Today I bring in a new year and finish my Best Of series. From time to time, I post about my wife. I love her, but sometimes she is Blog-Gold! The bet part is that she doesn't read me regularly, so I can normally post what I want about her. She doesn't know about it until people start commenting,...so thank you for that my faithful readers.
But here's the post (about my wife) that has received the most hits.
Ham on a String
If she had been a horse, I would have grabbed my rifle. Did I just compare my wife to a horse? Neigh!
Being the competitive woman that she is, my wife limped home, scoring the first run in what would turn out to be a losing effort. But at least she scored, right? Don't worry, the jokes wouldn't last long, as the pain got worse that night and the next day included a couple trips to doctors, a purchase of crutches and the realization that her softball season was over.
That's when the real pain started. Not for her, but for me. Because despite the fact that I said and did all the right things, aside from the reference to an old gray mare, my head was not where it should have been.
Because here is what went through my head:
My wife can barely walk right now. What will this mean for household order? The cooking? The cleaning? Can the kids fend for themselves? Probably not. Bah. Oh, and the kitty litter is downstairs. Should I offer to help my wife down there so she can clean out the box? Would that be wrong?
Well, outwardly everything was done correctly. I cooked for a week (sorry, kids). I took care of the cleaning and the kids and even the kitty litter. It would be almost 3 weeks before Jen saw the basement again. We won't discuss what it looked like in the meanwhile.
So the real pain was not that I was having to pull double-duty. That was tiring, but you can accomplish more than you realize. The real pain was looking in the mirror and asking myself what kind of man even thinks about stuff like that when his wife gets hurt like she did. Like I said, I did and said all the right things. But then again, so did the Pharisees. Here's one reminder from Jesus on what He thought of those guys;
For I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven. ~Matthew 5:20
Have you ever been there? Your mom is sick and you have to figure out how to grill cheese? Your sibling gets hurt and yo have to help with his chores? Your coworkers call in sick and you have to do their job as well as yours? This list could go on and on.
Basically it comes down to this. When have you made someone else's problem your problem? And not in the compassionate way where you really really care for them, but in the way where you manage to get more sympathy than the person who is actually hurt. When have you made it about you?
Update:
After 2 days, my wife was planning a Willis Reed type comeback for her softball team. When I mentioned this possibility, my wife asked who Willis Reed was. Then my 8-year old son gave all the facts on this 1970's New York Knickerbocker. I love my boy!
But here's the post (about my wife) that has received the most hits.
Ham on a String
Even though I saw it happen, I actually could not believe my eyes. There was no ESPN instant replay, but I didn't need it. My wife had just tore her hamstring. She was coming to third base in a church-league softball game when the coach told her to go home. Little did he know he would soon be sending her to a couch in her home. She turned on the speed, rounded third and almost instantly pulled up lame.
If she had been a horse, I would have grabbed my rifle. Did I just compare my wife to a horse? Neigh!
Being the competitive woman that she is, my wife limped home, scoring the first run in what would turn out to be a losing effort. But at least she scored, right? Don't worry, the jokes wouldn't last long, as the pain got worse that night and the next day included a couple trips to doctors, a purchase of crutches and the realization that her softball season was over.
That's when the real pain started. Not for her, but for me. Because despite the fact that I said and did all the right things, aside from the reference to an old gray mare, my head was not where it should have been.
Because here is what went through my head:
My wife can barely walk right now. What will this mean for household order? The cooking? The cleaning? Can the kids fend for themselves? Probably not. Bah. Oh, and the kitty litter is downstairs. Should I offer to help my wife down there so she can clean out the box? Would that be wrong?
Well, outwardly everything was done correctly. I cooked for a week (sorry, kids). I took care of the cleaning and the kids and even the kitty litter. It would be almost 3 weeks before Jen saw the basement again. We won't discuss what it looked like in the meanwhile.
So the real pain was not that I was having to pull double-duty. That was tiring, but you can accomplish more than you realize. The real pain was looking in the mirror and asking myself what kind of man even thinks about stuff like that when his wife gets hurt like she did. Like I said, I did and said all the right things. But then again, so did the Pharisees. Here's one reminder from Jesus on what He thought of those guys;
For I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven. ~Matthew 5:20
Have you ever been there? Your mom is sick and you have to figure out how to grill cheese? Your sibling gets hurt and yo have to help with his chores? Your coworkers call in sick and you have to do their job as well as yours? This list could go on and on.
Basically it comes down to this. When have you made someone else's problem your problem? And not in the compassionate way where you really really care for them, but in the way where you manage to get more sympathy than the person who is actually hurt. When have you made it about you?
Update:
After 2 days, my wife was planning a Willis Reed type comeback for her softball team. When I mentioned this possibility, my wife asked who Willis Reed was. Then my 8-year old son gave all the facts on this 1970's New York Knickerbocker. I love my boy!
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