Hi folks. I’m nestled in with an electric blanket and a book near by waiting for my fingers to turn it’s pages. But “the blog” called my name. I must update I thought. What’s the whisfam been up to?
Sunday morning I was GRUMPY GILLS!!! big time! Imagine that, right before church. And what was it about? Oh yes. My husband had just arrived back home after setting up for church and I asked him if he could help because we were running late getting ready. And he commented back something smart… which didn’t go over well with the uncaffeinated wife who’s not a morning person. From then on steam poured out my ears and I left a trail of fire where ever I walked. Thankfully my words were few.
We headed to church. About a song or two into the service Jake had walked over to turn down the lights down and then came back and when he did, my heart was softened (as only church (read: God/fellowship/worship) can do) and I looked at him with a smirk and we both started laughing. I then muttered, ” I want to punch you in the face right now “… and we both laughed.
First of all it does not matter how grumpy I am before church –which happens regularly — A song or two in I’m humbled and softened. If Jake and I had argued on the way I’m now apologizing (and it’s usually my fault, seriously). And I never feel God’s heavy hand but a gentle rebuke. So gentle that I just melt.
Second whenever my husband has irked me, but I’ve gotten over it, I want to beat him up. I always say, “You’re lucky I’m feeling nice today.” And then I punch him. It’s one of our love languages. I wrestle him with all my might which gets my aggression out, and he just shoves my head into the ground, or puts me in a headlock, or catapults me onto the bed. He gets a good laugh and I’ve released a lot of stress. Hey whatever works.
I think I do that because in 99.9% of our arguments I’m in the wrong and I know it but too prideful to admit it. So then when I’ve gotten over it, rather than admit my wrongs and ask for forgiveness I pick a wrestling match with him because his rightness and goodness just irks me. So I have to beat him up. I just have to take it to him. Let him have it. I have to show him who’s boss. It’s my way of saying I’m sorry, I know I was wrong and your were right (again).
Yes you read that right. My way of saying sorry, in other words, is to physically pummel my husband until he’s crying out for mercy.
And you know what Mr. Do-No-Wrong does??? When he is the one in the wrong. On that rare, blue moon, occasion? He admits it and says he’s sorry. Like right then. Sincerely. He doesn’t have to wait, or let off steam, or cool down. He just humbles himself and says, “I’m sorry.”
Where’s he at I need to punch him…