Good morning world. I hope you’re all well today.
Want to hear about how I messed up this weekend? Sure you do. We’re a voyeuristic society. Everyone wants to know about how someone else messed up.
*sigh* Well, that’s pessimistic.
Let’s try this instead: on Time Warp Wife this morning, guest contributor Clare Smith said God places people in our lives sometimes as a warning. We see the consequences someone else is enduring for their actions, and therefore, we are reminded to alter our behavior. I thought the example she used was brilliant. We see someone on the side of the road caught for speeding, and immediately we are 1) thankful it wasn’t us and 2) reminded to slow down.
Let me be your example. Let me be the person that reminds you to slow down and think today.
No, I didn’t get a speeding ticket. I might have preferred that.
First, we all know I haven’t been sleeping. I don’t think anyone who’s glanced at the blog lately could miss the whining about that. Furthermore, I’m not a person who deals with sleep deprivation well. I…need…sleep. Without it, I have a tendency to be kind of grouchy and over-emotional. Sprinkle a little PMS in the mix and you’re really left with an explosive cranky cocktail. Yup…that’s me.
The chapter I read last week in The Resolution for Women dealt with the subject of fulfilling your husband. In it, Priscilla Shirer said she heard Kay Arthur say something once that really stuck with her. Kay said the sum of a man’s fears could be summarized into two:
- Fear of being found inadequate
- Fear of being controlled by a woman
I would say that’s probably pretty accurate. Somehow, though, despite the fact that I studied this last week, took it to heart, and prayed about it, I still managed to screw up rather royally. Apparently, God knew I needed a more hands-on approach.
I had a few very snarky moments last week, but all of them paled in comparison to the verbal sewage moment I had on Saturday morning. Josiah and I lay in bed together, holding on to the last few moments we could before cooking breakfast so he could go to work. And then, in an attempt to be sweet, he did something that actually sort of annoys me. And I told him that…rather obnoxiously. Okay…incredibly obnoxiously. Like many times when we spray verbal venom, it wasn’t necessarily what I said, but the horrifyingly ugly tone in which I said it. Just ugly.
I apologized almost immediately and countless times since then, but that’s the thing about ugly words (or tones). Once you’ve spoken them, you can unspeak them. There’s no eraser for that. In less than 10 seconds I damaged my new husband’s pride and made him feel inadequate. Consequently, things have been different for us the last couple days.
If you know Josiah and I, and you’ve ever seen the way he looks at me (only the Lord knows why), then you might get this, but it’s just been different the last couple days. He’s wounded, it’s my fault, and I see it in his eyes when he looks at me…and that’s entirely my fault.
I had another sleepless night last night…big surprise. I gave up around 4:30 and got up to do my quiet time. When I finished around 5:15, which is when I normally get up, I almost just got straight into the shower. Instead, though, I crawled back into bed with my husband, wrapped myself in his arms, and sobbed. My heart is about as remorseful as I think it can be. He assured me that everything is fine, it’s just going to take a few days to shake it off, but it feels like forever.
All because of haphazardly chosen words and a condescending tone.
Beware ladies. I’m actually lucky because Josiah, like me, wears his heart on his sleeve. Seeing his pain allowed me to recognize the gravity of my decision almost immediately. But many men would hide their hurt behind a wall built with bricks made of their wives’ unkind words, whose hurt wouldn’t be apparent until the wall stretched high and long, an almost impenetrable fortress.
Learn from my mistakes, and remember:
Better to live on a corner of the roof
than share a house with a quarrelsome wife.