Even then...

What do we do when God's gifts don't come to us pretty?

I find it difficult to tolerate negativity and ungra

tefulness. It's my pet peeve, if you want to call it that. It makes my soul twist inside of me and my heart literally constricts. I get that, "Something is wrong here." feeling. And I know what it is - because complaining about our lot is complaining that God isn't good enough. That He failed us. And if our God is one who fails... where does that leave us? Doesn't it mean that we then try to order and drive things all on our own?

"Never be sympathetic with the

soul whose case makes you come

to the conclusion that God is hard.

God is more tender than

we can conceive."

~ Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest

When I hurry to grab my gratitude journal and jot down something Joel said or did, or how a moment just came together unexpectedly and perfectly, it can feel kind of crazy. I'm giving thanks for my son's laughter? For the giddiness that fills our house when Daddy and Son are screaming, "Attack!" at each other and colliding in the hall in a fit of joy? For early mornings when I am able to pull myself out of bed and have quiet time with Jesus and a glass of iced chai? For fuzzy socks from a best friend that make me feel loved just by skimming them over my toes? Am I making little out of the larger... or is the little making the larger seem, well, not so big?

For instance, death feels unfair. It always, always feels unfair. It feels that something precious is torn from your heart and will never, ever be returned or fixed or healed. It feels so cruel. But doesn't death seem cruel and fearful when we view it outside of Biblical perspective? What is death, really? Death is an easing of all the crazy here on earth and finally, ultimate peace in Heaven. And not only that, but those we feel we have lost forever, they are not gone forever. They are waiting for us and we will never be apart and there will be a day with no more tears. (Revelation 21:4)

We tend to think as pain as a curse, as a hateful judgement - when in reality some of that is part of life and life is ordered by God - and so we are either loved all the time or not at all. We pick and choose what we are thankful for, but God doesn't give care and then turn away. He's steady and consistent. We're the ones who take the good things and call them good - but then are dealt the bad and consider it something that missed God's attention and just shockingly fell into our laps, onto our shoulders, to bear.

Even as Job suffered tremendously in the Bible, he would not say that God had failed him. He may have admitted that it hurt. He may have told God he didn't understand. But he refused to give up on the ultimate goodness of God. Even in the grief of losing his children. Even in the shocking display of unbelief by his own spouse. Even in the face of friends who wanted him to accept blame for his wounds, as though everything that occurs to us is in our hands. We don't always control (or are to blame for) our futures or our blessings or our struggles. God has ordered things, not only for our ultimate good, but for His ultimate glory. Job said it perfectly, "Should we accept good from the Lord and not bad?" (Job 2:10)

Should we?

We say we should. We say we know that God is love and God is good and that we can trust in Him. But when the really bad, the really ugly, the really hurtful happen - what do we do? Do we not complain in such a way that sounds very much like cursing the God you claim who loves you? What kind of witness is that?

What is different about Christians is not that we go to church on Sunday mornings and Wednesday evenings. It's not that we take food to new moms and shut-ins. It's not that we donate coats or school supplies or sing in the choir. All those things may be the outpourings of God's Spirit on you - equipping you with a voice to praise or hands to serve or handiness with a hammer and the ability to make repairs. But those who don't trust God can do nice things for others, too. They can hold doors open and smile at little kids and donate to the Salvation Army bell ringer.

Those "good" things aren't exclusive to Christians.

What is exclusive to us is that even in death, we can rejoice. That even when the doctor insists you come into the office to talk versus hearing the news over the phone, we can trust. That even when babies get sick and live in a hospital room or when pregnancies don't make it to the delivery room or when car crashes change life as we know it - when all the scary happens, what is ours as God's people - what is ours to claim - is that God is in control of it all. If we only focus on the terrible, it's really going to be hard to imagine that God is sweet on us.

What builds trust in any relationship? Isn't it the little things? Don't you start to fall in love when you begin to realize all the ways that person is showing you they are faithful? That they choose you? I remember being in awe of my boyfriend (now husband!) who drove 1.5 hours to get my car started so I could make it home for the weekend. I remember sitting in the driver's seat, bawling my eyes out when he said, "Okay, try to start it - push on the gas." and I just kept thinking, "This is love, this is love." When someone goes above and beyond, especially in the little things - it takes us by surprise. Wow, he noticed? Wow, she appreciates that I didn't forget? Wow, they believe in me?

When we were first dating, I flipped through the calendar pages and counted until I knew what day would mark our 100th day together. And on that day I gave Aaron a small stack of cards that I had made for him, each one written with a different thing I loved and appreciated about him. And there weren't tons of big, outlandish things. It was all the little things he did - like asking a best friend to deliver flowers to me at 10 p.m. because I was having a hard time. It was buying me KFC after a Purdue football game when I had a migraine and was sick from barely having eaten all day. It was picking flowers for me at the park while he waited for me to get home.

And when I count daily blessings - I build and build onto how great God is to me. Listing praises, day by day is not something I do because I have to or because I feel like it's so very "Christian" of me. I do it because I want God to know I see. That I'm paying attention. That I'm doing my best to learn what it means to "pray without ceasing" (I Thessalonians 5:17) and to "give thanks in all things" (Ephesians 5:20). I'm writing out what He does and how He provides and how He heals because in numbering it all, I see how very much I am loved. I see how very much everyone is loved.

"People want the blessing of God,

but they will not stand the thing

that goes straight to the quick."

~ Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest

The tough pill is never easy to swallow. Saying you trust God with your past, with your future and with your right-now, doesn't mean you're giddy 100% of the time. That's not authentic. Being vulnerable, however, is very real and very glorifying. It's okay to say something hurts or that you don't understand. It's okay to say the day was hard and unexpected. There is a line between taking our cares to God and simply complaining or giving up or constantly saying that what you're dealing with is worse than anyone else's battles. The bad thing is, complaining is really easy and we can be negative out of habit. It is one thing to be like Job and to say, "These sores are driving me mad." and to want it to go away. But it is another to give up on God... or to assume, or to allow your words and despair to imply that He has given up on you.

Its hard to look at the deep ugly and believe God was there. That He saw the train coming and didn't do anything to stop it. Life in this sinful world is still life in this sinful world. Things are not going to be fairytale here and our expectations are out of line with reality. Just because you love God doesn't mean you get a free ride through life. It doesn't mean pain didn't happen or won't happen. And maybe it won't. We can't go through life either expecting the other shoe to drop any more than we can go around complaining that we lost a shoe. It is what it is. There has to be an acceptance of what is so that you can see the God who is. So that you can see how His grace covers you all the time. How He carries. How He loves.

We either choose to number life by the bad that happens or by the good that is. We either hang tight to all the ways and situations where we've felt let down or disappointed or harmed or we give thanks in all things. There's not really a gray area there. You can't trust God in only the good times any more than you can be faithful to your husband only when he's being thoughtful and romantic. We may be disappointed if he forgets our anniversary, but we most likely won't walk away from the marriage. You can learn to trust and to give thanks even when right now is less than ideal.

And more and more I think that's what following Christ - what being a Christian - is about. It's not about being perfect and shiny or volunteering until you're exhausted. It's not about never being weak. It's not about never asking for help or admitting that right now is really, really heavy on your heart and your shoulders. But doesn't God tell us He will bear our burdens? Doesn't He tell us to take His pack and carry, because it's light? (Matthew 11:29) If we trudge on and on, dragging our sorrows behind us - is it not our own fault on some level? Are we not doing this thing of negativity and unnecessary sorrow and prolonging healing to ourselves?

I may not always feel like giving thanks in every situation. But I want to learn. I want to do better. Not because it's going to get me to some holy, holy level, but because it draws me to the heart of God. Because in recognizing and noting all the things that are and maybe the things that have been, I count grace. I count mercy. I count forgiveness. I count love.

And when the really ugly happens... doesn't it always help, somehow, just to know you're loved in the middle of it all?

"Above all, look to Jesus Christ,

your Intercessor, and ask yourself,

while He pleads, can your

Father deal ungraciously with you?"

~ C.H. Spurgeon, Morning & Evening

Mother of All

I thought of something this morning as I put my toddler down for a rare (but obviously needed) morning nap.

Mothering has absolutely nothing to do with pretty. It has nothing to do with things like Pinterest (and if you don't know about Pinterest, well, it's essentially everything beautiful, organized, clever and basically better than anything you are possibly doing right now, all in one mind-boggling space). And I'm gleefully addicted to the crafts and the sweater combinations and the perfect paint colors for that someday dream home. But if you're not careful, it can cut into your heart and make you feel that everything around you is too simple and everything you do is too base and everything you feel is too novel.

The past few mornings I have awakened early. I had originally set my alarm and then about thirty minutes before it's set to go off, I turn it off. I figure I'll wake up when I'm ready. Well, I have noticed a trend this week: God has let me know when He's ready for me to be up. And thankfully I have been able to control my body and not allow it to sink back into the cozy confines of my bed. I have had showers before anyone in my house even knew a new day was upon them. I've had quiet time while it was dark and calm out, before the school bus even arrived next door. I've had coffee and iced chai. I've sat on my couch and I've sat on the floor at my coffee table. I've read. I've written. I've begun my day.

It all has felt very Proverbs 31 of me and I've been a little proud of the steps I've taken that have me looking anything like a wife, a mother, who has it all together. Like the way I'm "supposed" to be.

Today started off promising, but even though I was up before 6:15 a.m. today, with my devotionals in my lap and my journal and pen at the ready, my toddler decided to pull an early morning wake-up. And refused to go back to sleep. I was thankful that he quieted and whined the least little bit that allowed me to still have some semblance of focused alone time with the Lord, but then our day started at 7 a.m. That's not what I had planned. Plus, I have a fairly detailed to-do list for today and it did not include a two-nap day. I had planned it around a one-nap day, post-lunch. But a two-nap day for my son is what he needs.

And as I tucked him in just before 8:30 a.m. and turned on the sound machine, closed the door and went to start a load of laundry, I felt peaceful. And I thought, you know, gaining patience has nothing to do with praying for it. People will joke, "Don't pray for patience!" because the assumption is that if you ask for patience, you will only get trials. But if you really want to learn patience, then you are, in a way, going to want trials. Not that any of us want harried days or hardships or broken hearts... but it's how we grow. And either we're sincere about wanting to grow up and be better - or we're really only saying we want "patience" because that's what a perfect woman, wife, mother, Christian would do. Pretty on the outside, ugly on the inside.

And when I prayed with my toddler over his NutriGrain Bar breakfast while he stared at me and pointed at the TV, it wasn't perfect, but it was right. And when I pulled him on my lap for a morning devotion, I read calmly and patiently even though he was eagerly looking for pictures on the next page. It wasn't perfect, but it was right. And when I admitted my impatient attitude and my inward seething disappointment of how the day was beginning, it wasn't pretty at all, but it was right. There's no perfection in making mistakes, right?

When I was younger, in my teens, I used to joke, "Imperfection IS perfection." And I wanted desperately for someone to agree with me, not just laugh because they thought I was silly. I wanted someone to say, "Yes! You are exactly right! Boo to the expectations and gloss!" But no one did. And so it made me feel like I was only looking for a way out. An excuse to not try harder, stretch taller, get up earlier, do more, be more.

Could beauty really be seen in the imperfect? Could I be loved if I wasn't a supermodel look alike? Could I be a good writer even if I didn't go to college? Could I be a capable wife someday even though I felt so lacking and small and so unnoticeable? Throw me into my early thirties and motherhood is only terrifying when? When I allow my expectations - those ideals of perfection and clean bliss - to override reality. It's all stress inducing and full of anxiety when you're convinced you're suppose to do it all (and in skinny jeans!) and you just can't. You admit you can't but then you see everyone else who seemingly can and where does that leave you? Shipped off to the Island of Misfit Toys. Scared to death someone will notice that you're not doing it all and so painfully, scarily convinced you're supposed to.

If I show up in a sweater to a Christmas party, it's okay. I'm not Barbie. (Maybe pregnant Barbie?!) If I can't make cookies from scratch for that Christmas get-together, that's okay. I can buy some. If I can't get my house spotless before we leave for the weekend, it's not the end of the world. If there's dust in a corner that I just couldn't find the time for because I was too busy reading and coloring and playing Play-Doh with my toddler - that's more than fine. And even though it feels like the easy road - is it not a better way? Is it not more important for me to spend my time, my heart on the human beings right in front of me? It may not be magazine pretty to be in my flannel pants all morning, but if it makes it easier to crawl on the floor and chase and wrestle with my son - is that okay? Isn't that pretty, too? Why do we feel we need permission to do what's right? Why are we so afraid that someone is going to peer in and take note of what isn't done and somehow ignore the sincerity and love that is?

I could people-please myself into the grave. There have been seasons when I very nearly have. When I've been so burdened by just trying to make someone happy. Make it work. Keep it together. Heck, I even nearly wrecked my own health trying to be skinnier than God intended and no one thought, "You look so healthy!" They asked me if I was okay. Perfection is cunning and tricky and a lie. You think you're aiming towards a noble goal but all you're grasping for is the shorter straw. You're going to come up empty and not understand why.

You get to choose things like patience. And joy.

Yesterday when my son refused to let me go, I chose him. I chose his happiness and didn't leave him to cry or worry where Mommy had gone. I took a deep breath and prayed our shopping trip wouldn't be a disaster. And I may have not found gifts for everyone on my list, but my son and I had a good time together. And it wasn't because he was an angel baby or because I was perfectly poised. My not-long-enough bangs still fell into my eyes. I still had lint on my shirt. The blankie still got dropped on the dirty store tile. But I chose to not allow the crashed and burned expectations I'd held ruin what God had given. Things didn't go as planned, but were they still blessed? Was there still joy to be had? Were there still ways to say, "Thank you", to realize how loved and seen by a Holy God I truly am?

Even if no one ever agrees that imperfect is perfect and lovely, I can hold fast to the truth that it is. That God didn't make us to be perfect, plastic people. He made us human with the ability to walk into a wall, stub our toes, fall down the stairs and say things we should bite our tongue in half to prevent from saying. We have to let go of what is fashionable and trendy and appealing sometimes to see what is tangible and heart-wrenching and makes you ache deep down in your soul because it's so basic and it's so pretty in it's own way.

That being loved when you know you're imperfect makes you feel more loved than anyone has probably ever felt. That being accepted when you know you're unacceptable and depended on when you know you've failed and trusted when you know you've been untrustworthy... That's grace. Overarching, overachieving, blanketing everything and bundling you tight: Grace. Grace forever, grace for right now, grace for what just happened that shouldn't have.

And we have the choice to say, "Yes." to it without fear of condemnation. There's no necessity to try harder. There's no better or more efficient lists. It's just a simple, "Okay." An acceptance of what has been given - and an open hand to take it in for what it is and to give thanks for it. Because it's what has been chosen for now by Someone who knows better than you.

Grace turns the imperfect into the perfect, into the blessed, every time.

"Great is Thy faithfulness," O God my Father,

There is no shadow of turning with Thee;

Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not

As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be.

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth,

Thy own dear presence to cheer and to guide;

Strength for today and

bright hope for tomorrow,

BLESSINGS all MINE,

with ten thousand beside!"

~ Great Is Thy Faithfulness, Traditional Hymn

Season's Greetings

It's kind of funny. And when I say, "funny" I don't mean, "Ha, ha."

We just came off the thankful-high of November. Everyone on Facebook was posting status updates on how grateful they were for this, that and the other and then, bam! Hello, December. Know what happens in December?

People get MEAN.

Suddenly it’s too much to return a smile in the checkout line. It’s common and somehow justified to pull out in someone vs. waiting your turn. Everyone is in a hurry, impatient, too busy to notice the humanity they are trampling over, ramming carts into and generally, ignoring. I stopped by our local Walmart this past week just as two bus loads of children were being accompanied by local church members to meet their needs. Wanna know how many of those people were impatient, pushy and rude to me and my son, even as they were surely trying to set an example of God's love to these community children they had taken shopping?

It’s just plain shameful. And we joke, “Tis the season!” as an excuse for the attitude.

What’s even more embarrassing is the fact that the majority of those living in the United States claim to be a Christian. Which means, they claim to be following Christ. Which means they should be emulating Him in their homes and in their interactions with strangers and even, *gasp* allowing Him to influence their driving habits and curb their rushed road rage. And the majority claim a local church as their home congregation. Which means, it’s not the unchurched saying they’re Christians being obnoxious and rude. It’s the Sunday Christians. The Bible-study attending Christians. The volunteers in the youth group Christians.

It’s. Us.

A few weeks ago Aaron and I watched a very emotional (when is it not?) Extreme Makeover: Home Edition where a young boy (I believe he was only ten or eleven years old) committed suicide as a result of bullying at school. The majority of the episode was on getting the word out that kids shouldn’t stay silent if they are bullied and that kids in general need to, “Be a buddy not a bully!”

Aaron and I kept pausing it (thank goodness for our modern days of technology and DVR) and discussing. What is the root of bullying? Where does change need to occur? How do we protect our own children? That night after we finished and I had cried myself into a serious headache, I stood over Joel’s crib, rubbing his back as he slept and just cried and prayed and hoped that he would know - that we would show him - that he could always, always come to us. No matter what.

As with most situations, it's not just black and white and clear cut and do x and get y every time. But one of the things we concluded is that kindness is certainly lacking. And where do children learn to be kind in the first place? At home. And whom do they learn those charitable, unselfish, thankful-in-all-things traits from? Ideally, Mommy and Daddy. And what happens when they hear Mommy cutting down Daddy to her friends? What happens when they see Daddy being unkind to Mommy? What chain reaction occurs when parents fight and bicker for control? Or when Mommy is too over-scheduled and everything is rush-rush and she's gripping the steering wheel and sighing in exasperation at the elderly gentleman in his Ford F-150 moseying down the road to Burger King?

Recently the Duggar family (most notable for their Christian convictions and their growing family, now up to twenty children) has been a topic I've seen circulating just about everywhere. I may not feel the same conviction to have twenty or more babies (I also started about a decade later than Mrs. Duggar in the child bearing department, so that's my out!) but what is most admirable is their dedication to the Lord and growing their kids up on the Bible. Sadly, that is not what is talked about most among Christians. Instead of commending their convictions and the deep respect, love and giving-nature of their family, we sit around and determine whether it's wise for them to have babies and when are they going to call it quits.

Who's the bully, now? Are we really all that shocked about the behavior of school-aged children and teens?

We are an ungracious, blame-placing, grudge-keeping, impatient, negative and unthankful teaming mass of humanity. I am not saying things are all bad. I am not saying that God is not present. I am not saying that many churches aren't doing all they know to do to challenge their congregations and impact their communities. But I think we need to step back and take a long, hard look at our attitudes and our words and our habitual gossip and our tearing down of others. Especially as parents. As mothers. (Proverbs 31:26 ESV)

Here we sit and pass judgement on a Christian husband and wife who are raising their children Biblically and holding fast to truth despite what is "cool" or "relevant" in the world. Maybe they make us uncomfortable because as God's people we see them doing things we know we should do, too and we'd rather find a comfortable excuse to avoid being quite that dedicated.

Anyway, this isn't about Jim Bob and Michelle Duggar, but about us as Christians. Not as humans, not as Americans, but as Christ-followers. The Bible commands us as God's chosen people to clothe ourselves with a list of attributes, namely: compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, patience, forgiving each other of complaints and above everything, loving each other (Colossians 3:12-14 ESV)

And there's nothing in there about only dressing up that way on Sunday mornings. It's Monday mornings when the coffee hasn't kicked in. It's the middle of the night when the baby refuses to stay asleep. It's the weekly grocery trip. It's when you're late and in a hurry and you slow down because it's not anyone else's fault that you poorly planned your day. It's when you're folding the fiftieth load of laundry and when you're sitting at a desk for ten hours, when you're standing in line, sitting at the License Branch and when your head is bowed when communion is served.

November doesn't make us sincerely grateful any more than December makes us raging to-do list obsessors. We do it to ourselves. We need to admit to ourselves that we are grown-ups, willing and able to exercise God-given self-control and behave in a manner that is in accordance with our faith claim (Philippians 1:27 ESV). If we don't want our kids to be rude, then we had better not be rude. If we want them to be kind, then we better be fair and charitable. If we want our children to learn about giving to others less fortunate, then they need to see us doing it. If we want them to value growing up in a family devoted to God then we can't sit back and tear down families who are doing just that.

Our kids need to see us grow up so they can.

"He has told you,

O man, what is good;

and what does the LORD require

of you but to do justice, and to love kindness,

and to walk humbly with your God."

~ M i c a h 6 : 8

Happily (Part Deux)

Joel loves to read. Well, considering he’s 20 months old, what I mean is he loves his books. He has always had this thing where he’ll point at the pictures and then expectantly wait for you to tell him what it is. We are trying to get him to tell us what he is looking at and we are slowly getting there. He’ll be sitting off in his favorite corner, “reading” away and I will hear him say, “Duck!” And I will glance over and indeed, he’s pointing at a duck, but he’s not looking at the picture. He’s looking at me to affirm him. To tell him, “Good boy! That’s right! That’s a duck!” And I do. And he’s appeased and turns the page. But he doesn’t move on until Mom gives him a little confirmation and praise.

When he did this a few weeks ago, I had to smile. So like a man.

And I don’t say that with any malice or judgement. I married a man. A good, country, God-fearing man. And I love him. But I am learning more and more how the man works. How they think, what makes them tick, what aggravates them about us, their princesses. It’s been really eye opening and I maybe didn’t want to see all the truth at first, but now that I do, I feel like someone has dropped a book of secrets into my lap. I feel like I am seeing and hearing my husband better. And I get the sense that he feels very seen and heard, respected and affirmed because of it.

Told you. Man thing.

I recently read the book, “The Proper Care and Feeding of Husbands” by Dr. Laura Schlessinger. I don’t know much about her, but I knew instinctively that much of what she said was true. To balance it, I would sit and read and when I came to a point that made me blink and kind of made my insides twist in that knowing, “Are you paying attention?!” way, I would turn to Aaron and ask, “Is this true? What do you think about this?” Kind of hoping he’d disagree and I could feel justified in whatever I was feeling. He never once disagreed with Dr. Laura.

Figures.

And as uncomfortable as it made me to maybe admit where I was being less than hospitable to my own husband, or less understanding or loving, it was eye-opening. And what they say is really true - men aren’t that hard to figure out. (I still maintain that women aren’t either - however, women make themselves and situations more complicated than they should. They

do the whole expectation thing way more than the men.) Many times you will ask a wife if there are issues in her marriage and she’ll have a long list to hand you. Ask her husband and he’ll tell you everything is fine. And he probably means it. He has no idea of all the negativity and inner turmoil that is raging in your head. Which means your dissatisfaction has more to do with you than with your man. Which also means it’s your issue to fix.... not his.

We “know” the facts, but in our every day life, in our marriages, we don’t act like that’s real. We seem to think that what we think is going on is in fact reality. That because he’s not talking, it means our marriages are falling apart. Or because he’s low energy it’s because he’s hiding some deep dark secret, even though he says he’s simply tired. What happened to believing our men, of taking them at their word?

Did it somehow happen when we stopped seeing him as the hero?

When we were dating, I was completely understanding of Aaron’s work schedule, his sometimes late nights and his exhausted evenings. I rolled with it. I was proud of him and how hard he worked. I would make him his favorite meal. We would watch football and I wouldn’t complain or ask dumb questions. Once I even had a pizza delivered to his apartment, knowing he needed to chill and watch some basketball and unwind. We are crazy thoughtful, understanding, patient and respectful when we’re dating. We want to be with them, we think so many of the things that they do are “cute” (but then when we marry, they are annoying). We fall in love hoping he’ll never change, so satisfied with everything he is. But after we get back from the honeymoon, suddenly it seems we set to work on “changing him”. You loved him as he was enough to marry him. Why can’t that be enough to stay (happily!) married to him? To be happy together?

In her book, Dr. Laura quoted one of her listeners: “If I really believe all the things I say/think/complain about him, why on earth are we married? If I love him so much, why do I act so unloving and disrespectful? What will make him continue to love me if I continue to act in this way?"

One of my best friends has commented recently that there aren’t very many verses in the Bible about how a man should treat his wife (other than the broad spectrum of loving her) but there are multiple verses about the nagging wife. Our complaints are like waterboarding to our men. We may not thinks so, especially when so many of our “suggestions” seem warranted, justified, even necessary... but when you criticize you destroy feelings of love and tenderness towards the object of your criticism. It’s kind of hard to feel madly in love with someone that you feel aggravated with just by looking at them.

Dr. Laura further state that, “One of the most typical ways that a wife misuses power over her husband is by her angry disappointment.” Most of us are married to good-hearted, wants to do right by you, kind of man. That means they want to make us happy. In decisions in my own marriage, my husband will say, “I just want you to be happy.” If I pout and huff and am generally a brat, I am not only annoying him, I am hurting him. His intentions are my continued welfare and happiness. That’s why he works so hard. That’s why he maintains our house so well. He wants me to be okay. Content.

Women have lots and lots and lots of power in their marriages. This ain’t no lie. You exercise a little tenderness and understanding and suddenly you’re Super Woman in his eyes. It doesn’t take much to impress them. If you’re respectful, thankful, and understanding of the fact that he’s a human being that you love, not simply a human being who is put on this earth to make your dreams come true... well. You’re halfway to your happily ever after and then some.

The problem is, with great power comes great responsibility. And sometimes we would like to just be powerful and use our wiles to get what we want. Uh uh. That isn’t going to work, sister. Not in the long run. The power comes in when you recognize the responsibility towards your spouse, to treat them the way you want to be treated. That means being understanding when they need to detox from a hard week and watch football and not turn it into a “Why don’t you ever want to spend time with me?!” argument. He’s at home, in your living room. He’s not avoiding home (and that’s a compliment to you!) But so many times, the man isn’t cutting it if he’s not cutting it the way the wife wants to.

Nag, nag, nag. Drip, drip, drip.

Sometimes you need to stop and ask yourself if you truly honestly care when your man is going through, feeling and/or needing. Many times we don’t want to know what’s really going on with them, we just want to know they still feel all ooey gooey about us. All we want is a little positive reinforcement, we say. Just give me some compliments, a great hug, a Hallmark card and I’ll be good. Again, we’re making our issues, our ultimate happiness, his job.

That’s not his job.

And dare I say that sometimes women need to stop thinking like women and start thinking like men? Men are pretty black and white about things. “I do this because I feel this way.” But women make everything a house of mirrors at the circus. We can be pretty crazy. Men, well, they are rarely seen as overly emotional and unrealistic. They operate on facts.

What if we operated on facts?

When I step away from how I think marriage should be or how warm and fuzzy I would like to be treated or all the compliments I’d love to hear... when I look at the facts I see a long list of ways my husband loves me and is in love with me. When I go back to how he was when we dated and how much I adored him, was proud of him, etc., that’s when I realize he is still that guy. Nothing changed. What changed is that we got married and I suddenly had wild expectations about how life should be. Or rather how I should be adored.

We go from wanting to hang out with them while they work on their trucks for hours to rolling our eyes and feeling like we’re one foot to divorce court because they don’t bring us flowers very often. It’s kind of silly, really. When we’re dating we think about pleasing them, surprising them, making out with them (don’t lie)... but when we’re married, we start thinking of our needs and our wants and our levels of fairy tale level happiness.

And a man is not going to feel romantic towards someone who is never happy or sends the message consistently that he’s to blame for the discontentment. We have power to make or break our men. And that means we have the power to make or break our marriages. It doesn’t remove responsibility from the husband - that’s not what I’m saying. But what I am saying is that much of the issues or unhappiness in marriage stems from a woman’s unhappiness with the way her man is or is not doing something. And usually it’s little things. Don’t major in the minors.

There is nothing wrong with wanting happiness and warm feelings in your marriage. But they don’t come about in the way you would (or fairy tales) would have us believe. It’s not about kissing in the rain or surprises in little boxes or dancing in the kitchen (although these are all great things when they occur!)... Genuine warmth and deep happiness and contentment comes from a heart that is grateful, not a heart that is constantly in want.

When Aaron and I were dating, I marked on my calendar the 100th day we were together and when that day came around, I gave him 100 cards that I had made, each with a simple statement of how I loved him. A hundred little things. We’ve now been together over four years. Made a lot of memories. And a couple babies. And when I stop to think, there are many, many more things I love and appreciate about him. Maybe more than I could list if I tried. Especially when I stop thinking about my “You do this and it makes me want to shove your head through the wall” list.

Set fire to the score card. And pull out some paper and start making a new list.

"I love you for putting your hand

into my heart and passing over all

the foolish, weak things that you can't

help dimly seeing there, and for

drawing out into the light all the

beautiful belongings that no one else

had looked quite so far enough to find."

~ R o y C r o f t