Being married to God

Hosea's log, stardate February 9, 2001.
Almost seven years before I started this blog.  I was thirty-nine years old.  So was Wife, or almost.  The boys were four and two.  This was also ... I think ... back when we were attending church regularly.

Earlier today I was poking around in some of the old files on this computer and found something I wrote thirteen years ago.  It was addressed to Wife, but -- as will become obvious -- I never, ever, EVER intended for her to see it.  Pretty clearly, I wrote it in an attempt to come to terms with the turmoil in my own mind, with my anxiety and chronic anger.  I was clearly trying to sublimate it, to make (if I could) something beautiful out of all the violent energy that was kicking around in my head because I found marriage to Wife so frustrating.

In the end, of course, it didn't work.  That's why I'm here now.  But it's interesting to look back and see where my head was.

Damned good thing this is an anonymous blog.  It's hard to imagine how any of you could look me in the face after reading this and seeing how over-the-top earnest I got.  And back then I still loved her too, or thought I did.  That's part of it, no doubt.

Without further ado: ....   

Being married to you is like being married to God.

At the most superficial level, God knows the future while ordinary men do not. But so do you. [This was a reference to Wife's seeming psychism.]  God can intervene in the world in ways that appear magical. But so do you. [Remember she was a Wiccan.]

God comes to light in all the stories as asking people to do things. But God doesn’t ask just any old thing. God demands the best, the ideal. Nothing half-baked or half-assed is acceptable or even considered. God expects and demands perfection of men; whether men can measure up is another question – and of course, as fallible creatures, we can’t – but none of that is God’s concern. God simply sets the standard of measurement and expects nothing less.

All this means that the relationship between God and men can sometimes be stormy. There are many stories of the Jews – for instance – quarrelling bitterly with God, arguing, remonstrating, reproaching. I do not say that being married to God is easy, or serene. Nor do I think it would even be easy for God – and in this one respect, you are more like the Hebrew God than like any of the Greek gods. The Greek gods are capable of serenity, and are fundamentally indifferent to men (though they have their favorites here and there). The Hebrew God cares way too much for that, and is way too involved with his creation. And so he is always struggling, always in turmoil, always in motion; struggling to create the world, struggling with other gods, and always – always – struggling with the stiff-necked, recalcitrant, stubbornly imperfect Children of Israel.

But why? What does he want out of them? Not just to make their lives harder, but – and this is the key – to make them better. And this is what I see in my own life. We struggle, we argue, we fight – but always you are a force for making me better. Always you are a reproach to my flaws and imperfections, a challenge to me to take myself in hand and work – hard – to be better. It’s not easy. It’s never easy for any mortal – flawed, weak, and pathetic as we are – to meet the challenge of a god. But the alternative is to stay forever merely mortal.