changing the sun

Funny how moments of revelation can light upon you in the strangest places. So there I was, early on Saturday morning, after the husband stormed out of the house (not forever, just to go for a run, but stormed out nonetheless), feeling like I couldn't stand the oppressiveness in the house anymore.

I hated the thought of getting on with the day -- making Saturday morning breakfast for the kids, checking their homework later in the day, reassuring them with a smile when they whispered, "is daddy still angry with you?". The daily routine seemed empty and meaningless after he had angrily pronounced that he had enough of all this, and I didn't ask what he meant by "all this" for fear of hearing the answer.

I know some of my aunts, and friends too, who have shouldered their way through empty marriages for years. I know they felt that preservation of a family unit (or at least the facade) was important for the kids in their growing years. Me, I can't imagine the effort it would take, to pretend to carry out family obligations (visits to -in-laws, family holidays, visiting friends and relatives during Chinese New Year, hosting Christmas parties) as a family unit.

I left the kids still asleep in their beds (my mom was at home) and, feeling rather dazed, walked aimlessly out of the house, to our little town centre.... and ultimately, in search of a little solitude, found myself on a bridge over a busy arterial road, weeping over the bougainvilleas that were planted all along its sides. (It probably says a lot about an urban Asian society that of all the people who walked past me that morning, nobody stopped to look back at the sight of a grown woman leaning over the railing of a bridge, weeping salty tears onto the cars and buses below. Not that I was contemplating the obvious; oh well, maybe only half-contemplating it.)

I then realized that I have always put my husband at the centre of my life. In a way, I am probably as infatuated with him as I was when I was seventeen, and in the first flush of love. All other aspects of my life orbit around him -- my work, my kids... Maybe that was the reason why I found it easy to give up my career -- ultimately, it would make things easier for him at work. So I worship him, in a way; and the worship of an imperfect being holds a fatal flaw. Everything around collapses when my relationship with him falters. It's akin to the sun burning out in our solar system -- nothing else can be sustained.

I decided then that my universe had to be realigned. No longer to be subject to wobbly human relationships. As a church-going, cell-group- attending Christian, I am ashamed to say that cognitively, I knew that God is supposed to be at the centre of all things, but in my heart, my husband is the sun in my world.

Having decided to realign the universe (at least internally), I returned to my house. After all, the kids would be waking soon, breakfasts had to be made, and laundry had to be hung out. Even if I was doomed to an empty, indifferent marriage, there was meaning and happiness to be found in other aspects of my world. And come what may, putting an immoveable, constant God in the centre meant I could count on my universe not to collapse around me.

At home, a surprise awaited me -- the washing machine was empty, the laundry already hung flapping in the wind. Maybe this was a secret sign that changing my sun was a good idea -- who else but God could make an angry husband do the laundry?