Loaf of Trouble

Get out your pens, Ladies.

Today I'm sharing my recipe for making the perfect Loaf of Trouble:

Ingredients

-4-6 pieces of chicken, some stuffing, and breadcrumbs

-1 cup of Fatigue (the "Monthly Visitor" brand works best)

-1 small, cabinet-raiding child

-An over-worked husband, divided. (They separate like eggs: allow your husband very little sleep over several days, and you'll soon be left with just a shell.)

-Equal parts Over-sensitivity and Self-Interest

-Poor Judgement, to taste

Method

While turning the chicken, stuffing, and breadcrumbs into a meal, the chef should trip over the cabinet-raiding child several times, until mildly annoyed. (Note: if working near a recently-swept floor, pour breadcrumbs on it.)  Next, ask the conscious half of the husband to look after baby--save the rest for later. Place over heat.  Don't worry if husband doesn't require much heat before sweetly agreeing--as mine did yesterday. Move to last step.

Use liberal amounts of poor judgement to spread Self-Interest and Over-Sensitivity on top of the remaining (exhausted shell) portion of husband. 

Sample technique:

Wife: It would be great if you'd fix the fridge today.

Husband: I already know.

Wife: You seem grumpy.

Husband: I'm tired.

Wife: You're short-fused.

Husband: Maybe you're being too sensitive.

Wife: So, I just have to deal with it, because you're tired?

Husband:  Oh, here we go.

Wife: What's THAT supposed to mean?...

Continue pounding dough in this manner, until serving raw.

Variations:

Last night, Luke took my Loaf of Trouble and sweetened it with patience and kindness until it was unrecognizable. At 3:15am--which is wide-awake time for a third shift person--Luke woke me to apologize for his part in the baking. He said his backwards-schedule complicates things; he struggles with irritability during his "off-hours." But he also called this “an excuse” which was "too easy." 

Then he promised to work on communicating better--so that it’s harder for me to cook up Trouble in the future.

Luke wrote: “A duet is more beautiful when each singer works to make the other sound more beautiful, instead of fighting to be heard above the other.”   I couldn’t agree more. And I’m grateful for the way he reached out to me, though I was equally guilty of wrong. It’s easy to harmonize with someone like that…

In conclusion, it takes two people to bake a Loaf of Trouble; thus, it only takes one to sabotage it, and make a sweeter variation instead.   

Thanks, honey, for being that person this time around!   

"Modern" Marriage

Yep, I watched part of the Royal Wedding. I woke up at 6:30am and caught the end of the sermon, lots of choral singing, and the recessional parade thingy, which probably has a more official name than that...

I missed the live broadcast of the vows, but when I heard comments referring to the absence of the word "obey" from Kate's version, I decided to YouTube it. Sure enough, with a little research, I discovered this isn't the first time a royal bride omitted this word, and it has caused quite a stir in the past. This time around, however, several observers praised Kate for following in the footsteps of independent, strong women like Diana and Fergie, claiming it shows a concentration on equality in relationships.

First of all, I'd like to point out that both Diana and Fergie wound up divorced. That's mildly interesting.

But what I really want to ask is: what about the word "obey" terrifies modern women so much?

So many times, I've heard self-titled "progressive" women ("strong," "independent" women) remark about how they would DIE before promising to obey their husbands, but it always makes me wonder: What is so horrible about your significant other that you don't trust him? If you're worried he would ask you to do something which is morally WRONG, why are you marrying him at all? And if not--if your only concern is having to do things you don't always want to do--are you so selfish you can't give up your own desires in his favor now and then?
----

A friend of mine complained about all the wedding hooplah, because, as she pointed out, the world is celebrating a ceremony that otherwise doesn't hold much significance to our culture anymore. Most of the tradition and pageantry has been handed down from a time when marriage really did mean forever. Now,  despite the politically correct talk about the "beautiful couple" and how "happy they are," it seems perfectly appropriate to wonder secretly when it will end in a split. (Or to wonder the same thing, not-so-secretly on your blog, I suppose.)

I realize this is a touchy subject because so many people are affected by divorce. But I can't help noticing that wedding vows mean very little in our world, and that's another reason I wonder why women fight so fiercely over the word "obey." Frequently they say "love, honor, and cherish until death do us part," then turn around and part before death. So, why can't we mutter an insincere "I'll obey ya, too"   ???

And, what's with the "richer or poorer" thing? I know the royals don't have much to worry about in that department, but statistics show the rest of us fight about money above anything else... Why would any self-respecting woman promise to attach herself to a poor guy?!

If we REALLY want to brag about our progressive marriage ceremonies and keep our vows more practical for a modern society, I think mine probably should have read something like this:

I, Amanda, take you, Luke, to be my lawfully wedded husband. I promise to love you as long as I feel you are providing for our family, and I will treat you as an equal, unless I wake up one morning and realize I'm not happy and should look out for myself first. Life is short, afterall. But, it's not so short that I can promise---for sure--to be your wife the whole time. So, I promise to be faithful as long as our relationship still feels as good as dating. If I like the things you say to me, I'll consider your opinions. (But, let's be clear. That's not the same as "obeying!") I suppose I will cherish you, if you deserve it. And I will sacrifice for you, unless it hurts TOO much.  And, finally my love, I promise to enjoy the congratulations and the taxbreak associated with our new "committment," until it's time to dissolve the contract and try again with the next guy.

Oh, Amanda, you are so judgmental.

It's true, I see the carelessness being thrown upon the beautiful institution of marriage, and--in my judgment--it is a disgrace.  But if we thought seriously about our promises, maybe fewer people would jump into marriage so readily? Maybe we wouldn't be so quick to congratulate, but would caution each other that life-long relationships aren't for the selfishly-minded (unless you want to change the vows to resemble mine above)...

I actually don't have a problem with women who KNOW they have an issue with "obeying." At least they're thinking about the words of their vows! But, again, I wonder why you would go through with the marriage anyway--just removing the parts you don't like. If you can't be sure you're standing beside a man who only will exercise his authority as a last resort and for your good, if you wonder whether it will turn into an "abuse" situation, or if you don't know for sure if he could handle leadership, why are you pledging your life to him?

----
Luke hasn't yet used his headship to end an argument. Most of the time, we go back and forth in discussion when our wills clash, and there hasn't been an instance when he felt so strongly his way was better for both of us that he trumped me on the spot...

But I remember a time my dad stepped in and took charge, despite protests. My grandpa, Mom's dad, passed away somewhat unexpectedly, and the entire family left church early to drive nearly three hours and be with Grandma. We may have thrown some clothes in bags first, but we weren't totally prepared for a long visit. Besides that, Mom's extended family was arriving in droves, and Grandma's little house was getting crowded. 

So, my dad made the executive decision to take my three siblings and me back home to our house, and let my mom spend time mourning with her family. She didn't like the idea--wanting to keep everyone together, unsure about the cost of driving back and forth repeatedly, worried about whether we'd make it for the funeral, etc. And, ordinarily, Dad tries to accomodate Mom's wishes the best he can.

But, he recognized that she wasn't thinking with her usual clarity. She was distraught, and she needed the leadership of my father to take care of details while she dealt with her pain. I'm not sure whether she held a grudge against him at first, but I did hear her remark later that she was glad he stepped in and overruled her. After the fact, she could recognize he did it for her good.
----

There is no reason for me to suspect Kate and William will crash and burn in the matrimony department, other than the truly sad divorce statistics being collected. For this reason, along with the rest of the world, I'll stare breathless at the pomp, admire the beauty, and wish my best for the couple.

But I will not celebrate their focus on "equality," when I believe strongly true love elevates the other person. I cannot praise anybody for their "modern" or "progressive" marriage, because I don't see progress in the institution at all.

"It Takes Longer to Think than to Feel"

I've reported a couple of personal meltdowns on this site, so it's no secret I have irrational, emotional moments. Usually, they happen late at night when both Luke and I are tired and selflessness becomes the last thing we're interested in... (Well, maybe second-to-last.)

But, another common battleground for my lover and I is the car. Lately, if we're still holding hands and smiling after ten minutes or so, one of us will joke, "Are you ready to fight, yet?" It's because--more often than not--a trip somewhere is the fastest way to transform us from best friends to bitter rivals.

I kid you not. Once, Luke and I had a knock-down drag-out fight I'll give the title"When is the best time to shift gears with a manual transmission vehicle?" Another time, Luke grew angrily silent and I cried due to a discussion-gone-wrong about possible reasons my dad's clunker car hadn't given out yet.

Why do certain situations bring out the worst in us?

Well, it's easy to hypothesize about it now--safely on this side of the emotion. But, in the heat of the moment, "why" is hard to tack down, and all that seems to matter is how much we irritate each other.

That's why I was excited to stumble across This article today, titled "It Takes Longer to Think than to Feel." First of all, it was good to know Luke and I are not the only couple who get snippy for "no apparent reason." But, secondly, the author assures us there may be a reason--it just takes longer to sort out the "why" than to simply FEEL upset.

Looking back at the silly arguments from here in my comfy recliner, it makes sense that travel may cause heightened tension between Luke and I. In addition, the fight about shifting gears took place toward the end of our Volkswagon Beetle's life--during a time it repeatedly stalled in the middle of the street. In fact, that very day, just before we began bickering, the car shut itself off while we were doing 40 mph downtown. It seems pretty obvious now why emotions were high.

In the second example, Luke and I had just ridden with my parents to Kokomo from Lafayette. They tooks us to where we had left our own car earlier than morning, when we realized Luke had left his coat and OUR KEYS at my aunt's house in Lafayette. As a result, we had to borrow my dad's car to drive 45 minutes, get the keys, drive BACK to Kokomo, and then take our own vehicle home to Fort Wayne.

The oil light was on in Dad's car and his gas gauge was stuck on "empty." That's when one of us mused, "I wonder what's holding this car together?" and all Hell broke loose.

Indeed, it does take longer to think than to feel. But, I agree with the author of the article above. Just knowing that fact gives us a better ability to manage life's "out of nowhere" tensions.

Selfless Activities in the McKinney House

Right now, I'm struggling to get off the couch.

Luke is struggling to get out of the easy chair.

Me: I really have a lot of cleaning to do today.

Luke: I'm already cleaning.

Me: You're cleaning? What are you cleaning?

Luke: The laundry.

Me: Ah, I see. Well, in that case, I'm growing a baby. So, what else are you doing?

Luke: (popping a piece of Trident in his mouth) Fighting cavities.

Me: Very nice. I'm holding my bladder. Can you beat that?

Luke: (rocking in his chair) I'm exercising.

Me: (holding an arm up) Me, too! Anything else?

Luke: Releasing gasses.

Me: And I'm loving you despite that.

----

Yep, we're really busy... I don't see how it's possible for me to clean right now. But, surely even a God who challenges us to serve and sacrifice wouldn't expect us to get off our rears while we're doing all that work...

You Mean Sometimes the Right Thing is EASY?

This past weekend was grrrrrrrrreat! For the first time in I-Won't-Even-Guess-How-Long, Luke and I enjoyed three days off work together. We didn't request this time off. There was no holiday. It just happened to happen. And, though he is busy studying for his nursing boards, we spent a lot of time together.

That is, after getting over our big fight on Friday night.

I know what you must be thinking. "Yay! It's been too long since Amanda shared a juicy story about fighting with her husband."

You are in luck, Good Reader. Before the post is done, I will tell you about two, seperate issues we had before our grrrrrrrrreat weekend went down.

Luke worked six days in a row last week (Friday being the sixth), and each night after coming home he went straight to the office to log study hours for the nursing boards mentioned above. So, he mostly was inaccessible for a long while... And approximately 90% of our issues begin this way. (For an account of how my need for quality time and Luke's difficulty with time management usually clash, you can read about this argument from a few months ago.)

I began letting Luke know I was feeling neglected on Friday morning, and he said he understood the reason. By way of compromise, he wanted to keep studying until 6:15, but then we could have a "date night." He mentioned eating out, watching a movie, or doing something unusual like "building a fort" together. "Okay," I agreed.

Then I waited...

Until 9:15pm.

And that's when I got kind of frustrated.

And I started thinking, "This is going to turn out just like the argument from a few months ago."

And, sure enough, shortly after Luke strolled into our bedroom with a couple excuses and a defensive tone, he started to fall asleep! (sigh).... So, I took my leave and went to the couch to pray, where things could have progressed just like the argument from a few months ago. Except I had learned an important lesson earlier in the week, when we had another disagreement. (I told you! Two, seperate accounts of friction! Allow me to divulge this one!)

My car started squeaking last week. I knew it was the brakes because they've been grinding for awhile, but the squeaking proved we couldn't ignore it any longer. And, when I told Luke about it, he started looking for reputable shops in Fort Wayne. The only problem was, it took about two hours of internet searching for him to announce, "I'm just going to fix them myself!" Then he started the long process of internet research to tell him "how to" do something. (I'm very familiar with this process, as we own a home and have spent many hours in do-it-yourself projects. Luke loves "how to" researching.)

However, from the perspective of a woman who already feels she isn't seeing much of her husband (save for his closed eyelids in the morning, when I kiss him before going to work), I didn't think fixing the brakes on his own was manageable. Either he has the time to spend on the car--and, by the same token, the time to spend with me. Or he doesn't have time for either...

But, when I mentioned the other things he could/should be doing with his time, he became defensive... I explained that I appreciate his desire to save us some money, and that I believe he is capable of fixing the brakes. But, I also don't think it's worth missing more time with him when we can afford to hire a professional. For me, his nursing test and job are higher priorities. Yet, telling him I miss his company didn't soften the blow, and he was mad that I was "getting in the way" of something he wanted to do.

Then, he said something which made me realize the real problem had nothing to do with brakes or defensiveness or differing opinions. He said (sarcastically), "When the nursing test is done, will you let me make decisions, or will you have something else on a list for me to do?"

And it hit me that he was angry in the same way a child gets mad at a parent. He saw ME as the obstacle to his plans, and he didn't like what I was saying. But, while he should have conducted a similar argument with his conscience, I was personifying the "bad guy" instead. It occured to me that Luke is a good man who wants to do the right thing--but the right thing is hard to hear from another individual. It's easy to get mad at the person pointing out the truth, even if you would agree when forced to consider the options yourself.

So, I stepped back and said, "Pray about it. If you honestly can tell me your decision to repair the brakes yourself is the wisest use of your time, and if you are at peace with it, I will not stop you." And instantly, the argument was over.

Know what else? He didn't have time to fix the brakes... and it was so much easier not having to play the role of his conscience. It made so much sense after that. Why not let him get mad at the Holy Spirit instead of me? God can take Luke's frustration! And, in the meantime, it doesn't put unnecessary strain on our relationship. I don't have to be the bad guy.

Back to Friday night, after I left Luke half-asleep in the bedroom, clearly in the wrong for backing out on his word and leaving me disappointed. I went to the couch and started praying, but this time, I didn't run back and turn the light on in Luke's face. (If you read the argument from a few months ago, you know what I'm referencing.) Instead I asked that God would do the convicting. I told Him that I know Luke is a respectable, God-fearing man who just needs a nudge sometimes--but that I'm not qualified to give him that nudge. And, once again, my experience was much less stressful than usual.

Luke found me in the living room and apologized for getting wrapped up in his business at my expense. And--though we didn't come up with any "fail-proof solutions" for preventing this situation next time, it helps to know it's not my responsibility to make sure Luke doesn't let me down again. I just need to encourage him to pray, and let God do the rest.

Then Saturday rolled around, and we slept late together. We went to church Sunday morning, and in the evening, we built a fort in the living room. Finally, we studied for Luke's boards together on Monday, and by the time we got back from Applebee's that night, I was convinced it was the grrrrrrreatest weekend in a long time.

A Few Quotes Just to Buy Time Until I Get Myself in Gear and Post Like I Mean it Again

Yes, now THIS officially has been the longest interval without a blog post.

But these last couple of weeks haven't been bright and shiney. Instead, trouble in paradise. I tried service and selflessness. I also tried nagging and complaining. But, unlike with most of my stories of trouble, arguing, impatience, and other marriage-related adventures, I've yet to find the moral. In fact, sharing the details at this point would easily become a rant session rather than a humble tale of conviction, because there hasn't been a "good wife lesson" to learn in the end. This time, Friends, I have not been the wrong-doer.

Therefore, until my husband starts a blog about journeying in selflessness (he could call it "School, Lack-of-Sleep, and Other Tickets to the Dog House") I can't give any specifics. The only thing I've learned at this point is that the people who love you best also have the ability to hurt you most. And that's a depressing topic for a blog.

So, rather than talking about goings-on in my current life--and since I have some pretty great stories from my growing up years--I'll be asking you to "let me tell you a story" more this week. And maybe I will post regularly again?

And, in the meantime, here are some quotes to keep you occupied:

Parent (to a boy in the corner): Are you in trouble over there?
Boy: A little.
Parent: Why are you always getting yourself into trouble?
Boy (shrugging): It's just my thing.

Teacher-to-another-teacher (while a three-year-old listened): We'll have someone come in to cover your shift this afternoon. But could you stay until 9:00, and..."
3-year-old (to me): 9:00?!
Me: 9:00?
3-year-old: I don't know what that means!!!

5-year-old: I'm going to be Spiderman for Halloween.
Me: I thought you were going as Ironman.
5-year-old: No, I like Spiderman....or Lightning McQueen.
Me: I see.
5-year-old: I'll be Superman for next Halloween.
Me: You're already thinking about next Halloween?
5-year-old: Yes, because my minds keep changing!

What Happens When You Just Don't Care

Well, I kind of snapped last night.
Luke has been extremely busy with work and school lately. For some reason, his boss scheduled extra hours at the hospital around the same time his professors scheduled extra homework... AND, he also downloaded a new computer game lately which is "very fun." Several hours worth of fun, it seems.

Have I mentioned quality time is important to me?

And since I haven't had some good Soul Talk with an earthly friend in awhile, and since I started feeling sorry for myself about all the alone-time I've had, and since I was tired of asking God to fix problems in me and was ready for Him to just fix someone else for awhile, I got mad. And when Luke started drifting off to sleep instead of talking through it with me, I got more mad.

Of course, there were other complications. Luke could tell I was upset, and he isn't very good at the "talk through it" part. He tends to get defensive, and he also translates my point of view as me telling him he's wrong.... it makes our conversations drag on and take on a circular form. Luke either gets frustrated enough to get sarcastic, or he sits silently...and eventually starts to doze off. (By the way, my intent isn't to hang out Luke's dirty laundry for all to see. He would admit to all of this.)

Anyway, eventually I tried walking out of the room to show him how mad I was, but that just made the room quiet so he could sleep better. So, I spent a couple minutes praying very loudly to God--telling Him I didn't feel prepared for this bickering because my heart was hurting and I hadn't been built up properly thoughout the week. I told Him I was starving for Christian fellowship, and the fact that I don't often get it from my own husband was more-than-a-little irritating. And I thought it was cruel of Him to expect me to continue my quest for selflessness when that left NOBODY to take care of me. (It's how I felt, okay?)

And I was especially loud about it, partly because I felt like yelling at my Dad in Heaven for how unfair he made this life, and mostly because I hoped my volume would disturb Luke's peace. But, when that didn't work, I finally told God, "I don't care about being selfless right now," and I stomped back into the bedroom to flick on the light in my lover's face.

I got more mean from there.

I said, "I'm so tired of crying by myself in the living room!"
"I'm so tired of praying and reading scripture and calming my own soul, without your help." And then said, "It's probably selfish what I'm doing right now, but I don't care. I want to punish you for this."

These were the honest, angry words of my heart. I felt all of it. I meant all of it. And I was telling Luke the truth as it seemed to me in that moment.

Yet, here's the truth as it appears from a better-rested perspective, from the vantage of the "me" who is off work for the day, looking at the blue sky, fresh-from-devotions, and who has receieved several uplifting compliments about my blog, my teaching abilities, and my character in the last 8 hours. The truth from this positive frame of mind is that I'm married to a wonderfully loving, patient man.

He let's me yell when I need to, even if he has no idea how to help me. He is quick to confess his wrongs--at least much quicker than I am. And he loves me in a way that makes me understand Christ's love better. I've never doubted Luke's devotion, EVER.... He is a safe person with whom to be angry because he never holds grudges or threatens to leave. He never makes me feel small on purpose or tries to tear me down. I've never doubted his love for me, even during the times I doubted whether I could love him properly. And that counts for a whole lot.

I'm happy to report we did not go to bed angry. And, I'm pretty sure I avoided the F-bomb, unlike the last argument we had. (I'll have to ask Luke because sometimes blinding rage messes with your memory.) Anyway, as usual, I burst into tears once I unleashed my anger, and Luke held me and apologized for letting me go so long without his companionship.

But why do I share this story? I'm still sad about the time we lost this week, and I know we have a long way to go before the root issue is "fixed." We found sore spots during our discussion, ranging from priorities to passion. We questioned our communications skills and talked about how unfortunate it is that we don't always WANT to spend every waking moment together--as we did years ago. Ours was a multi-faceted dispute, so in that sense, the problem isn't "over."

But I needed to share the story of the Time I Just Didn't Care, in favor of confession (Hi, my name is Amanda, and I'm recovering from complete Self-Obsession. Last night, I relapsed.) And also, to encourage you there IS peace and forgiveness on the other side, once you start caring again.

Sorry, Luke. Sorry, God. I'm ready to do better.

Gritting My Teeth in Front of Another Daytime Television Show...

"It's not about whether you stay married or not; it's about you."

Thank you for that lovely piece of WRONG, Miss Guest Author on Dr. Phil. Argh! This is exactly the kind of screwy advice which is ruining families across the world. That along with other gems such as:
"Be true to yourself."
and "The most important thing is your happiness."

The worst part is, all of this stuff sounds totally logical, and even enlightened when a petite, soft-spoken woman is crying on the stage because her husband has had multiple affairs. Millions of viewers across the country want the talk show hosts to say "empower yourself and leave the sack-of-worthlessness that is your husband." They WANT to give her a big hug and say, "You can do better than this, Honey. The cost of your marriage is too high, and you need to look out for #1, for once."

But, I believe wholeheartedly that there is no satisfaction in living life for yourself. I'm not saying a woman being dragged through the dirt should take it wordlessly. I wouldn't suggest that physical abuse or verbal threats or marital unfaithfulness is okay (or even "tolerable"). All of them are disgusting and anyone in those situations is right to demand a change. But the LAST thing we need in this country is more people looking out for #1. Don't allow yourself to be walked on, but don't walk out either.

I don't want to be true to myself--my sin nature is ugly. And when I spend too much time thinking of my own happiness, I get restless, mean, and quite UNhappy. I'd rather end each day completely exausted and miserable because I'm pouring everything into my relationships with nothing in return than to embark on a fruitless quest to find fulfillment in myself. How many people need to go through ugly divorces when "the stakes get too high," before we realize there may be other solutions? What would happen if a generation decided to keep their vows instead of letting the fear of pain make them run?

Lord, let me be someone concerned with meeting needs, resting in the knowledge I already have everything I need in You. Remind me that the answer to a husband's selfishness is not to become selfish in return.

Do You Prefer "Fashion Victim" or "Ensembly Challenged?"

(Post title from the movie Clueless.)

It was a naked day today. I pulled every item out of my closet (and several articles from Luke's) before collapsing in an exasperated heap on the bed--still undressed.
Eventually, my knight in shining armor pulled the blankets off my head, shoved a random outfit in my hand, and declared we would have a good day today if he had to sew a smile on me. And...I glared at him.

I just didn't want to hear about how he "never spends more than 20 seconds" deciding on an outfit and that I "give myself too much time" to change my mind, and "men don't fret" about such insignificant things as clothes because they realize they are "still the same person" regardless of what they drape themselves in, and "by the way, babe, you've looked good in everything you've put on today." I glared at him because I knew he was wrong, and I was fat and pasty white and ugly....not to mention, all of my clothes sucked.

But, he's a stubborn man, so he reiterrated his ultimatum and sat in the car until I caved, got dressed, and joined him. Then he took me to Plato's Closet and let me spend $75 on several new items for my wardrobe. Aaaaaand, even though I had to decline an awful lot of self-esteem-killing tops due to their magnifying effect on a couple of assets, and even though I didn't find a pair of dress pants that didn't look painted on, and even though I'm pretty sure the mirrors in the dressing room were bought second-hand from a hobby shop ("oh, you don't literally want an hour-glass figure?"), I still feel world's better than earlier, basking in the act of service Luke bestowed on me.

...so happy in fact, that I agreed to watch soccer. Ugh. I think I'll need to wear my new summer dress for this...

When the Giver Met the Saver

So, anyone else ever cried in the middle of Walmart? Over cashews?

I've only done it once.
But, after 35 minutes in the same aisle, debating (fighting) with my significant other about what to give his dad for Father's Day, I couldn't contain my emotions any longer. First, I growled several angry comments. Then I cried.

Once I heard a preacher say that God doesn't want to give you a mate who is compatible. Rather, God often puts together a man and woman who will rub eachother the wrong way in order to make them more like Jesus. A direct quote: "How are you ever going to learn unconditional love if you are married to a [person] who meets all of your conditions?" (Paul Washer. You can hear the audio sermon here: http://www.sermonaudio.com/sermoninfo.asp?SID=31810183555)

Not only do I believe this is true, but the Cashew Incident is a prime example. It's just like God to put together a Giver and a Saver--two personalities guaranteed to butt heads when it's time to buy a present. I'm in love with my Giving husband, but he would spend $50 on every person he knew, for every birthday, Christmas, and groundhog's day because that's how he expresses his love.

One stop at Walmart to spend "less than $5" on his dad, turns into three candybars for each father, turns into candybars and a tub of cashews for everyone, and I just can't take it anymore! My love language is quality time, so I tried convincing Luke it was enough to be seeing his loved ones in person--if we ever made it out of the candy aisle. But he was sure he had to spend money--our money--to give a proper gift.

What's the moral of this story? Well, it's not, "Don't cry over cashews." Given the exact same circumstance, I'd fall apart all over again. And, hopefully, Luke and I would reach the same compromise--when Luke put DOWN the nuts and agreed to one candybar for each father we would see.

But, I'd like to summarize with the old cliche, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." I learned that Luke and I think very differently, and it almost killed me. Plus, we didn't necessarily resolve the underlying issue. (Luke still hasn't learned my way of thinking is better.) But, the fact that we are "incompatible" doesn't mean we are wrong for eachother. And that realization makes us stronger.


P.S. Luke's birthday was a few days ago. I got him several bottles worth of adult beverage....and a container of cashews.

Check, Please

My husband took me out for lunch today.
I paid.
So, can I still say he took me out? (Note: he drove.)

Regardless, I'm reminded that I really enjoy looking over a table at him and making small talk about the food, the decor, and the man coughing up flegm in the middle of the restaurant. Makes me wonder why I almost let my greasy hair and slight headache keep us from going....

Thanks for lunch, Hon! Or, well, you know....Thanks for driving.

Just Read the Song, Amanda.

In my defense, Luke took a VERY long time on his Music Therapy assignment. He was supposed to find a song (any song) that would meet one of the goals of therapy, which are "inspiring movement, teaching about emotions, encouraging social interaction".....and one I can't remember.

Anyway, after watching him perform random Google searches for at least three hours, I offered a couple of perfectly good suggestions. Just about every kid song ever written meets all four goals! But, he had a high standard, and--by the fourth hour--he decided the only way to get what he wanted was to write an original song. Since I knew it would take another couple hours from there, I started reading in bed until I felt sleepy. Alright, fine, I didn't exactly read quietly. Now and then I called out, "Are you done YET?" and "I don't understand why every, single assignment takes you a full day."

But, the final sin of the night came when Luke marched proudly into the bedroom, holding a copy of his finished song, and I refused to read it. It was nearly 11:00pm, and I had turned off the light already. But the fact is, there was no reason not to turn the light back on and spend 2 minutes affirming my husband's work. Instead, I said point blank, "I'm so sick of this assignment that I've grown to hate this song before I've even read it. You want me to be encouraging, and I can't do it right now."

Fail.

Had I killed my pride and been a servant, this is what I would have seen:

Sammy’s Song
By: Luke McKinney (2010)

Hello friends this is my pal Sammy,
He woke up one day without his short-term memory
But we can help him out by remembering for him,
‘Cause he won’t have a clue by the end of this song.

He forgets that growing up he had a best friend, Willie
Who never left his house for fear of getting chilly
He also had a neighbor, who was really quite odd,
He had a foot for a hand and his name was Tod.

Will you help me remember he begs and pleads?
I don’t want to forget them after everyone leaves.
If you remember their names and a little bit about ’em
I will write it all down and they won’t be forgotten.

Well, Sammy had a dog that wouldn’t do any tricks
He wasn’t much for playing dead or fetching any sticks
But he could bark a tune that’d stop a baby’s cry,
It worked every time so he named him Lullaby,

Will you help me remember he begs and pleads?
I don’t want to forget them after everyone leaves.
If you remember their names and a little bit about them
I will write it all down and they won’t be forgotten.

He wrote the song with Alzheimer's patients in mind, and it goes on to ask them for details they remember about each character. But, the point is, I missed the chance to enjoy a goofy song and simultaneously build up my husband, and why? Now, I can't even remember the reason I refused.

Major Victory... (OR, "Two Words You NEVER Say to Your Wife")

Yesterday started out rough.
Luke and I were supposed to be enjoying a "date day," because he was scheduled to work on our usual day (Sunday....today).
Anyway, around 9:15, just as we were beginning to enjoy the fact that we were sleeping in, Luke got a call from one of those notoriously-chatty friends. You know, the ones who literally surprise you with how long they talk? The ones regarding whom you must decide whether you have a couple hours to spare, or else let it go to voicemail? ....yeah.

Don't get me wrong. This person is a dear friend of both of ours, and I appreciate the wisdom and support he offers Luke. Their relationship is a blessing when they get a chance to talk at the appropriate times. However, Luke doesn't always choose that appropriate time... And that is why I was dismayed when he jumped up and took the call.

Then, twenty minutes into their conversation, I may have wandered into range of Luke's hearing and mumbled...."This isn't how I pictured this morning." What I didn't expect was for Luke to look up with his eyes narrowed at me and mouth the words "Shut up" before returning to his conversation.

Oh, no he didn't!
Yes. And, believe me, in the remaining 45 minutes before he hung up, I had plenty of time to work up a good fume about it.

Now, this is not a post about how a change of perspective showed me I was wrong. At least not totally. Maybe I shouldn't have mumbled my complaint--but Luke was wrong, wrong, wrong, too! First of all, he is to blame for the fact that I associate this particular friend with very long conversations, because he usually makes excuses like, "I didn't know it would take that long" or "he had a lot to say." In other words, he often acts like a victim with no control over the amount of time spent in dialog.

He has never said to this friend (or anyone, that I know of), "I really need to go now" or "I promised my wife_____, so can I call you another time?" If I knew I could trust him to protect our time together and not let hours slip by when he's talking on the phone, I wouldn't have started panicking when 20 minutes crept by.

And, second of all, the phrase "Shut up" will never be okay with me. Bad, Luke.

But, my personal battle occurred after I had given an earful to my love, explained where he was wrong, received an apology, and STILL felt like I didn't want to look at him. The urge to hold a grudge was strong, and I allowed myself to brood for at least 30 minutes before I thought about this blog....and the fact that I would have to write about the event...and the fact that I was acting according to my feelings and not based on my beliefs....

And you know what? I won! I prayed--okay, begged--that God would help me be a grown up and forgive Luke. And I decided I didn't want to be a slave to my emotions. In His mercy, God allowed me about three seconds worth of feeling like, maybe, I wasn't married to the scum of the earth, and I took the opportunity to give Luke a hug before I could revert back to angry-wife. And the rest of the day wasn't the horrible tragedy we have experienced in the past, when we began in a similarly bad way and I chose NOT to be mature enough to let it go....