Husband and Wife in Faith?? Will he even come?

”Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.” Proverbs 22:6

“. . . the father to the children shall make known thy truth.” Isaiah 38:19

“My son, hear the instruction of thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother.” Proverbs 1:8

I had not thought of raising children and church myself, let alone discuss it with my husband, of course that is, until it was an issue. I knew my husband was not a church goer when we met. I knew he was an altar boy as a child, but only by parental force. I never thought about how this would affect us as parents or as partners. But I will tell you, when your four year old asks you, “Why doesn’t Daddy go to church?” or claims exemption from having to go because “Daddy doesn’t go”, it quickly becomes an issue.

I started with asking, progressed with pleading, and finally just reached frustrated acceptance. Every week the kids and I would get up, get dressed, and head to church. I was convinced that others in the church thought that I was a single mom. I even began referring to myself as a church widow.

As the kids got older and became more involved, he was seen at occasional junior choir performances or perhaps the Christmas Pageant. Then as I got involved, sometimes he would help at a Pancake Breakfast or other event. The congregation loved his help but knew that as soon as he was done helping, he would be gone.

As the kids grew and learned, they became concerned that Daddy was missing out. They noticed that other families sat together. They recognized my church widowhood and felt orphaned themselves. No matter what we said, it did not seem to make an impression. In fact, it sometimes drew angry responses. I had to ask the kids to let it go, but I did remind them, especially my son, to remember this so that they would be different as parents themselves.
We did convince him to join us on a mission trip to Kentucky. We went for fellowship and missionary work. He went to work, work. He happily swung his hammer. He worked through our day off and used his spare time to do his regular work on his computer. He would even try to skip our evening prayers.

Then God sent an angel. Not a white robed or feathered cherub, but a man. A man that was not afraid to express his surety in God’s presence; A man that became a friend to my husband through scouts; A man who welcomed us into his family and openly shared God plan. The man, Bart, often would say his peace and then apologize for pushing his beliefs onto us. I think he was afraid of offending us, but something about the way he shared opened my husband’s ears. After 15 years of begging and pleading, my husband announced that he was going to come to church with us. I think I actually held my breath – afraid that if I jolted the moment, he would change his mind, but he didn’t. He came to church. He stayed after for coffee hour. He discussed the sermon. Next week was no different. He came again and again. People at church actually started commenting about his attendance. Kids that had gone to Kentucky with us actually commented about his attendance to the minister. They were inspired that such a man’s man could swing a hammer and be a part of the church. I no longer had to cajole him. He was now the first one ready and often pushing us out the door.

Our church has a strange tradition of “closing” for the summer. Technically we just exchange with another church. We go to another church in July and the other church joins us in August, but truthfully most people stop attending when school gets out and don’t come back until after Labor Day. When the first summer came after my husband started coming, I thought that my dream had ended, but the angel interceded again. The idea of “ending” church was foreign to his family and he refused to embrace it. So we all kept going and completed the summer swap.
And then I knew the seed had found fertile ground when he had to plan a “ticket” (a planned program based around a core idea that develops the self and advances Scouting in some way) for his Boy Scout WoodBadge. He called me from the weekend retreat with his plan. Tears streamed down my face as he explained his plan to increase his understanding of Protestantism and to bring his belief in God to Scouting. At that moment as I listened to my husband describe his ticket, God reminded me that things don’t happen in my time but in His and that truly miracles still happen.

Since then, my husband has attended a Bible study course, encouraged us to serve coffee hour for the congregation, and looks for ways for us to help at the church. He requested an audio version of the Bible that he could listen to on his commute to work. He even goes to church on weeks that I may be unable to and comes home early from camping to make sure that he and my son make it to services. I no longer have to fret about the message that my son is receiving from his father, because my son has seen the blessing of a father leading his family in faith.