nice Christian man won't marry me.
From beers to birth, he has been by my side, and often much closer, at the very worst, most disgusting parts of my life, and not once has he even pretended to mind. He just says "I'm washable" and "You know how I feel about helping."
But a nice Christian man won't marry me.
He has arrived late to an event, covered in blood after (off duty) helping someone who was struck by a car. He spends his free time and breaks at volunteer clinics and similar programs.
But a nice Christian man won't marry me.
He is extremely supportive of my goals, whether it be nursing school, sleep training, or decluttering, he is constantly telling me "Strong work!" and doing anything he can to assist me in my pursuit.
But a nice Christian man won't marry me.
He doesn't like to go out to eat. I do. If we go on a trip, he packs a "fancy shirt" so that he can take me out to dinner. At home he gets food and dessert that I love and we have "spouse dates" in the other room after the babies go to bed.
But a nice Christian man won't marry me.
Every day he puts the needs of his family far above his own. I don't envy him, but I love him.
But a nice Christian man won't marry me.
He isn't a nice Christian man (although his mother is still praying pretty fervently). He is the greatest, most kind, wonderful man I have ever known. I now know that I don't need to see that picture in that ATI sense. I can look at it and see a strong man in his prime, who takes care of those he cares about. A man who takes on more than is asked of him, putting aside his own agenda in order to help heal, protect, and enrich those who need him the most. With forearms like a damn Disney prince.
Note: I didn't publish this a few days ago when I wrote it because I was annoyed at Dreamy Eyes that day. I should have published it anyway. This isn't about stroking his ego. It's about tearing down the strongholds in my mind so that I can stop the nightmares and the torment that comes from years of believing harmful lies.
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