When Marriage Lessons are Hard

I sat squirming in my chair during Sunday School. We were visiting a different ward, so David and I were able to attend the adult Sunday School class together. We knew what the lessons topic was going to be about, so we were prepared for the potential discomfort that could arise from the topic of the day.

The topic for discussion was on eternal marriage, and divorce.

A "fun" lesson for a divorcee and a widow, who just got married.

I began to squeeze David's hand, to make sure he was doing alright, as the comments during the lesson became a little piercing for us personally. He sat there like a peaceful rock of confidence. But I continued to anxiously squeeze his hand very hard, perhaps more for my sake, than for his.

Enduring the divorce-comment-discomfort in class was new for me, but it was not an unfamiliar feeling. It was the first time I could feel the sting from comments directly about divorce, and the devastation that can come from it. This topic is now a reality -- much more near and dear to my heart -- as the effects of divorce have become a new element in my life, through marrying David.

However, even though the divorce-dialogue was a new prickly feeling for me, I am personally very familiar with the puncturing pain that can come, from uncomfortable comments at church. As a widow, there have been many times where I have wanted to walk out of class. There were times when my heart was breaking in sadness and grief, and the lessons were just too close to home, or some comments became too painful, while sitting in such a vulnerable state.

Over the last 5 years of widowhood, I only left class once. All of the other times, I endured the personal pain quietly, saturated in tears, in my seat of sacred soul-stretching sorrow.

Church is a beautiful place of peace; but it can also be a place of pain, because of the imperfections of the people.

But the pain from the people, does not have to be a bad thing.

Surrounding ourselves with imperfect people can be for our good!

We all need each other.

I have learned that church is a place for diverse and deep spiritual-growth experiences and feelings, it is not just a place for peace. Sometimes the most powerful lessons permeate the heart, when accompanied by sorrow and suffering caused by others. We learn so much from going to church, even when the learning comes from harsh exposure to the thoughts and insights, from our fellow imperfect followers of Christ.

In fact, I believe we each take our turn in being the one who might ruffle the feathers of our faith-filled friends, that flock to church. We are all learning, and growing together. We are each spiritual fledglings, over eager to fly, despite the fact that our "flight feathers" have not developed yet. We are all awkward and inexperienced. But in order to grow, and fly, we must also be stretched -- sometimes to the very end of our limits -- so that one day, we can fly away from the nest, and return to our Heavenly Father.

Those around us -- even those who test us the most -- will help us to grow and become who we are meant to be.

Yesterday, at church, there was certainly a great advantage to being prepared for the lesson ahead of time. We knew the sensitive topic of marriage and divorce was coming, and so we were both on spiritual high-alert.

With David's experiences from divorce, and with my experiences as a widow, we could potentially become offended -- under a much larger emotional umbrella -- by questionable comments in class, based on our combined union of temperamental triggers.

When it comes to marriage and family, we certainly do not have an "ideal family" situation. What we have now, with our combined family dynamic, was not something we ever planned on experiencing in this life.

We do not have the ideal, but what we do have is delightful.

The wrath of death and divorce, has been swallowed up in the Divine.

As the Sunday School lesson progressed, and the unkind comment regarding divorce begin to dissipate, that is when David decided to raise his hand and speak. The teacher of the class was phenomenal, perhaps one of the best I have seen, and he brought the Spirit into the classroom in a beautiful way. He handled all of the comments and questions with grace and kindness.

The teacher asked if anyone had an experience with asking the Lord, "What lack I yet?"

At just the right moment in the lesson, David began to speak in his gentle way. He briefly mentioned that he was divorced. He then expressed how much he loves his children. He talked about how making the change in what we lack is often not a physical challenge, but more of an emotional one. To really let go of what keeps us from fully following the Lord, requires great humility. David had a very deep and personal experience with the Lord, when he asked, "What lack I yet?" in a humble way.

Tears slipped gently from his eyes, as he expressed that he is doing his best to love and take care of his family, with help from the Lord, even though it is not the ideal. His hand was shaking in mine, but his voice and words were clear and vulnerable, and my love for him grew even more.

Directly after class, a sweet woman came right over to David, and with tears in her eyes, she thanked him. She said her mother had been visiting that day, her mother had been through a divorce, and she did the best she could to raise the children. I had noticed her Mother's tears throughout the class, but I did not know why she had been crying. It all made sense after the tears and the sweet hug from this girl, who was so grateful for David's willingness to be vulnerable, and share his personal and real feelings.

He was able to touch the hearts of those who needed it most.

I am so grateful he was willing to open his mouth, and speak from his heart.

I fully believe if we speak from the heart, like-hearted people will feel it too.

It really is so important to be sensitive to those around us, especially at church. We cannot completely avoid offending others, but I think we can all be more gentle. I know I can do better. We do not see the sorrow that is held so carefully in the smiling faces around us.

We each have vastly different life experiences, that create little targets on our hearts. We have vulnerable places that can be pierced and wounded by thoughtless words and actions. Sometimes it is hard to be patient and respond to offense with kindness, but it is always the better way.

If you are sitting at church, and your heart is pounding out of your chest -- because you are feeling something piercing your heart profoundly -- do not be afraid to follow the Spirit, and speak.

Someone else might be waiting for you to rescue their aching heart, with the comfort of your shared feelings.

I have learned over the years that our best defense against offense is the Holy Ghost. The Holy Ghost can fill our hearts with love for God, and love for our neighbors. That love acts as a protectant shield to the heart, helping us to see and love others more clearly. We may still feel the initial sting from harsh words and actions, but with the help of the Holy Ghost, the dialogue-daggers need not create a festering spiritual flesh wound, that won't heal. If we are humble, we can use that protectant shield to shelter the hearts of others too.

So, when lessons are feeling a little hard at church, speak up!

Share your pounding heart.

You might just be the answer to prayer.

You might just change a life, or two.

You might just bring someone closer to Christ.

And that is what church is all about.