THE KIDNAPPING

Only extreme measures could save our marriage

By Bonnie G. Wheeler (Decision Magazine)

Dusk settleD over the empty parking lot as the lights in the building winked out one by one. I watched as a solitary figure locked the front door and shuffled towards his car. The slump of his shoulder told the grim story of discouragement.

I knew my target well, having long studied his routine. He was right on schedule. He opened the car door and dropped wearily into the front seat. Obviously tired and preoccupied, he did not notice me, huddled in the shadows of the back seat. He fumbled with his seat belt and then started the motor.

“Don’t make a move!” I gruffly ordered.

He flinched and then cautiously asked, “What’s going on?”

“This is a kidnapping!” I tersely replied.

Disbelief registered on his face. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

“Never been more serious in my life!” I replied. _________________________________________________________

The past six months of my life read like a textbook case on stress and its cumulative effects. Our family had moved from a metropolitan area to the country, and instead of the anticipated peace and tranquillity, our lives assumed a soap opera quality.

While our family struggled in its adjustments to a new lifestyle, the wettest winter in years helped us discover every leak in the roof of our house. As a result the house was flooded, and the insurance company refused coverage.

One of our children had an appendicitis attack; another was involved in a bus accident; all six exchanged colds and flu like hand-me-down clothes. Then my hitherto healthy husband, Dennis, became seriously ill, and our finances quickly became another disaster as the effects of rising water and rising medical bills took their combined toll.

The doctor told Dennis to avoid stress! Then during his lengthy convalescence, I started noticing personality changes in him, and I took them all personally.

After coping with all the changes and trying to over-protect Dennis from stress, I awoke one morning with a paralysed face. The doctor told me to avoid stress and get a lot of rest! 6

One afternoon, between “storms”, Tim, our eldest son, and I were talking about the calamitous events that had occurred since our move. He suddenly avoided meeting my eyes as the subject of marriage came up. “You know, things have sure changed between you and Dad,” he almost whispered. “All my life I’ve been kinda jealous of your relationship with each other. I used to feel left out. You two were so close that I almost felt like there wasn’t any room for me.”

“And now?” I asked hesitantly.

Tim’s voice was soft – so soft that I had to strain to hear the answer I already feared: “Not any more, Mum. Not any more”.

Both products of broken homes, my husband and I had always set a high priority on maintaining our close relationship. But now, after 20 years of marriage, we were slowly drifting apart and becoming more and more like strangers to each other. Dennis’ work hours increased until there was no longer time or energy for our special dates. The jokes and laughter ended, and the lines of communication became tangled and unused.

During those years of stress, my once-lengthy prayers were often reduced to feeble cries of “Help!” My once-extensive Bible reading was almost confined to a daily Psalm. Shortly after my talk with Tim, I was reading in Psalm 84, “Happy are those who are strong in the Lord, who want above all else to follow His steps”. (I wasn’t feeling very strong just then).

That verse combined with Tim’s description of our marriage, broke through my layers of self-protective numbness. “Lord, I can’t follow in Your steps and I can’t just huddle in a corner, watching our marriage die. But what can I do?”

After my prayer I had the strong impression that the Lord wanted us to go away for a few days. “But Lord! There’s no time, no money. And, anyway, Dennis probably will not agree”. I swallowed hard. “And Lord, I’m not sure I want to go away with this stranger – my husband.”

Again there was that strong impression – Go! Reluctantly I asked Dennis about going away, and as I had expected, he refused. “There’s no time, no money,” he stated.

Still that strong urge to go away persisted. I decided that if Dennis wasn’t going to work with me, I would proceed on my own. With a prayer for our marriage, a deep gulp, and a big step of faith, I took the last of our money, made arrangements for the children, and set out to waylay my husband.

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I moved to the front seat. “You’re being kidnapped,” I announced.

“But . . . what about the kids?” Dennis spluttered. “Church? Your deadline? We can’t afford . . .”

“It’s all taken care of,” I assured him. “And we can’t afford not to,” I added softly. “Now please drive!” Dennis stiffened and I fully expected him to turn around and head towards home. Then he visibly relaxed and drove.

“Celebrating an anniversary?” asked the friendly hotel clerk.

“No,” Dennis answered with a straight face. “I’ve just been kidnapped!” The clerk nervously handed me the room key.

For the first time in months we really talked. Seriously, tearfully, honestly – about our marriage, where it was headed and what we wanted to do about the direction. There were apologies, sobs and choked up voices, but no arguing.

When we finished talking we prayed together with reassurance of our love and renewed commitment to keeping that love alive. We held hands, laughed, and had fun together for the first time in months. We had always known there was healing in tears; that weekend we learned of the healing in laughter.

Monday morning our alarm went off 30 minutes earlier than usual. It was follow-through time, and together we made a list of resolutions:  We will talk to the doctor. (We discovered that Dennis’ personality changes were a reaction to medication, not me).  We will sort out our priorities to lessen the stress on us all.  We will no longer ignore danger signals in our relationship.  We will be more aware of, and sensitive to, each other’s needs.  We will work at keeping communication lines open.  We will face and deal with issues as they come up. There will be no more retreating to separate corners.  We will fight for our marriage.  We will uphold each other in our walk with Jesus, realising that He is our stabiliser in times of stress and pressure.  We will study the Bible together and pray daily.

Morning by morning we reconnected the lines of communication that had been severed by months of stress. We still “step on each other’s toes” occasionally, but there is no more retreating from the issues. We deal with them as they come up, and we just keep on working at it until we are once again back in step.

The other evening Tim caught us cheek-to-cheek in the kitchen. “Hey, you two!” he exclaimed, “I’m starting to get jealous again!”