Monday, February 2, 2009

A Large Measure of Grace

What is it about marriage that causes such an inexplicable, uncanny range of emotion? We aren't fighters by any means; peace usually prevails here. Mostly, we just don't have the time to get into spats - too many diapers to change, errands to run, tasks to complete. But anyhow, one day I'm on my knees thanking God for giving me just the right husband, and the next day I'm trying to keep my trap shut because I can't think of a single nice thing to say to my honey!

Last night I was on rocking chair duty, so Don decided to clean the kitchen. I was so thankful and blessed, until I went in there to take my vitamins before bed. The counters weren't wiped down, the stove was a mess, the garbage disposal wasn't run, and the sink wasn't clean. It's roughly 2:00 am at this point, and I'm irritated beyond belief that I had to finish the kitchen. Mind you, the rest of the house has been a mess for a few weeks, so I don't know why a clean kitchen means anything to me anymore. I didn't say anything, because I know why this occurs. Honey always says that men just don't have the same ability to attend to detail. Convenient excuse? LOL

While in California we listened to the testimony of a Vietnam Vet (later a pastor) who was badly injured in the war and demoralised by the reception the troops got upon their return to the US. He suffered from substance abuse and depression, and literally put his wife through hell for several years. One day, he walked in on her in their bedroom, on her knees, begging God to help her love her husband one more day. She had recently become a Christian, but he had not. He backed out of the bedroom, quietly. She never knew he was there. That was a turning point in their marriage. It helped him acknowledge his pain, his anger, his substance abuse, and soon after he became a Christian. In his forties, he became a pastor, after earning a degree in psychology and theology. He baptized me, and married us, and will forever hold a dear place in our hearts. Two months before we moved here, he suffered a massive heart attack and passed away quickly, at the age of 60, in the church courtyard. Our church had an average weekly attendance of 8000 people. He was beloved by all. The Lord used him mightily.

I tell this story because every time I feel extremely irritated at my husband, I remember the image of her kneeling beside her bed, praying that the Lord would help her love Dan one more day. If He can help her endure all the pain Dan caused, he can surely help me finish the kitchen at 2:00 am, armed with a large measure of grace towards my Honey.

1 comment:

Steph said...

You are such a sweetheart! Thanks for the kind words on my blog. I read all your posts - I appreciate their thoughtfulness (including this one - words to live by). I have to admit I only skim through the homeschooling ones because they make me feel very, very tired. ;) I don't know how you do it!