Satisfaction and contentment twinge in my heart while I fasten her diaper. It’s a small feeling that I get almost every weekend. It’s a quiet feeling that you don’t really recognize but you know it’s there. I quickly dress Sister and holler for Husband to find Bubby’s shoes so we can get to the store before everyone’s nap time.
There’s something calming in the busy that invariably comes on Saturdays. I like when our little family is all together and Husband’s home. We have to get the mundane done on the weekend but there’s contentment in it. The contentment comes from feeling complete.
We’re all home together and in some weird way, we’re bonding.
I usually find that with all this bonding comes the disruption of an argument. Nasty bickering that erupts with me saying to myself “What the heck happened? We were having a good time!”
We start out in that rhythm you get when you and your spouse are maneuvering the everyday with your kids. We know who’s got who when we’re loading up the car. We know who’s carrying what, who packed what.
I get out my side of the car and walk around to load up Sis in the carrier. Husband goes around the other side and wrestles Bubby out of his car seat. We have our silent groove of the already understood. You know what rhythm I’m talking about.
And as we head home from all the hubbub we make a last minute decision to eat out. Two minutes later I’ve changed my mind when I see Sister yawn in the back seat.
Which means an argument ensues.
The smallest conflict erupts and there I am asking myself that question: “What the heck just happened? Everything was fine.”
I used to think the fights we had were trivial. Who will load the dishwasher? Where should we eat dinner? Whose turn is it to take the trash out?
But in that moment in our car, voices raise and I’m not sure what we’re arguing about. We’re not yelling about my change of mind or his irritation. Not really. What we’re yelling about is the unresolved arguments from months ago.
In the heat of those arguments you can’t see it. Not usually. You don’t see the past fueling the present. You’re too clouded to see you’re just as much to blame as he is.
We’re yelling because neither one would submit to forgiveness. We held on to anger like we thought it would save us all the while drowning.
We’re yelling because love languages aren’t being considered.
We’re yelling because we’re flawed. We’re messy.
We’re not really arguing about where to eat. We’re arguing because our hearts are hanging on to the anger from last month’s fight. The fights about whose fault it is that we’re not happy. Fights about selfish this and me that.How I realized my husband and I weren't really fighting about where to eat #marriage #marriedlifeClick To Tweet
I’m washed over with regret after he’s dropped off Sis and I at home. The yelling in front of the kids replays in my mind. I say to myself I’m done with all this anger and miscommunication. I’m done with the unforgiveness from yesterday.
I’m done with not changing.
I know if he comes home and we act like nothing happened that I might explode.
I know I’ll explode again.
This is the cross roads. That moment when you have to decide if you’re going to act like nothing happened and argue about yesterday’s resentment in tomorrow’s bickering or if you’re going to give up the anger that fuels your selfishness. The selfishness that forgets the plank in your own eye..
It’s the moment when I fall to my knees because I’m tired of trying to do it on my own.
It’s the moment when a new feeling stirs and the anger becomes smaller.
Hope comes into my heart and reminds me of Grace.
And as I’m kneeling in my kitchen I know that I’ve got to grab onto grace in that moment, otherwise I’ll forget and lose my nerve. I’ll hide away from saying I’m sorry first. I’ll try to remove his speck while the plank is gauging away in my own eye. (Matt 7:3)
When they arrive home and Husband walks through the kitchen I make my decision.
I step closer to him instead of away.