Apparently, I thought all my misconceptions about and bitterness against men would go away when I found the exceptional man who would be my husband. However, I've discovered that just because I don't apply my stereotypes to Chris doesn't mean I don't still own them.
Yesterday I broke down in a hate-filled fit about how angry guys make me. The spate came out of left field, believe me; I think it scared Chris about as much as it did myself. I felt justified in ranting, at the moment. A few minutes of a clear head and a clear-headed spouse, though, reminded me of an important principle: Though I have been burnt by men in the past, I am not excused from bringing both my hurt and my poor attitude concerning them before a gracious heavenly Father.
Unforgiveness is not exactly a debatable sin (see Matthew 6:14-15), and unforgiveness is my problem, here. I distill the situation, of course; there's much that happened in the whole process involving the wrongs of other people, but unforgiveness is something that I can, and must, personally face. It's cancerous; it causes me to take personal offenses and project them onto the entirety of the opposite sex. For example:
-All guys care about is sex.
-All men are pigs.
-Men can't be trusted.
Horrible! I know hordes of godly young (and old) men who are so respectable as to be, well, an overwhelmingly refreshing refutation to all of the above (Any unmarried ladies reading this, I promise you, they're out there in abundance. Don't give up, don't lower your standards and keep trusting God's sovereignty and love!).
God, grant me both the desire and ability to forgive, and thank you, more than I can ever fully express, for blessing me with a man who is anything but deserving of contempt. Catch me in bad patterns of thinking about men. Teach me how to love all as you do.