The hidden promise remains glowing in the twinkle of the eye

By Christopher O'Neill
Office of Marriage and Family Life

Imagine a typical married man, say after 10 or 15 years of marriage. He lives with his wife and perhaps a few kids, whom he loves, though none of whom are perfect.

There are problems of one kind or another at school or there are medical issues to deal with, everyday marital annoyances to deal with or just the constant demand of having to take care of small people who cannot otherwise take care of themselves.

He goes to work every day to pay a mortgage on a house that always seems to need something else done – a lawn that needs to be mowed, a room that needs paint, a leak that needs to be fixed.

He has been at his work job for some time now, and, because of his experience, is in a position of some responsibility. It seems he spends most of his time and effort dealing with everyone else’s problems rather than the actual job indicated by his title.

On top of all of that he has his own habits and weakness of character to deal with, his fear of failure and any number of other doubts and worries about himself he carries. In short, he is a man burdened by many responsibilities – some small and others large, but all largely ordinary.

Daily challenges of life

It can be frustrating for him, since he knows he can’t “fix” the problems he has to face “once and for all.” Even if he manages to address one problem, another inevitably crops up. The problems at home, in the family, at work don’t go away, and too often depend on other people and other things that he cannot control.

On the other hand – as tempting as it might be from time to time – he can’t throw up his hands and walk away, either. He knows he can’t control these situations, but he also knows, as difficult as things might become, things would be much worse if he weren’t there doing what only he can do.

So, he drags himself out of bed, day after day, and goes to work doing what he can, to take care of himself, his wife and family, his friends and colleagues, perhaps feeling like it is never enough. He can’t fix everything; maybe it feels like he can’t fix anything. But he commits himself to doing what he can with the hope that by doing so, little by little, things might get better or at least not get worse.

Seeing through the grind

I think this pretty well describes the experience of many of us, men and women alike, who have allowed their lives to be shaped by responsibility for others. It can be a tempting discouragement to see all of this effort and work as an endless grind.

In our discouragement, it is understandable that we might be tempted to seek an escape of one kind or another. Many of us, it seems, fall into all sorts of “escapism.” The world never ceases to offer us an array of distractions that may take our mind off of our responsibilities for a moment. But those distractions never seem to be enough to satisfy us, or worse, can lead us into habits of self-destructive ways of thinking and acting.

I would wager most of us know this discouraging experience, and many have had enough of the emptiness that comes from believing the false hopes and empty promises of the world. Still, it can be difficult to know the way forward.

It can be helpful to reflect again on how we got into this mess in the first place. Where did all of these responsibilities in marriage and family and in the world get their start?

Can we admit that when we first noticed our spouses, when we were first attracted to him or her, and started to pursue a relationship, we had no idea that this is where that would lead?

Perhaps it was her red hair or his beautiful smile that first caused us to notice each other. Maybe it was his kindness and patience or her fiery temper and impulsiveness that first attracted our attention.

The spark was there

Whatever it was, there was something about him or her that somehow made them different from all of the other people in the world, and moved us to want to meet. Can we see now that there was a promise in that smile – a possibility in that temper – a way of life hidden in that kindness that was just beginning to open before us?

It was so small back then, so delicate, barely anything at all – merely a twinkle in the eye, like the smallest of seeds filled with an, as yet, unrealized potential. But there was something that attracted us – something that called us forward and gave us a reason to act. And, because we had the courage and the good sense to respond to it, and to pursue it in a committed way, here we are with our marriage and our children and our work and this whole rich life of so many responsibilities.

Here we are with our life’s partner to help us and to encourage us, our children who delight us even as they make us worry, and our meaningful work that both sustains us and gives us the opportunity to make our unique contribution to the life of society.

Marriage and family life – which is to say life in this world – can be overwhelming, for sure. The difficulties of this way of life should not be underestimated. St. Paul warned us, “Those who marry will have worldly troubles” (1 Cor 7:28). To which we can all respond “Amen!”

But all of marriage’s “trouble” is because of its richness. All of those many, annoying and sometimes overwhelming responsibilities are the result of a life committed in love. This is what happens when we pursue, with our whole heart, the love of our life.

When we let love for this beautiful other take hold of us, we become the kind of people who are able to love our spouse, to care for our children, to adopt greater and more skilled and more competent responsibility for the life of the world. We become better versions of ourselves.

Perhaps that can encourage us. It doesn’t make it any easier, and does not take away the work each of us must do. But maybe, instead of allowing ourselves to become discouraged and distracted, we can be reminded of what is really going on in this sometimes-difficult life God gives us.

Maybe that can give us a little more courage to respond a little more generously and with a little more joy to the life that God, in his loving kindness, has called us to.

Christopher O’Neill is director of the archdiocesan Office of Marriage and Family Life. He can be reached at [email protected].