We Are Family?

Are we a family? 

I know that by legal definition we are a family, but are Lew (husband) and I a "family?"  Do I treat him the way I would treat my brother, sister, mother, father?

Recently my father was diagnosed with an irregular heart beat and high blood pressure.  My first response was to call him and ask if he was okay, then offer to come and stay so he could rest.

My sister recently slipped and fell in her driveway, twisting her ankle.  She used crutches for two weeks.  I went to her house every day to help her clean.
 My brother had an accident with his car.  I know he doesn't have much money, so I offered to drive him to work until he was able to get other transportation.

When my mother came down with the flu I made a week's worth of meals, drove to their house (one and a half hours away) and delivered them.


By contrast, when my husband had surgery last month I looked at him with disgust as he sat around the house.  I made him clean the closets and organize the basement.  After all, it was the least he could do since he wasn't doing anything else to help around here. Nevermind that a team of doctors said that he shouldn't lift anything for a few weeks. 

See my point?  I haven't treated my husband like family in his own house.  It's almost as if he's "less than" family and doesn't deserve to be treated as well as them. 

What about you?  Do you give your husband the same love you give your other family?  Do you protect him and provide cover for his weaknesses?  Or do you think about his infirmities with disgust and contempt?  When he is sick, sore and tired, do you let him rest? 

When we marry, we take on a new identity.  We become one flesh with another person.  If our husbands aren't accepted by us as family members, then we will always treat them as bothersome intruders, placed in our lives to disrupt our agendas. 

Let's start to treat our husbands like family.  Sometimes we're the only family they have.

He that troubleth his own house shall inherit the wind: and the fool shall be servant to the wise of heart. (Proverbs, 11:29)

Who Do You Serve?

The question is ... who do I serve? 

I often say it is a privilege to serve and respect my husband, even reverence him, as the Bible commands (Ephesians 5:33).  But who do I serve ... really?

Myself. 

Here's what I mean ...

Every time I give Lew (husband) a hard time about something because it isn't the way I want it, I'm serving myself.  Not my husband, not my Savior, myself.

Every time I give my husband something I want him to have instead of something he actually wants or needs, I'm serving myself.  Not him.

Every time I refuse him sexually of the kind of intimacy he desires but instead give him the sex I want him to have, I'm serving myself.  Not him.

It's disobedience, ladies.  Plain and simple.  God expects us to reverence our husbands and obey and respect them. 

When we refuse to consider that they need something that we don't want to give them, but instead give them something else - something that's acceptable to us, we are disobeying God's commands. 

When sex is always my way, with only 20 seconds of his way added in a couple times a year to "make him happy," it destroys any chance for the marriage to achieve oneness. No wonder men look at other women, view pornography, and have affairs.  If they can't be fulfilled in their own marriages by their own wives, they will fall to Satan's temptations.

Here's what I, personally, will do:

I will pay attention to my husband's needs.  Deep down I know many of the things he wants and needs, but I don't allow him to have them because they are inconvenient, make me uncomfortable, or otherwise don't meet my criteria.  I need to stop that.  I need to recognize that when I obey and serve (and yes, reverence) my husband, I am obeying the Lord.  Likewise, when I disobey my husband I also disobey the Lord.  When I run his desires through my agenda and say, "um .... no.  I don't think so,"  I am saying "no" to God.  It's the same thing.  When I disrespect my hubby, I disrespect my Savior.  When my kids see me disrespecting him, they learn to do likewise.

You might say, "But what if my husband won't tell me what he wants?"

That question is a cop-out.  There are many things we know beyond all doubt that our husband desire from us, but they no longer will express it out of frustration or exhaustion from the quest.  You know I'm right.  Our job is to repent of our personal agendas and serve and reverence our husbands the way they need us. 

Our husbands will be happy and fulfilled and our God will bless our marriages.

Rest A While

My husband Lew is a hard worker.  When he works.  I don't mean that to sound demeaning whatsoever.  He works extremely hard 9 months of the year.  The other 3 months (which happen to be winter), he is off. 

It used to bother me that he didn't have the same desire as I do for undertaking home improvement jobs or reorganization projects (like, um, alphabetizing everything we own - don't get me started).  Then an amazing thing happened.

Lew got sick and had to take four days off work.  But he still had to do his paperwork so it wouldn't pile up on his desk.  Every morning a courier would bring a box filled with manilla file folders, and every evening a different courier would take them away.  Lew spend at least six hours each day working.  While he was sick. 

While I realize that being home allowed him to take his time and not rush through the work .... six hours of paper work is very intense.  And that doesn't include floor time, testing, and training his crew.  His brain must be fried by the end of the day let alone by the end of December.

Now that I have a more realistic view of what the man deals with during his 9 month work schedule, I have laid off the pressure for him to produce during his downtime.  Sure, there are still things that have to get done, and he is happy to do them.  In his own way, in his own time.

The Penguin

My husband Lew had a penguin.  It wasn't a real penguin, it was a little, plastic toy that he kept on the mantle of his house.  I never really asked him about it because I just figured it was a little whimsical thing he chose as a decoration, to add a bit of fun to an otherwise blah (in my humble opinion) atmosphere.

Fast forward 3 years.

After our honeymoon we moved from our separate places into "our house."  We unpacked box after box and put our things away.  when I unpacked the box that contained the penguin, I hid the little bugger in the back of a kitchen drawer, then trashed it when he wasn't looking.

Lew was out of sorts because he couldn't find the penguin.  Actually, distraught was more accurate.  I couldn't understand what the problem was.

"That stupid little penguin?  I thought it was just a plastic toy.  I got rid of it.  Why?"

He actually cried.

You see, the penguin was a McDonald's Happy Meal toy that was given to him by his sister.  Her son (Lew's nephew) asked her, as he lay dying in a children's cancer unit, to give Lew the penguin.  He kept it on his mantle ever since.

I had no idea.  I felt like wretching. There was no way to replace that penguin.  I searched and purchased one on ebay, but it wasn't the same one.  Of course, Lew forgave me, and the replacement penguin is on display in our dining room, but every time I look at it I am reminded of my cold, unfeeling heart toward the man I love.

Why didn't I ask him about the penguin?  I don't know.

I urge all you wives out there to not belittle or discount the silly little things your husband has sitting around.  I implore you to find out why he hangs onto that matchbox car, or that little piece of colored ribbon, or that cheap plastic lawn ornament.  That stupid, ugly, broken thing might have deep significance to your husband.