Inspired by The Poisonwood Bible, My Life As a Watch Tower Missionary and Tales of Truthful Jehovah's Witness Wives:
I pray God will forgive me. I hate my husband.
Once I was crazy about Nathan. We vowed to serve the Lord together, wherever that should take us. "Wherever" became a little town in the Midwest called Montrose, population 496. Some of the old folk we met had never been more than ten miles from where, on their front porch, we had first become acquainted. I sensed - call it a woman's intuition - that we needed to sit a spell and let these dear, humble people warm up to us strangers. I have learned to love them, even if they don't accept our version of Jesus. Our version ...
Nathan, so zealous for the Word and the salvation of all whom we met, would charge headlong into the day's sermon, no real thought given to the listeners' inability to grasp the heady message of the Kingdom. When I could tactfully slip in a softening word or two about Jesus' love and compassion, I endeavored to do so. Well, the so-called wrath of God, I imagine, would be a mere tempest compared to the squall that invariably came down on my head after our departure. My husband merely glowered during the course of my tiny intercessions; I was still in the safe embrace of our householders' company. It was the volley of harsh rebukes that scorched my ears once we returned to our car. I tried to reason with Nathan, attempting to explain my understanding of the Scriptures. Berated and beaten down, I learned to keep my place. Eventually. The submissive wife ...
When we were courting my beau was so sweet and considerate. He listened respectfully to my opinions (not that I really had many) and offered his point of view on this or that matter. It seemed, most importantly, that we both loved God and wanted to serve our fellowman. It seemed so simple. It was not.
Nathan is - how can I put this? - righteous overmuch. Unyielding. He cannot fathom another's reluctance to accept immediately and unquestionably the obvious benefits of the Good News now and for the future. It's so clear to me that the simple (but dear) folk of a rural populace, cut off from the world at large, are unable to comprehend that the world is soon to end in a fiery cataclysm. I know they watch television and see the news: the world is dangerous and scary. Something's about to blow. Does that mean that their tiny view of world events should necessarily bring them to the same conclusion as Nathan? Namely, that God is soon to intervene and their salvation hinges upon obeying Nathan's God.
I've learned to keep my own counsel though it grieves me. I honestly feel that God gave all of us - and that includes us women - a spirit of courage but also a sense of compassion and reasonableness. Likewise, it troubles my conscience to remain silent, whether alone with Nathan or in the company of others, teaching them the Bible. Nathan, thumping the Good Book vigorously, holds sway and I let him.
I said I used to be crazy about Nathan.
Now I'm just crazy. I have no idea if my husband and I are worshiping the same God ...