Lots of people believe that finding your own true love, marrying and even having children will guarantee a happy life.
Not necessarily. Certainly not every day without fail.
Some days "having it all" feels like too much to handle. Some days one or the other of you may you feel, um, under-appreciated.
I remember feeling a bit ignored one otherwise unremarkable morning. My husband and I had a happy marriage and I knew he loved me, but ....
I didn't complain, oh no, not me. I stayed quiet except for sighing big sighs and banging cupboard doors for emphasis.
My husband, preoccupied with getting to an appointment, didn't pick up on my cues. I surprised myself by announcing, "That's it!"
He checked his watch, sat down down on a kitchen stool and asked, "What's 'it'?"
I started spewing out my pent-up complaints and frustrations.
That dear man listened without a word. When I paused to breathe he said, "Look, Hon, I really do have to go. Let's talk about this tonight."
Then with a half-smile and a shoulder pat (instead of our customary kiss) he headed off to his day.
Trying to shift gears for my day
I had no time to feel sorry for myself because that afternoon I was to be the featured speaker at a women's gathering miles away. My already-announced topic? Marriage.
(Are you laughing yet?)
I was not in the mood to face an audience and speak on any topic, let alone marriage. Nevertheless, these women were depending on me, so I forced myself to concentrate on my notes and gather my thoughts.
Then I read aloud the old poem I planned to use as a wrap up. I had loved these lines for years, but this time the poet's words hit me right in the pride.
OUR OWN
If I had known in the morning
How wearily all the day
the words unkind
would trouble my mind, that
I said when you went away;
I would have been more careful, darling;
nor given you needless pain;
But we vex our own
with a look and tone
We may never take back again.
For though in the quiet evening
You may give me the kiss of peace;
Yet, it might be, that never for me
The pain of the heart may cease.
How many go forth in the morning
and never come home at night,
and hearts have broken
for harsh words spokenThat sorrow can never set right.
--Margaret Elizabeth Sangster
Before I got to the end . . .
Tears streamed down my cheeks and dissolved my list of grievances. I looked back on my complaints and recognized them for what they were: petty and self-centered.
And I heard a question drumming on and on in my mind: What about my husband's needs and wants?
Before I had prayed, "Oh, Lord, let him hear me."
Now I prayed, "Oh, Lord, let me hear You, always."
The line that would not let me go
I kept hearing one line from the poem, "How many go forth at morning who never come home at night!"
Any time my husband or children left to live out their days I had no guarantee I would see them again.
As I thought about that inescapable truth my heart dropped.
That very moment I promised myself that never again would I say hurtful words just before I parted from a loved one. Instead, I would smile and say, "I love you." Every time.
When I addressed the gathering of women I found myself giving a talk that included a lot I hadn't planned to say. Afterward, women came up and thanked me for my insights and examples.
My answer never varied: "It's only because God keeps teaching me through the life I'm living."
Truths more lasting than any poem
These were Christian women, after all, and I had nothing magical to give, but I did have God's Word. So I included some of the Bible verses that had swirled in my mind ever since my husband left for the day. Each one applies so well to living together as husband and wife.
Particularly the first verse, which that day seemed written just to me. The second is a familiar text often used at weddings. Both fit marriage relationships very well.
[Jesus said] "Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when there is the log in your own eye?" Matthew 7:3-4 ESV
Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 ESV
When my husband and I reunited later that day . . .
I don't recall which of us got home first, but as soon as I saw him, I grabbed him and hugged him tight.
Then I asked him to forgive me for being snippy and told him again how much I loved him and how thankful I was to be his wife. He responded in kind. For the first time in awhile we concentrated on each other and talked. Really talked. About our life and our marriage and our personal needs.
Let's just say it was the start of a lovely evening.
Small insights can lead to clear thinking
How could I have missed remembering that my strong, silent husband needed my love and appreciation as much as I needed his?
How could I have forgotten love grows from giving love away, not from nursing hurts and waiting around for apologies?
Huge breakthroughs often happen in ordinary ways, on ordinary days.
As never before I saw myself and my faulty attitudes and realized I too often "went mountain-climbing over molehills."
That simple poem reminded me what mattered most in my life.
Over the years my husband and I grew in being open and honest with each other--and with ourselves--even though we thought we already were.
You might say that day that started out so wrong planted a new way to think--and it bore fruit within our marriage. It still does, within our wide, ever-growing family.
Fruit that is sweet.
May it do the same for you, my friend,
Lenore
