I had an interesting day yesterday that I'm still thinking about.
I bought an entirely hideous, almost-free lamp off Kijiji with the intention of making it my new project. I asked my hubby to go pick it up for me because I told the lady I was coming pronto and Baby Rae was going to wake up soon and she would be hungry. I happen to be her source of food. Him getting the lamp was obviously the most logical solution. Did I mention he had just gotten back from picking up some storage shelves for us?
He said no.
I even tried begging with big puppy dog eyes and a hug...
Didn't work.
Oh, and the car needs gas...will you fill it up while you're out? He says.
So I did what any normal wife would do (right...?):
I sulked.
Baby Rae woke up just then so I could feed her first...then go run out and get the lamp myself. I sulked to the car. I sulked all the way there. I was disappointed and grumpy that my hubby wouldn't do something extra-nice for me. I started fuming to myself about how unkind, how unfair that was, 'after all I do for him'...how I do this, and that, and blah, blah, blah...and on and on my list went. Before long, I had wound this small incident into a (completely untrue) representation of our relationship, with me cast as the martyr: self-sacrificing and unappreciated.
...Gag.
And all because he didn't want to go pick up a stinkin' lamp for me.
Even while it was all unraveling in my psyche, I knew at the back of my mind that this was all rather melodramatic. Which it was. Entirely. Utterly. Completely, even.
So. Once I had picked up the lamp and was on my way back home, I was able to think it through a little better.
I needed help getting out of pity-party mode...so I sent a silent plea heavenward with a request for help to think clearly, for-goodness-sake. I continued my prayer aloud as I drove alone down a busy street.
What I would have given to know what others were thinking as they saw me visibly engaged in an apparently one-sided conversation. Ha.
My prayer went something like this:
"Heavenly Father...I am being a big baby right now.
And I feel silly coming to thee, whining about someone not appreciating me this one small time...knowing how Thou experiences that times a billion ALL the time. I don't want to complain and whine about it. I just need help being a little more like thee. I really need to love D-Hubby better. It's not really about whether it's fair or not, is it? It's about how I react when it isn't. I'm not doing so hot there. I'm kind of having a temper tantrum, actually. I do love serving him and going the extra mile for him...but kind of lose my enthusiasm for it when I don't feel like I'm getting that back. But who would know what that feels like better than thee?..So..thanks for that, for loving me so perfectly even when I don't appreciate it. Or deserve it. Please help me to love D-Hubby like that...to love and serve him when it's hard to do."
And I felt heard.
I felt comforted.
I felt...loved.
I've decided that it's not easy being a wifey. And it's especially hard to be the perfect wifey that I've always wanted to be. For all my whining and wailing, I wasn't remembering how he was watching the baby right now. Or that he had just gotten back from moving a couple storage shelves for us. Or all the ba-zillion times he has done extra-nice things for me. It doesn't matter if, for some strange reason, I'm under the high-and-mighty assumption that they don't "add up"...because that's not what love is about...it's not about keeping score. It's about loving someone no matter what.
And I think that if I really want to learn to love like that, then I'd better be prepared to handle myself a little better when given the opportunity to learn how: the opportunity to love when it's hard to do.
I'm really grateful for such a great hubby, in case that message somehow got lost along the way. I'm so stinkin' lucky to have him, it's ridiculous.
And I'm especially glad he loves me.
He even loves me when I sulk about having to go pick up an ugly lamp off of Kijiji all by myself.
Now that's impressive.
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