Sunday mornings are probably my favorite around here. Usually, I’ve had the opportunity to rest a bit the day before so some Sundays I wake up feeling slightly rested in spite of chronic pain and fatigue. We get up a little earlier than we need so that we can get ready for our Lord’s special day as calmly as possible. Sometimes we play music in the kitchen via iPhone-in-bowl that fills our tiny home. My wonderful hubby brings me a pre-coffee cup of coffee to the bathroom to sip while I get ready so that I might face humanity kindly. We walk hand in hand to our tiny gray V-4 and right when we hit the onramp “God of Heaven” fills our car and hearts with promises.
We finally make our way to our seats next to our people, and for the 100th time, I thank God that our church has these very comfortable seats instead of pews that can be distractingly painful.
Of course, our lives don’t always seem this calm and predictable. As we move toward a big life change our personalities, have clashed as of late. I want to know every detail and have it on a sticky note somewhere. I want to plan and actively move toward it. Impulsive and determined that is me. My dear husband is cautious and detail-oriented.
I’m a dreamer.
He’s a realist.
As luck would have it this particular Sunday, our wise Pastor was speaking on the importance of doing the Lord’s work. Not just doing it but having a plan, moving towards it and stepping out in faith. I kept staring at my dear man hoping he would notice my gaze.
“If only I could see inside his head!”
“He better be listening! This is what he needs to hear!”
I wanted to poke him with my self-righteous elbow and say “See! I was right!”
Thankfully he did not notice my glare or my telepathic nudging. However, later that evening he came to me and mentioned how the service had impacted his heart! I was excited to finally be on the same page…but also instantly convicted. How foolish of me to try and play God. How dare I presume I know what he needs and doesn’t need!
It is God who can bring about a changed heart. NOT a nagging, nudging wife. See, I think I have discovered the most wonderful part of life as a wife. I get a front row seat to watch my man become more and more a man of God. What a sacred lovely dance. HE orders the steps, and he follows. Act after act until in the end his performance is judged as well done by a good and faithful servant.
I think that is probably, definitely the most wonderful part of marriage.
About the Author
My name is Heather Jones. Just Jones. I did not get the glamorous Italian last name I had hoped would be mine to sign forever. But I think it fits. Life isn’t glamorous. It’s hard and it can be beautiful if we let it. I am a wife, teacher, and mother of other people’s children. I’m a foster mom. Our lives are broken, blessed and beautiful. Connect with Heather online at her blog, Beakers and Bach.
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