Winning Him Without Words: 10 Keys to Thriving in Your Spiritually Mismatched Marriage (3 page)

From that moment on, I was enamored with God and His Word. I remember carrying my Bible around constantly those first few weeks, because it was like reading the latest
New York Times
bestseller. I suddenly sprang out of bed in the mornings, instead of wanting to hide.

I found a church, dove into ministry, and pursued God like I never had before. Shortly thereafter, my husband bought a Bible. I figured that by just reading it, he would become as enraptured with it as I had been. He’d gone to church sporadically as a child and during college when he was searching for answers in his life. I thought surely he would soon join me in my walk with Christ.

Not so. The Bible wound up collecting dust, and my hope lagged. I would ask him to come to church, but he would always refuse. About a year into my faith journey, my husband finally confided to me that he’d decided he was an atheist. I was devastated. The thought hadn’t even entered my mind that he would make such a decision. And though he’d chosen not to share my faith, he gave me the freedom to pursue my own.

But on Sundays, I would see other families and ache for my husband to come around. Many Sundays I wept, resentful of my husband’s disassociation with my faith. To me, it was my life; to him, it was something I did, like a hobby. I felt alone and misunderstood, and I found it easier to keep my faith to myself than to face the conflicts it seemed to stir in our house. Thus began my journey as an unequally yoked spouse.

We moved to Europe several years later for my husband’s work. I felt confident that this was where God wanted us, and I expected an adventure, which it was until our girls started
school. Our oldest, nine at the time, was picked on, ostracized and even “mobbed.” (What we Americans know as stalking, Europeans call mobbing. Since this time, school officials along with parents have actively addressed this growing problem.)

I railed at God, wondering why He would allow such a thing to happen. I prayed and prayed, but nothing changed. Life became more about survival from one day to the next.

During this time, God taught me His amazing faithfulness. He taught me how to wait, trust and believe. I also discovered a group specifically for the unequally yoked, and I realized for the first time that I was not alone. The group I joined met monthly to share the ache in our hearts. We focused on aligning our hearts with God and living the 1 Peter 3 model of witnessing to our husbands. Together, we studied
Beloved Unbeliever
by Jo Berry and
Spiritually Single
by Marcia Mitchell. Through these books and the precious women I grew to love dearly, God started to change my heart and move my perspective from me and what I wanted to what was truly at stake: my husband’s eternal security.

That’s when I learned to adore my precious husband and appreciate the man who’d taught me more about forgiveness than anyone besides Jesus. I began to realize how this man, even though he didn’t share my faith, had helped me to grow in so many ways. And I learned that I needed to look to God for my deepest needs—not my husband, who was never intended to fill that role.

My husband and I found a sort of harmony in our marriage that embraced a respect for one another’s choices in faith. Over the years, God has continually shown me how to love my husband unconditionally. So much of our past conflicts became the strength of our marriage when we faced a life-threatening crisis with one of our daughters. This strength was the source of our unity when she was diagnosed with a malignant brain
tumor, and it continues to bring us closer as we support each other through her ongoing recovery.

God is teaching me that life is not a problem to be solved but a gift to be enjoyed. I used to think that one day our lives would be free of trials. Now I understand that these trials are vital to our faith deepening and for us to draw closer to a God who loves us more than we are able to comprehend. God lets us go through the tough stuff so that we can each grow closer to being a reflection of the image of Christ. This training allows each of us to be a vessel of revelation to those around us of God’s amazing goodness, mercy and grace and a reflection of Jesus to our husbands.

Sometimes survival is all we can do, and God asks nothing more, but He never intends for us to stay in that place. He wants us to thrive in our lives and in our mismatched marriages. And, ever the gentleman, God leaves the choice to us.

So what do you choose, dear friend? Choose to thrive, because I am so excited to be on this journey with you. It is one of the greatest honors and privileges of my life. This is Romans 8:28 in full swing, the chance to see God bring good—healing and hope—from the sharing of what He’s done in my life. And He’ll do the same for you, because you are His beloved one and His desire is for you.

Get ready to thrive. God’s waiting to show you the way through the pages of this book. I hope that one day you’ll share your story with me and let me know how God brought you to experience His wild hope.

Praying and believing,

Dineen

And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age
.

MATTHEW 28:20

I don’t care anymore. I need to be here, even if he won’t come with me
.

I made a beeline to the nearest seat in the back of the church; I felt the eyes of those already seated watching my determined steps.
Did they notice I was alone
? I quickly flipped the bulletin open, pretending to give it my complete attention; it was the only cover available to disguise my uneasiness. My anxiety over my situation slid into restlessness. I shifted awkwardly in my seat. After a few minutes, I settled down and ventured a glance around me. No one was staring.
Whew!

My lips tipped up in a shallow smile.
I did it. I finally made it to church
. Today was a big day. I had left my comfort zone, and for the first time since being married I had made it to church—and I had gone alone.

As I waited for the service to begin, my thoughts returned to the struggle earlier in the morning. I recalled absent-mindedly applying mascara. I was calm and collected on the outside, yet on the inside, a battle raged. I was desperate to attend church but completely stressed out over the thought of attending alone.
I stood before the mirror and fought to gain control of my growing anger. Sealing the cap of the mascara, I stepped back and glanced across the bedroom to the lump of snoring covers. I seriously toyed with the idea of throwing my hairbrush at said lump in hope that it would inflict bodily harm. However, I steadied my resolve and then walked out of the house, determined not to start a fight or miss church one more week, even if I had to sit abandoned.

For years, my husband had refused to go to church with me. In fact, any mention of church, religion or faith had inevitably resulted in an argument, coupled with pouting, crying and/or manipulation—I’d resorted to them all. I had pleaded with him to be part of this world of mine. But he was adamant: “I don’t buy into all this ‘God stuff.’ ”

Finally, the service began. A silent breath of relief escaped my lips as the praise team took the stage.
Perhaps no one will notice me sitting here all by myself
.

That’s when it happened. A young couple scooted into the chairs in front of me; naturally, they were holding hands. My chest tightened as I watched the man lean toward his wife’s face. He flashed her an I’m-so-in-love-with-you-and-glad-to-be-in-church-with-you smile. I caught my breath and immediately looked down at my folded hands resting in my lap. Emotion welled up from within and ran over me. This couple’s innocent exchange ripped open a pain in my chest.

Suppressed longing swelled out of control and then began to cool into a growing and familiar resentment. All of a sudden, I didn’t like this couple so much. They represented everything I was missing in my marriage. Of course, the unsuspecting twosome had no idea how much I desperately wanted what they took for granted. I yearned to sit with my husband in church. I dreamed of holding his hand or looking up a Bible verse together and smiling over the intimacy of a shared faith.

The service continued. I could hear singing around me, but I was only vaguely aware of it. Finally, I lifted my head as the pastor took his place for the message. I tried to focus, but it was useless. His words floated off over my head, unheard. My thoughts fixated on this happy couple and on what they had that I didn’t.

My loneliness intensified.

For most believers, attending church is an uncomplicated, enjoyable experience. Yet for the spiritually mismatched, our time spent in church can be a giant point of contention and conflict with our husband and even within our self. And it’s not just church. We, the unequally yoked, often feel alone in many aspects of our marriage.

So how is it that many of us who believe in Christ and the Word of God find ourselves in a place such as this, a spiritually mismatched marriage? How can we be married and yet alone? Our struggles are unique when compared to marriages where faith isn’t an issue. But what do we do about the faith gap in our relationship with our spouse?

These are great questions. As we explore the truths of living, loving and thriving in a spiritually mismatched marriage, we will look to God’s Word for our truth. We can depend on the Lord to show us where we are today in our marriage and where He wants us to be in the future. We have a few laughs ahead, some freedoms to discover, maybe a tear or two and a marriage to revive. Are you ready to find the hope you have been missing? Then let’s get started.

Do not be yoked together with unbelievers. For what do righteousness and wickedness have in common? Or what fellowship can light have with darkness? (2 Cor. 6:14).

If you have picked up this book, it’s likely that you are keenly aware of this verse. In fact, you are living smack in the middle of this passage every day. This verse can be a heavy load on your soul at times, yet it serves as a light to truth. So, how is it that women, even believing women, find themselves in an unequally yoked marriage?

There are actually several different paths. In the beginning of this book, I shared with you my story. If you remember, I stepped away from my faith and took the prodigal route. I don’t pretend that I didn’t know the biblical teachings of 2 Corinthians 6:14. I just flat out ignored God’s command and married my unbelieving fiancé, thinking that I knew what was best for me. I was convinced that my man would see the light quickly after our wedding. Dineen found faith as a young girl, yet she also floundered for a period of time. She fully returned to her faith when her girls were little. I find that this is common for many women who married an unbeliever. Becoming a parent often stirs women to return to faith.

During the past several years, women who are distraught over the faith differences in their marriage have shared almost every conceivable story with me as to how they arrived in their mismatched marriage. One woman told me that her spouse outright lied, telling her before they married that he was a believer. Many more have shared with me that their husbands assured them they believed in Christ but after the wedding ceremony, they discovered that their husband’s faith was insincere or was dead.

It matters not how we came to be in our crazy, mixed-up and unexpected marriage situation. What matters is that God desires that we honor our marriage commitment and fulfill our marriage vows through His power and His strength. We can’t do it on our own. Trust me, I have tried.

I assure you that I haven’t figured everything out about thriving in this unique marriage, but I have learned a few things
over the many years of loving Jesus and loving my husband. My journey was difficult and there were many years of confusion, sadness and unfulfilled expectations. I shed many tears along the way. Yet the Lord redeemed every lost moment and hurt. He alone restored my marriage and my heart. I discovered that it is possible to love, live and thrive in an unequally yoked marriage. So today I will make a bold promise to you. If you earnestly put into practice the 10 principals we uncover in this book, God will honor your efforts as well.

God wastes nothing. I am proof of this statement. He took my arrogant decision to marry an unbeliever and worked through it to show me a great number of things about myself and even more about His love, sovereignty and generosity. He flipped my life and marriage upside down, turned me inside out and used everything for His glory and my good. Today, I am happy in my unequally yoked marriage. My husband and I enjoy a thriving, meaningful and love-filled relationship because of Jesus Christ, even as my husband remains a skeptic. If the Lord will do this in an ordinary gal’s life such as mine, He will do it for you too.

At the beginning of the chapter, I shared my story of stepping out of my comfort zone and attending church alone. I wonder if you’ve experienced something similar in your own mismatched marriage. In the years of working in ministry with women who are walking this marriage road, I have found one common thread all of us face at some point: We are lonely.

It’s a strange paradox, loneliness and marriage. We arrive at this desolate place in our relationship, baffled by our spouse’s hostility toward our faith. We yearn for peace to return to our
home, yet we are at a loss about how to restore it. We are bewildered, because our home should be
the
one safe place where we can be our authentic self. We had believed that we would never feel lonely and would always feel loved and accepted. Instead of safety and security, however, what we discovered was the reality of ongoing struggles that result from conflicting worldviews, opposing political preferences and clashing notions of morality.

These conflicts aren’t minor irritants in the skin of our relationship. Our core beliefs are the ideals that make us who we are. In a spiritually mismatched marriage, these core beliefs are under constant pressure and scrutiny. Arguments over faith can be frequent, and they can wear us out and emotionally wound us. After several years of living with the conflict, we may conclude that it is safer to avoid talking about our faith—it’s in our best interest to keep that part of our lives hidden. And the loneliness sets in and grows.