A Bitter Pill and a Warm Hug

Big confession: One of the hardest things for me to do is to forgo the temptation to allow other’s mistakes to justify my own failings. If it shows up anywhere, it shows up in marriage. Lucky Jeff! He and I had a crazy busy weekend that predictably ended with a fight over getting the dishes done. Clearly a life or death matter! Given that we were both tired, I would offer that we each made decisions that were informed by our fatigue. Unfortunately, my way of coping with things when I’m tired is probably the most aggressive which often sets off our typical pattern. I get in his face, he withdraws, and we limp along in silence until we have the courage to pursue some sort of active resolution. Hours, days or maybe even a week later. Ouch! This time, I put our silent evening to an early death by hitting the hay.

It was upon waking the next morning that the haze began to clear. It’s amazing what a little sleep can do. In my morning clarity, I had to admit that failing to wash the dishes was not in fact a critical incident. In fact there are people who live healthy and vital lives with a sink full of dirty dishes. Not only was I recognizing that a clean kitchen was not a quintessential lovely household attribute, but at least one part of me was willing to admit that perhaps I had been a little difficult. This admission of guilt hesitantly emerged amidst residual chatter of bitter rantings regarding his "clear" transgressions.

This time, unlike many other times, I made the active decision to attempt to own only what was mine and to leave his possible transgressions between him and God. His potential wrong-doing in no way negated my poor behavior and nobody could own that but me.  Dang it!  And so I bit my tongue and confessed something like, “I know you were tired and I can understand that you may not have been up to doing the dishes. I was tired too, but I expressed that in an unkind way and I am sorry.” The quietness that followed was filled with the temptation to sneak a little critical dig in, but I didn’t. I left it alone and waited. A couple tears rolled down my cheek and my husband turned to me and hugged me with a hug that trumped all other hugs. His sweatshirt felt soft, his body felt strong, (Look out Harlequin Romance!) and I was filled with love. The reward of reconciliation far surpassed the indulgence of keeping score and I was sold on the idea of forgiveness.

“Those with good sense are slow to anger, and it is to their glory to overlook an offense.” Proverbs 19:11

Feelin' Giddy!

I encountered a bit of giddiness this afternoon and thought I might allow a bit of it to spill over to you all (And yes, I do realize it may be necessary to use the term “all” loosely... As in all 3 of you! :-P ). Driving home from a busy day, I was chatting with my husband on the phone and learned that he had finished painting a shelf that could now be re-hung at the front of the house. His words transformed me into a giggling school girl. You would have thought he said something like, “I didn’t think it was possible, but you and your fresh skin are more radiant to my awe-struck eyes than the day I met you.” No, he was merely updating me on the status of a honey-do. I know it’s a bit pathetic, but I couldn’t help it. I simply could not contain the thrill of no more nude brackets shooting out into our front walk-way shouting from the top of their metal lungs, “Look at us! We live with the Verners where projects are clearly started but never, ever finished!”

I don’t know if you have any idea what I am talking about, but as a working mom, it can feel like I’m running up the down escalator. I’m all too familiar with one step forward, three steps back. We mess up a house faster than we can clean it, eat food faster than we can buy it, and dirty laundry faster than we can wash it. It is from within this defeating rhythm that we still insist on adding those special projects, the most recent of which is our ½-painted house (Fortunately, we strategized well and as long as we don’t invite anyone into the backyard, it’s a bit of a secret that we aren't done!). In spite of the seeming impossibility of completing extra projects, I can’t live without them. It’s the extra projects that give me the sensation that I am engaged. I’m not simply sprinting on a treadmill, but I’m actually moving forward. I’m dreaming and daring to try new things. They are the positive thoughts of progress amidst the trials of day-to-day life.

And so I leave you with the following challenge. Can you delay the laundry or ignore the mess just long enough to do something you’d really enjoy? Plant a flower, clean out a closet, write a real letter on cute stationery to a friend. Inspired by news of a soon-to-be finished shelf, that’s what I did. I let the kids occupy themselves with the candy drawer so that I could take a moment to share with you. And let me say, it’s feeling pretty good!