Something is nudging me

I attended Christian boarding school and then Christian college. In 7 years I participated in approximately 1200 chapel/church services. I led Bible studies and played my guitar for gatherings full of adolescent angst and ecstasy. I was the chaplain for my dorm, and I received a scholarship in recognition of my "Christian Leadership." After college I married and started a family. We attended church on Sunday morning, and often on Sunday evening as well. I took the kids to the Wednesday morning Bible study for young mothers and on Monday evening I led a women's Bible study. I was on committees and we participated in the young adult Sunday School program.

And then I got divorced.

It was during the divorce that I started to separate God, Jesus, Spirit from the scheduled events of a religious community. My friends turned their backs on me and even our pastor didn't want to get involved. I decided to hunker down and I imagined a huge wave crashing over me and I waited to see what was left when it receded. What I found was a very thin layer of hope, but I no longer knew what to call it.

I chose not to raise the kids in a church community after the divorce. We talked about Jesus and God. We prayed at meals and before bed each night, but we didn't discuss sin, or guilt, or rigid rules. Instead we talked about love and acceptance and kindness and forgiveness and how it felt inside when we knew we were making a poor choice. As the kids got older one was drawn closer to a spiritual life - seeking out information on her own she started to read the Bible and even attended some services and youth groups with friends. She has gone on to find an identity with the Society of Friends (Quakers) - a practice that her ancestors have followed for 300 years. Her brother found his passion in science, and God and Spirit no longer made any sense to him. He considers himself a pacifist and he has a strong moral compass, but he doesn't understand the concept of faith - to believe in something there needs to be hard evidence of its existence. They both watched their friends who were "raised in the church" - kids who competed on Bible quiz teams and never missed church camp in the summer, as they have "strayed" and made some very poor choices and in most cases have become angry young adults who over-indulge in all of the forbidden activities (alcohol, sex, dishonesty). Meanwhile, my two have managed to make it through the torrent of adolescence, balancing carefully, jumping from rock to rock without falling in. I feel blessed.

Fast forward...we find the protagonist of this story nearing her fiftieth year. After a second marriage and divorce she is now married for the third (and final!) time. The intervening years have seen her return to the Quaker practice of her early life (pre-boarding school) and then drift away from that again. She has participated in Dream Quests and Wild Women Weekends in the wilderness -she has consulted animal medicine and Methodism. And now she is married to an atheist.

When I met my third husband it was right in the middle of the G W Bush years. It seemed that every encounter with another human quickly turned to issues political and our relationship was no different. I decided at that time that political and social compatibility were much more important than spiritual compatibility. Besides, I didn't know what I believed any more and I knew that whatever it was, it was personal whereas the political issues were in our face day-after-day. We decided to accept each others belief, or lack thereof. I had a few requirements, like he could not use the "F-word" and "Jesus" in the same sentence, and especially not in succession. We dated for 3 years, lived together for 2 years and then married. Throughout this time I have kept my spiritual life shoved out at the far reaches of my consciousness. I attended Quaker Meeting once and proceeded to sit there sobbing as I mourned the loss of a spiritual practice. But I have chosen to spend Sunday mornings at home with my husband rather than in silence surrounded by folks my husband will likely never meet and certainly will never understand. And this seemed to be working for me. Until now.

Recently I have felt a constant nagging at my core. I have discovered the Camino de Santiago, an ancient spiritual pilgrimage across Spain. I long to make that journey and have developed a habit of reading blogs written by pilgrims and others whose lives are touched and changed by the Camino. I am finding a new joy from reading the writings of other seekers and when there are quotations from the Bible, I am comforted. One blogger has posted You Tube videos that include organ music in cathedrals and when I hear the resounding hymns, I weep.

But how do I share all of this with my atheist husband? He seems angered by anything spiritual and truly believes that only crazy, or very stupid people "can believe this stuff." Next fall my husband and I will be in Spain and will visit places along the Camino - locations identified as "powerful" because of the spiritual energy that can be experienced there. What happens when a seeker and an atheist visit a "powerful place?" What kind of energy is experienced? Is it possible to be spiritual and maintain an open, loving, supportive relationship with an atheist spouse? What happens to a relationship when one partner connects with Spirit and finds a community of like-souled people in the process? Is it possible to spend a month or more on a pilgrimage across Spain without your spouse, and maintain a faithful, close marriage?

These are the questions I will explore in the coming days, weeks, months - the entire second half of my life perhaps. My marriage is my priority, but I cannot not deny Spirit when it is nudging me harder and harder each day. Where did this come from? Where will I find a practice that feeds my soul without starving my marriage?

For now I will wonder and listen.