Monday, August 31, 2009

Contemplations of a Young Wife, First Part

My, but I have a difficult time accepting my husband’s help and advice! I was sitting on the sofa a moment ago, stressing about school, how to attack this particular blog post and the fact that the wireless is down. I punched the refresh button to test my luck, eyebrows drawn savagely to a point above my nose. I attacked the button, again and again. Once more, with feeling! After about the tenth time, Chris laughingly informed me that repeating the action was clearly not making the internet work any faster. He reached over and rubbed my knee, saying, “Babe, don’t let it get to you. It is what it is.”

I promptly unplugged my laptop and moved to the bedroom, stewing.

My point in telling you this is not to elicit sympathy; au contraire. I’m poking fun at myself. I stress over uncontrollable things, as if I had the ability to alter them by raising or lowering my angst level. And when Chris steps in to comfort me, BAM! The doors to my civility bang shut, and I become a woman I certainly don’t want to be. I’m pretty sure Solomon had the right idea when he compared a quarrelsome wife to a “continual dripping on a rainy day” (Proverbs 27:15). Frustrating and unrelenting and quite indefatigable.

Something I have to consistently and consciously focus on is reveling in the fact that being married means I'm not alone anymore! Chris is there for me, if I’ll let him be. I’ve come to see that quality men will bend over backward for the woman they love. Wow!

No man can reach a comforting hand through stone doors, though!

Let’s argue this out.

(1) I must remember that if Chris tries to serve me, he wants to serve me. I do him a disservice by shutting him down in an effort not to importune him. As good friend Chase Russell noted to me yesterday, we often bless others by letting others bless us.

(2) I like, and need, my alone time. However, I don’t actually want to be alone in the complete, desolate sense of the word. My husband is a gift, like all gifts, easily taken for granted. It is the dearest honor I know that he both loves and takes care of me (like a Warder for an Aes Sedai…um, excuse me, reader… Robert Jordan fans, holler!).

I intend to never justify nursing my hurt and pushing Chris away by saying, “That’s just what women do. We’re fickle.”
This is what a woman—“an excellent wife”—does:
“She does [her husband] good, and not harm, all the days of her life” (Proverbs 31:10-12).

It’ll take some work if I know myself at all, but I long to glorify God and respect my husband. I don’t have it in me, but God is the one who equips. Wives, let’s commit our marriages to Him!


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