This is me. This kid…this is my inner-(mini) me.
And NO, it’s not my mom talking. It’s my pastor husband.
This picture is HOW I FEEL after church—like I want to bang my head against the wall because my husband won’t stop talking.
Being married to a relationally gifted man of Christ certainly has its perks.
- Everyone is a friend
- No party is boring
- Often we are the party.
- (Unless the party is in a foul mood…then we are the party pooper)
- We can go to a mall, Starbucks, restaurant, golf course, etc… and come home with five new best friends.
- There are no off-topic conversations. EVERYTHING is up for grabs.
But there is a dark side too.
- I rarely leave church without my three kids and I experiencing debilitating hunger pains. It’s usually 2:00pm before we get out of the parking lot.
- I’ve heard, “I just have to talk to this one guy” a bazillion times.
- There is an unspoken acknowledgement between the kids and I that if Tim forgets something at church and has to “run back in real quick” we will probably wait another 30 minutes with the engine running.
- And of course, every conversation is for Jesus, so how can we argue?
I adore my husband but sometimes he drives me bazonkers in the best of ways.
And he looks at me, wide eyed in befuddlement? “Why are you irritated darling? What’s wrong?”
(Because this is HIS normal)
And I want to scream, “Your normal is my crazy!”
But instead I just pray for patience. And every week I suck it up with a weak smile.
And then God gives me this little gift to tell me he hears my heart.
And I finally feel understood. Heard. Affirmed. Validated.
Because God knows, I’m just tryna leave!
And he loves me anyway…