I may be a slow learner, but I am learning! Yesterday I told Chuck who leads our men's group that I was planning on taking in Izzi's 6:00 basketball game, which would make me late for our men's Bible study tonight. As it turned out, she was home sick today and they postponed the game till Saturday. Also as it turned out, tonight was a work night, and there weren't too many projects scheduled, so I figured it would be a good night to visit Matt's knife shop to buff the weights on the grandfather clock I'm refinishing.
The buffing job didn't turn out as nice as I had hoped; I think it would have been better had I elbow-greased it with polishing compound. On top of that, I feel guilty about not being with the guys. Actually, it's not so much guilt as a sense of having missed out. I may be introverted, but apparently I'm no hermit! There are times I would love to just stay home, but tonight having chosen to do just that, there is an empty place inside me that only these guys can fill. You can be sure that next week, I'll be there getting filled with the fellowship only they can provide.
On the bright side, although it's taken most of our forty five years of marriage, I've learned that I can't always depend on my feelings to gauge how we are doing. To my shame, I confess that too many times when things didn't feel right I would badger Linda with the old "What's wrong?" Linda is a pretty upbeat person. So for her to hear her melancholic husband essentially accusing her of being upset, angry, distant, not affectionate enough, ad nauseum, without coming completely unhinged is testimony to her patience. I used to do that pretty regularly. But this morning I woke with that vague unsettled feeling that something was wrong. Note that word "woke." I don't know if I had weird dreams or what, but before my feet hit the floor, I knew the direction the day would take if I didn't get hold of my thoughts. 2 Corinthians 10:5 tells us to take every thought captive to Christ. I seem to spend an inordinate amount of time trying to round up those critters into the Jesus corral, but it's what I have to do. So I check to make sure everything is OK between Linda and myself, simply by testing the waters. I have learned to frame the question differently than I used to. Instead of asking, "What's wrong," implying that it's her problem, I now own up to my own feelings saying, "Things don't seem right to me. Are you OK, or is it me?" Sometimes I need her perspective to begin to figure out stuff going on inside me.
Today I asked that kind of question, and although most of the day I felt "off," I know it's me, not her. And tonight, I think I have those stray thoughts rounded up so I can sleep peacefully. And I am thankful for my wife who has put up with me all these years and helped me navigate the waters of my own soul. Apart from Christ himself, she has been God's greatest gift, an instrument in his hands to help me become an instrument for his praise.
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