Marriage: one of the hardest things you can ever do. Living with someone who may or may hold sacred the things that you do (Toilet seat up? Messy bed in the mornings? Lights on in an empty room? And admit it-we are all guilty)
I think this post from Edie of Life in Grace did a pretty good job of talking about marriage: http://www.lifeingraceblog.com/
Oh man, these two paragraphs:
“You don’t yet grasp the depths of your own depravity. You want your own way. You think your faults are less offensive than his. You justify yourself in a thousand ways and give yourself every benefit of the doubt. But, his faults and sins are magnified to you. You’re convinced that you give more in the relationship. You are always the hero in your mind. Or maybe it’s just me.
I’ve stayed mad for 3 days because he fails to acknowledge all that I do around here, only to realize that I never once told him thank you for going to work so faithfully all these years—for shouldering the financial responsibility of this gang of kids like a rock. For coming home every single night. For staying when staying seemed so very difficult. Never complaining. Never asking to win an award or be noticed. Just steady and sure and strong.”
Oh wow. I am so guilty of this. I get mad at what I think are big things, but I’m really making mountains out of molehills. Like not doing dishes after I’ve cooked, taking clothes out of the washing machine and putting the in dryer, or forgetting that it’s trash day.
But…I forget about the hours at work that he’s put in, the extra hours, the late nights (the phone ringing in the middle of the night-fifteen minutes later, he’s out the door). His work is demanding; helping families in their time with the loss of loved ones. He sets the bar high, always going over and above the norm to make sure that his families are well taken care of. How he made sure his mom could live at home, staying with her at night three night a week/every other weekend for three years, making sure she had what she needed to be comfortable.
I have forgotten to thank him for working so hard to keep a roof over our head, food on the table, clothes on our backs. For the time spent at scouts with our son, volunteering to work with boys who need good male figures in their lives, teaching them skills they will need as the grow and mature into men. For taking the time on his day off to fix things around the house-today it was the kitchen faucet). For dealing with me, and my attempts to organize our house, with piles of stuff everywhere (there’s tupperware from said repair still sitting in a plastic bin in the living room, waiting on the dishwasher).
Thanking someone isn’t done by speaking; it’s by our acts. It’s cooking dinner for the family, washing clothes so when the phone rings at 2:00 a.m., he can find what is needed quickly (and smelling good). And today, on his day off, it’s leaving him to his nap while I run errands and pick up the boy from school.
Time to run.