My husband has had a spate of success recently, and I’m…nervous?

With all glory to God, my husband recently achieved several professional milestones that have planted a call in his heart; the possibility and excitement of a future mission and new creative undertaking. I feel true joy in all of it.

But here’s another truth. Even in my happiness over his well-deserved success, I, in my poverty, worry: Will any of these dreams and calls come to fruition? Will they take time away from our family? 

Most often and most shamefully, I wonder, Will I ever feel another big, set-the-world-on-fire call? Will it be my turn one day?

Have you felt anything like this before? It’s surprising, and more than a little disconcerting, to be envious of your spouse, in any area of your life together. Maybe one of you is in a season of spiritual abundance, while the other feels in a desert. Maybe your home or work life is easier for one of you than the other right now. Or perhaps family relationships are smoother for one spouse in particular.

“The Lord himself shows that [marriage] signifies an unbreakable union of their two lives…‘So they are no longer two, but one flesh'” (CCC 1605). Reason and faith tell me my husband and I are sacramentally, spiritually united in all things, yet my feelings allow division, doubt, and pride to creep in. I’m quick to dismiss them in prayer, asking the Lord to make my doubts and self-centric worries just go away. Yet I’m often left restless because I’m too fearful to really pray about them. 

I hear Him saying, you have to dwell with these feelings, not close the door to them. Only when you allow yourself to really feel them can you give them to Me.

I suspect that’s where my consolation, and the Lord’s peace, reside. As in so many areas of life, admitting the truth of a situation is the first step toward growth–for me, that includes looking within the uglier parts of my heart, my weaker tendencies like envy, that I’d rather not examine so closely. And then, after a good, honest look within, I need to turn my gaze somewhere else: to Him, and to the Cross. If I spend all my time navel-gazing, I lose opportunities to look outside myself–which is, like, the whole point of the Christian life and the vocation to marriage. 

So I resolve to let myself feel my worries and jealousies, looking them in the eye, and then to surrender to grace, knowing it’s only when I turn my gaze to the Lord that He can redeem them. I resolve to trust more deeply in His goodness, seeking out self-abandonment over self-pity. The Sisters of Life’s beautiful Litany of Trust puts so many of my frequent fears into words and invites me to turn them over to Christ, rather than letting them fester:

From the fear that trusting You will leave me more destitute, Deliver me, Jesus.
From restless self-seeking in the present moment, Deliver me, Jesus.
That Your love goes deeper than my sins and failings and transforms me, Jesus, I trust in You.

Nearly a decade ago, I experienced a sense similar to the one my husband is experiencing now, like a match being struck within me. Ultimately, it led to a thriving ministry and opportunities to travel and create. My husband championed me with a spirit of sacrifice and healthy pride. I worry I’ll fall short of the example he embodied. 

I once heard how Therese of Lisieux fought her temptations to self-reliance and doubt. When the moment came for a certain virtue she felt she lacked, she acknowledged her lack while stepping into whatever situation she found herself in, moving forward in trust that God would provide her with the virtue she needed in that moment. Wherever I’m lacking right now as my husband celebrates so much good, I pray to do the same–to walk headlong into truth, into growth, and into deeper trust. In turn, I pray my marriage bears the fruits of this approach, in a deeper unity between us. 

Ask yourselves today, and I’ll be there alongside you: how can you celebrate your spouse today? May you find true joy in one another in any recent accomplishments–yes; but moreover, in the abiding reality of each other’s personhood.

Lord, show me where I’ve shut the doors of my heart. May all of our earthly achievements and joys bring about your glory. Light the way, and draw us closer, in this life and to your heavenly court.