Mawwiage is what bwings us togedder today...

I don't know much about marriage.  Truer words were never written.  In fact, a lot of people will tell you that I don't know much about life at all.  I'm only 26.0274 of the way into this gig.  You'll have to forgive my ignorance.  (No, really.  You have to.  Jesus said.)

I promised myself I would wait an entire year before I wrote anything about being a wife.  (Clearly, my promises count for a lot.)  But last night we had our umpteenth thousand fight, and I knew that before I could blog about anything else, I had to blog about this.  (God loves me a lot, that He would allow me to share these things with you.)

Before we can continue, let me set up the framework.  My dear husband is a nerd.  Before he took Financial Peace University a few years ago, that might have hurt his feelings.  But Dave Ramsey is the LAW in our house, and if Dave Ramsey says that Thomas is a nerd, then Thomas is proud to be a nerd.  I love my hubby a LOT, but he likes his perfectly ordered life. 

I, on the other hand, am a free spirit.  (I knew this before Dave Ramsey told me so.)  My idea of a perfectly ordered life means that when I drop my towels on the bedroom floor, they are in piles by color.  (I should probably mention that all of my towels are the same color.)

You can clearly see that Thomas and I are perfect for each other.

Last night, I dropped the ball on being a good wife.  Hard.  On his foot.  My perfectly ordered husband needed me to tell him that I could respect the budget he set in place.  He needed to hear that he could trust me with our money and our plan.  He needed that word of affirmation.

I was 14 hours into my day, and I had just gotten out of class.  My class is on one side of campus, and my car was on the other side of campus.  It was windy and cold, and it was getting dark outside.  There were some men who were jacked up on drugs close by.  I was tired and cold and scared, and I needed the security of my husband's voice, not a lecture on finances.

It was a recipe for disaster.  And I lost my ever loving mind.

Before you start to think that's an exaggeration, let me assure you that I dropped SEVERAL colorful sentence enhancers that I wouldn't say in front of my pastor, went on an hour long shopping spree, and by the time I got home I had two new movies and some cookie dough to cuddle with.  Yep.  I sure did prove he could trust me with our money.

I know that right now you are reading this thinking, "OK, when is she going to start talking about Jesus?"

YOU NOTICED HE WAS MISSING TOO???

So did my husband.

Somewhere between one town and another, my facebook post from earlier that day started creeping into my mind.  In case you missed it, I put up a link to a passage of scripture where Jesus poured out His mercy.  You can read about that here.  Jesus, with mercy on his mind, took the cross knowing he was paying for the sins of both the men who hung there with Him.  Jesus heard the criminal's cry and met him in paradise. And I couldn't let my husband off the hook.

By the time my anger had burned off, I couldn't remember what had fueled it in the first place.  Isn't it my joy to operate our home under the finances my husband plans?  Don't I love to tell him that he's doing a wonderful job with our money?  Emphatically, abundantly YES.  What in the world had happened?  I was tired, cold, and scared.  Was that all the excuse I really had for the mess I made?  I had laid down my Jesus and picked up myself. 

Thankfully, I have four women I can text who will pray for my marriage and counsel me in how to be a better wife.  Last night when I got home, Thomas Estabrook loved me like Jesus.  He heated up a plate of food for me, watched one of our new movies with me, and kissed me on the forehead.  (Jesus loves me a lot.)

If you're looking for what I have to share about marriage and being a good wife, the answer is nothing.  I've only been around for 26.0274 years.  Here's what I know about life so far:  in every single area, I fail unless I lay me down and let Him work through me.  If that's the only thing I ever learn about life, it will always be enough.