Sunday, August 26, 2012

Keeping a Record of Rights

Enjoyed an evening out with our friends the Maxwells (pictured here with my dear friend Ali).

Yesterday, I fluttered around the house doing this, that, and the other.  While I worked, I silently stewed about my husband and everything I perceived he wasn't doing (or doing wrong) around the house.

Finally, I blurted out, "I'm really trying to not get angry, but you... (then I unleashed a litany of complaints)."

He listened and then with a sly smile responded, "I thought love doesn't keep a record of wrongs."

I glared.

He continued, "If we're keeping records, what happened to the records of what I'm doing right."

I stood speechless.

The man had a point.  

In fact, I think those same exact words have tumbled off my lips a time or two.  I stopped and thought about the things I was angry about and then started to remember all the stuff he's done right.

The first things that flashed into my mind were times he helped me that very day.  He watched the boys so I could complete a training run.  He made breakfast for everyone.  He escorted one son to a football game.

Then, I thought about the bigger things he's done right:

-He gets my humor and I get his.  Our home is filled with laughter.

-He listens to me.  

-He's not afraid to tell me the truth.

-He provides really good advice.

-He loves our kids and spends as much time as he can with them. 

-He works hard and share the fruits of that work generously.

-He's compassionate and kind.

-He's firm in his faith.

...and on my list continued.  

After awhile, my anger simmered and the little things I was irritated about didn't seem so bad.  We agreed that if records were to be kept, we would keep them for rights.  

Let's just hope I remember.


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