God gave me a stone

In Carrion Comfort, Hopkins alludes to a Biblical passage in which Jacob wrestles overnight with a stranger. Neither can get the upper hand, but Jacob is left with a limp. Hopkins interprets Jacob’s struggle as a metaphor for his own, and in the morning after the struggle, both Jacob and Hopkins understand that at its core their struggle was with God.

It will be clear to readers of this blog that I approach my failed marriage from a Christian perspective, and yet that presents more of a challenge than a comfort. I hope that my story is relevant to all men whose wives have left them, and that my Christian faith does not obstruct a feeling of solidarity about such loss. But each of our stories is unique and it is inevitable that mine is infused with God.

On the surface, the breakdown of a marriage is a struggle between husband and wife, and as I have written before, I have been intensely hurt by H and angry with her mis-use of me. But like Jacob and Hopkins, I recognise that beyond (beneath?) my grief is a struggle with God who also seems to have mis-used me. It seems to me that God has led me into this mess and my anger about the whole situation is directed at God perhaps as much as at H.

Jesus once said “Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for fish, will give him a snake? If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him?” I prayed earnestly for years during my 20’s that God would help me become a good man, fit for the right wife. I was willing to never marry if God saw that to be best for me. When H and I were considering marriage I fasted for 4 (or was it 5?) days because I knew it was such an important decision. But if God guided me at all through that time it was to lead me into a commitment that has ended in this debacle. The marriage God seemed to have given me has been a cold, hard stone that has provided no nourishment.

Jesus also said “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness for they will be satisfied.” I may be arrogant in the extreme, but I claim the same standing as Job who, especially in Chapter 31, claims he is blameless. I have sought after righteousness since early teens. But I am nowhere near satisfied.

I am *not* claiming that since I have been so good (ha!), God owes me something in return. Whether I deserve better or not has no bearing at all. My complaint is that I have not found God’s self-portrayal to be accurate. I have believed in a God who cares for me personally; who has my (and your!) best interests at heart; the good shepherd; the ideal parent. I have entrusted that God with my complete allegiance.

What’s more, I have, at numerous times in my life, given that God permission to do whatever God pleases with me. I have prayed John Wesley’s radical Covenant Prayer and put myself at God’s disposal in many other ways. So perhaps I have only myself to blame.

But why didn’t God warn us before we were married? Why, when H and I had the very best of intentions, did God not mediate between us to fulfil the apparent intention of marriage? Why does it seem that God is now leading H away from me? How can any of that be good for me?

I no longer believe that God looks out for my personal interests. It seems more likely that although God cares for all people, the complexity of reality makes it impossible to bring about everyone’s best interests and in this case I have become the fall guy carrying the consequences of H’s best interest. Of course I write from the limited perspective of someone in the middle of the shit. God can yet bring some good out of it for me, but that’s evidence of God’s ability to redeem even the worst situation, not evidence that this miserable agony is in any way good. God has not delivered what Jesus promised.

—Nat