Warning:
the following post may contain content that may upset or hurt the feelings of
certain individuals. Not because it’s
nasty or rude (because it’s definitely not), but simply because of the nature
of the post. If you think you could
possibly be one of these individuals, please just stop reading now, because (respectfully)
it’s not something I will apologize for.
Lately
I’ve been thinking. I’ve been thinking
about a lot of things, but mostly I’ve been thinking about the title and position
of “husband”, and exactly what that means for me as “wife”. I’ve reached several interesting and rather
enlightening conclusions, but what has stood out to me the most is how my
thoughts on the matter have shifted over the years.
When
I was a young girl, “husband” was something to fantasize over. I, like almost every girl my age, had a list
of all the attributes I wanted my future husband to have. Among other things on the list were “handsome”,
“smart”, “Godly”, and “good with/wants kids”; things that I thought were most
important at the time.
As
a teenager, “husband” was a fanciful ideology, so close within reach. But then, marriage to me really meant “pretty
white dress that I get to wear”. It didn’t
really register to me as extending beyond the wedding day (obviously I knew it
did, but that’s the best way I know how to put it).
As
a young bride (and still teenager), “husband” shifted from a wonderful fantasy,
to a heavy iron chain that I couldn’t escape.
Not that mine was bad; honestly, I was very very lucky in that my
ex-husband was (and still is, as far as I can tell) a very good man. But the wedding was over, the honeymoon
ended, and reality sunk in. I’d jumped
too soon, moved too fast, and said vows to someone I never should have said
them to. And so as each day went by, the
ring on my finger felt more and more like a brand than a sign of commitment.
Now
my view of “husband” has shifted once more, although this time I pray it never
changes again. Once again, “husband”
incurs thoughts of “handsome”, “smart”, “Godly”, and “good with/wants kids.” “Husband” now also incurs thoughts of “stubborn”,
“maddening”, “difficult”, and “frustrating”.
But more importantly, now when I think of the word “husband”, I
automatically think of something else:
“Wife”.
For
the first time, I find myself consumed with what it means to be a wife. A *good* wife, that is. It’s never really been something I’d given
much thought to (I guess I always assumed I’d be a natural, haha), but now it
fills my thoughts daily. And so far this
is what I’ve got:
Being
a good wife means loving my husband unconditionally, no matter how I may feel
about him that day. It means pulling my
own weight, but being humble enough to ask for his help if I need it. It means offering my own help – even silently
– to him, whether he needs it or not. It
means forgiving him when he has wronged me, and begging his forgiveness when I
have wronged him. But most importantly,
it means giving myself to him.
Not
just physically (though that too, haha ;-)), but in every way: emotionally,
mentally, etc. It means to make him my
second priority (the first being God), and put him above anyone else in my
life. It means to make a conscious
effort to keep him on the edge of my consciousness at all times (if not front
and center). And most importantly, it
means to love and put him and his needs and wants before my own.
It’s
not an easy thing to do. I wish I could
say that it’s cake, but it’s not. I’m
human, I get busy, and I have feelings that aren’t always conducive to a loving
relationship. But so far, as I involve
God more and more into my life and my marriage, it’s getting easier every day.
And
I’ve discovered something very interesting: the more I give myself to this
marriage and devote myself to becoming a better wife, the more “husband” starts
to mean one more thing:
Freedom.
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