Dear Honey, I know it’s a little weird when people fawn all over their spouses on social media – it’s like, what are they trying to prove? But hey, I can’t judge – Lord knows I’ve done my share of Facebook declarations of love for you, so why stop now?
Today, I was with my family at Chic-fil-A, and my two-year-old daughter was eating a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich that my wife had in her purse. After my daughter finished her fries, she asked if she could dip her sandwich in her ketchup. “That’s gross – no,” I said.
I got a call from my Aunt Kathy Jo last Friday morning. She told me she was wearing her pajamas, a fur coat, and rollers; and she was standing in her daughter’s yard trying to round up the dogs. “My daughter’s neighbor is laughing at me,” she said, laughing along with him.
I didn’t start the weekend trying to be a sorry husband and father – it came quite naturally. My wife was sick in bed with a severe cold, which was no fun for me. It meant that she expected me to take responsibility for the general well-being of her and our two toddlers. Of course, I was totally willing to do this – you know, for like 90 minutes. But then I realized I was trapped in my house and would be serving my family all day long.
Ladies, I know it’s tempting to think your husband purposefully tries to be insensitive to your deepest insecurities and fears, but the fact is, we often aren’t even aware of them. You’re struggling with major body image issues, and we think you can’t figure out what to wear. You feel isolated and friendless, and we think you’re just being needy.
I thought Anna and Don Walker* had the kind of marriage I wanted – maybe they did at the time. That was 15 years ago, when I was in college. Back then, Anna and Don were the kind of couple you never dreamed would divorce. They were steady, salt-of-the-earth folks who effortlessly served others and gave the impression that they really liked each other.
“Daddy!” my two-year-old daughter yelled from her bed last Friday morning after she woke up. I hadn’t gotten to see her the day before, so I was looking forward to spending time with her before heading to work. I went into her room and picked her up, expecting her to squirm around and ask for her favorite stuffed animal. Instead, she wrapped her arms around my neck and put her head on my shoulder.
All I wanted to do was vote in peace. Not this Election Day. It all started when my wife went to the bathroom while I waited in line with a few hundred other people to vote. The poll worker came out and appeared to split the line in two – or something – I couldn’t tell, because I was just trying to keep an eye on my two daughters who were playing on the lawn.
It’s 9:35 on Monday night, and tomorrow morning, I’m supposed to publish my next post on Spiritual Klutz. It’s already finished – a witty, sarcastic piece about a peculiar experience my wife and I recently had with a group of Christians we met for the first time.
Four years ago, you came down the aisle to meet me with a calm, glowing, otherworldly confidence. And although I didn’t know what I was getting into, I knew it was good – very good. I was right.
The other day, my wife and I were in the backyard with Daniela, our 22-month-old daughter, who was playing with a beach ball. My wife ran a few steps beyond her and said, “Come on, Daniela. Run!”
“Make sure and record as many of your child’s moments as you can, especially in the early years,” said my coworker. “You’d be surprised how quickly she will change.” I thought it was good advice, but I didn’t want to break out the video camera every time my daughter said a new word. So instead, I decided to get a journal and – every day – write one thing my daughter did and one thing my wife did.
Recently, my wife and I decided to have a weekend of focused prayer in our home, to lay aside our worldly cares and set our minds on Christ. Things did not go as planned. The whole weekend, my one-year-old daughter was miserably upset, due to a bad cold, which left her with an endless fountain of snot running down her face. And though she was hungry, she was too miserable to eat, which drove her to a wailing, screaming fit.
At the end of our wedding reception, my wife and I walked past the rows of cheering family and friends, climbed into the getaway car, and drove away, utterly euphoric. On the way to the hotel, all the bickering we had done during the engagement seemed to evaporate. Truly, this was a fresh start. I remember thinking, “Wow, those vows really did change me. I don’t believe we’ll ever argue again.” We would not, in fact, argue again – until four days into our honeymoon.
My wife and I recently had one of those unpleasant, conflict-related experiences which are fun to laugh about later, but are not at all funny at the moment. I’m not actually sure we’re at the laughing stage yet, but as a therapeutic measure, I’m going to go ahead and tell the story (yes, I have my wife’s permission).
Joshua Rogers 