I like to think of my life as wife and mother as a vocation, but in reality I didn't give God a chance to call me into it. I was already a wife when I converted. The first child was conceived a mere month after I was received into the church, maybe as a natural consequence of giving life back to God. In the tough times I sometimes wonder whether I would have been called into this same marriage to this same man had I been consciously Catholic sooner, with an eager ear searching for God whispers. In the good times I'm glad things have worked out this way.
For a few days I have fought (again, sigh) that loneliness that attends a mixed-faith marriage. I've been thinking ahead to vacation next week and wondering whether it will be a fight when I want to go to Mass on Saturday evening like it was last time we went on vacation. Wondering how I will handle confusing post-partum NFP with a partner who pressures to contracept. Are all these little skirmishes worth it? My husband has begun to mellow on the issue of religion, so it seems that maybe these little squabbles have accomplished something. It's still a temptation to give up and just seek indifferent peace.
And yet we're called to be faithful to our vocations, regardless of our struggles. I do see the loneliness as a gift at times (this was a fantastic read on the subject). When I start feeling nervous and frazzled it's usually because I've made an idol of my husband and I am seeking his approval rather than pleasing God.
All the struggles become worth it when I remember who I converted for. The who in the Eucharist. The who who wept and who was persecuted. I did not convert only to make myself feel good, I converted to give myself to Him who tells me to deny myself, take up my cross and follow him. I ought to ask myself more often, "is He worth it?" He is.
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