My thoughts, ramblings, and my most recent writing out of such things...
Tim's idea of the word care and my idea of the word care are very different. I have a definition that is uniquely been formed by my thoughts and experiences just as Tim's definition has been formed by his.
As much as I want to hold on to the confidence I have that my understanding of caring is more accurate than most people on the planet of which my husband just happens to be included in I do realize this belief shows no love or confidence of others. This idea that I feel things deeper; I value others more; I consider their feelings more than my own; That I place their needs higher than mine- These believes are my attempt to disguise my very own self absorbed motives. I want to believe I am good at caring for others at the cost of actually caring for others.
If I am being honest I often analyze, assume, and criticized others words and actions. I question people's motives. I doubt they would expose them self by sharing their real thoughts. I question and analyze how they should treat others. And sadly far too often Tim falls victim to my analysis.
I pray this year that I would live out the work of the spirit in this conviction to stop this cycle of thinking I know more than those around me. That I would not elevate myself by believing I have a greater understanding of how to treat others. That I would assume the best of others thoughts and actions. That my heart would be caring and I would be for people in a new way. If I resolve to do anything this year let it be this.
Side note I am thankful I am married to someone who in many ways thinks very differently than I do. I know I do not fully know the ways Tim cares for me. It is wonderful to let go of the idea that I know the most about how to care for any other. When I think about everything that has lead to me sitting next to him as I write I see he surpasses all my understanding.
Not to get anymore sappy but I read an article earlier and I'd like to share some take aways. Here is an abbreviated version with some small notes added by me:
"Stop being a butthole wife. No, I’m serious. End it. To start with an example-the laundry angst. I get it, the guy can’t find the hamper. It's endless and inconvenient. But what if that pile of laundry could be seen as a gift in disguise? Don’t roll your eyes, hear me out on this one. I was a butthole wife. Until my husband died. The day my husband left earth for heaven, all of my marriage problems vanished.
Marriage is designed to be beautifully harmonious and intimate. How often I screwed that up with bickering and manipulating. I wanted a perfect husband. I needed to instruct him, question him, and remind him of his shortcomings. After all, I was his “helpmate.”
The reality is, I wasn’t helping him or our marriage. By pointing out each fault, I was poisoning the relationship. Days after his funeral, I stared at our dirty clothes basket that sat atop our dryer, knowing his clothes were inside. I sighed so deeply. Before me was the last load of laundry I would ever wash for that sweet man. There would be no more dirty socks to pick up around the house ever. A week before I would have rolled my eyes at that basket. But now, it held priceless treasures. I waited weeks to wash those clothes. My heart ached for dirty socks to once more be a part of my days."
The sadness of this story is not the greatest emotion and it helped my perspective. In the moments of grief from feeling as if Tim and I will never figure this marriage thing out and that we are too different to understand each other let alone really care for each other I hope I remember to just be thankful for our life. We have a pretty wonderful one. #rejoicewiththerogers #newyear #6000
As much as I want to hold on to the confidence I have that my understanding of caring is more accurate than most people on the planet of which my husband just happens to be included in I do realize this belief shows no love or confidence of others. This idea that I feel things deeper; I value others more; I consider their feelings more than my own; That I place their needs higher than mine- These believes are my attempt to disguise my very own self absorbed motives. I want to believe I am good at caring for others at the cost of actually caring for others.
If I am being honest I often analyze, assume, and criticized others words and actions. I question people's motives. I doubt they would expose them self by sharing their real thoughts. I question and analyze how they should treat others. And sadly far too often Tim falls victim to my analysis.
I pray this year that I would live out the work of the spirit in this conviction to stop this cycle of thinking I know more than those around me. That I would not elevate myself by believing I have a greater understanding of how to treat others. That I would assume the best of others thoughts and actions. That my heart would be caring and I would be for people in a new way. If I resolve to do anything this year let it be this.
Side note I am thankful I am married to someone who in many ways thinks very differently than I do. I know I do not fully know the ways Tim cares for me. It is wonderful to let go of the idea that I know the most about how to care for any other. When I think about everything that has lead to me sitting next to him as I write I see he surpasses all my understanding.
Not to get anymore sappy but I read an article earlier and I'd like to share some take aways. Here is an abbreviated version with some small notes added by me:
"Stop being a butthole wife. No, I’m serious. End it. To start with an example-the laundry angst. I get it, the guy can’t find the hamper. It's endless and inconvenient. But what if that pile of laundry could be seen as a gift in disguise? Don’t roll your eyes, hear me out on this one. I was a butthole wife. Until my husband died. The day my husband left earth for heaven, all of my marriage problems vanished.
Marriage is designed to be beautifully harmonious and intimate. How often I screwed that up with bickering and manipulating. I wanted a perfect husband. I needed to instruct him, question him, and remind him of his shortcomings. After all, I was his “helpmate.”
The reality is, I wasn’t helping him or our marriage. By pointing out each fault, I was poisoning the relationship. Days after his funeral, I stared at our dirty clothes basket that sat atop our dryer, knowing his clothes were inside. I sighed so deeply. Before me was the last load of laundry I would ever wash for that sweet man. There would be no more dirty socks to pick up around the house ever. A week before I would have rolled my eyes at that basket. But now, it held priceless treasures. I waited weeks to wash those clothes. My heart ached for dirty socks to once more be a part of my days."
The sadness of this story is not the greatest emotion and it helped my perspective. In the moments of grief from feeling as if Tim and I will never figure this marriage thing out and that we are too different to understand each other let alone really care for each other I hope I remember to just be thankful for our life. We have a pretty wonderful one. #rejoicewiththerogers #newyear #6000
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