Because of the situation in which I was raised, money has never been much of an issue for me. I grew up in a poor household, most of my things having been bought at yard sales or thrift stores. Even when I was a very young girl, it did not bother me that I did not have the "things" that other children did. When the kids at school would tease me mercilessly, I didn't feel sorry for myself. Instead, I felt a heart-rending pain for my parents, my mother in particular since she would never buy things for herself because we children always needed a little something more. If I ever wanted nicer things, it was for my parents. I was content with finding small treasures in boxes marked as "junk" by other people.

When I met the young man who would later become my husband, I didn't fuss over the fact that he made little money at his job. The biggest worries that I had over inviting a man into my life was whether or not I could have his love, and keep it. In the beginning, there were a million ways that my beloved showed me that he cared. As a younger man, DH often went to great lengths to dote on me and to show affection for me. For example, one time when we had slightly heated disagreement when I left his home at night. The next morning, I found that he had taken his bike out in the bitter cold and rain, and rode over to my house to leave a letter of apology on the seat of my car, in the small hours of morning. He had turned himself into an ice cube, but could not stand the idea that he had been unfairly critical of me and hurt my feelings. Many, many times that lovely young man did marvelous things to show how much he cared for me.

After we married, the real learning process began. DH started working at a different line of work so he could put a roof over our heads, and food on our table. So many things in our lives changed, and in a dramatic fashion, that we had a real growing-up experience with lightning speed. Suddenly, not only did my husband not dote after me as he used to, he hardly had any energy for me. Our emotional turmoil took it's toll in our bedroom, so there was no solace to be found there. When I would work all day in our home, DH would come home and leave a large mess in his wake, before falling asleep on the couch. I began to feel unappreciated and resentful toward him.

"Discontentment is not a product of circumstances; it is the state of the soul." --Debi Pearl

My husband worked hard every day, dragging himself off to his job with injuries and sickness, so that he could provide for me. Still I was not happy, and it was shameful. I did not appreciate the hard work that he did, and I had even more work for him when he came home. Instead of nurturing my husband, serving my beloved, I was demanding that he take the garbage out, pick up his laundry, etc. It is no wonder that he fell asleep as soon as possible!! I made him miserable! My life was not hard, and my husband did not expect much of me. If I didn't wash his clothes, he would scrub them himself and hang them up to dry for the morning. If I didn't make dinner, my husband would search through the freezer until he found something suitable, and he would make dinner himself. For all of my stupidity, my husband never took me to task or demanded that I do anything for him. He quietly accepted the message that I have him, that I was discontent with him, and that I would not live out my love for him and be his help meet. It's a wonder that he didn't divorce me.

"You can practice joy and thanksgiving,. Every day, every right response makes the fingers of your soul find the notes of joy and thanksgiving easier and easier." --Debi Pearl

I can't say exactly when it was that the Holy Spirit convicted me on my lack of love for my husband. I could say that I loved him until I was blue in the face, but I wasn't living it. Anyone with whom I talked with for five minutes knew that I was dicontent, it had so permeated my entire being. My soul was sick with discontentment, until one day the Lord figuratively knocked me upside my head. lol

There was a point when I was on my knees, discontent with my marriage to the point that I was going to leave. I had given my husband an ultimatum (rich, isn't it?), and already had my bags packed. Come the day that I was due to move on, my heart just wasn't it in. I took some honest inventory of my gripes, and realized that *I* was the problem. From that day forward, I have been in deep prayer, asking that the Lord strengthen me in this fight to overcome my obsession with discontentment. Instead of complaining when my husband gets home late from work, I thank God that it was just work that kept him, and that he hadn't been in an accident on the way home. When I become frustrated with the mess that he will probably make every day of his life, I thank God that I have that man to make extra laundry and to leave dirt marks in my bathroom sink. If these are the things that I must accept along with the love of a man who is loyal and hardworking, all for my benefit, then I will spend the rest of my life practicing being content and happy with the whole package. Maybe one day, a solid habit will have formed, and maybe I won't have to try so hard to smile and change the condition of my heart when things don't go just the way that I want them. Practice makes perfect, and I want to say that I worked real hard to get closer to that point.

Chapter 4: Thanksgiving Produces Joy

"Because I have known such love and closeness with a man, it makes my understanding of and appreciation for God much deeper." --Debi Pearl

When I was a young girl, I didn't think much on the dynamics of the marriage relationship. Until a few years ago, I believed that the main point of having a husband was to have someone around so you didn't have to grow old on your own. Ok, so that isn't such a bad idea, but it definitely isn't the most complete understanding of marriage. *laughs* Let me tell you that there have been times when I have been a very bad girl. Still, my husband has been so patient with me, and has loved me through my most disgusting times. I have learned even more in the way that I approach HIM. I have been deeply challenged in how well I can ever hope to love God and submit myself to His will, if I cannot even manage small things for my husband. If my love is so lacking that I am not happy at the idea of making dinner for my husband when he comes home exhausted and ravenous, how can I think to live out my love for the Lord when He asks things of me that are greater than I think I am capable of? So, I have tried very hard to open my hands, let go of the reins, and take to heart the lessons that I can learn by loving and serving my husband as I would (do) serve my Lord.

I would say that there is a marked difference in my life, since I have chosen to be thankful, instead of bitter and discontent. One obvious change is that......my husband likes me. *chuckles* He wants to play with me now, wants to do things for me and give me things, simply because he enjoys me. DH wants to play with me, chasing me around with oily fingers after having worked on the car, all because he thinks I look sexy when I'm dirty. *laughs* I've learned how to "let my hair down" and play with him, like we used to do while we were still such a novelty. Now, he walks through the door after work, and there is a smile on his face as he cleans up for dinner. Maybe he is just happy that there is actually food on the table, but I suspect that it might have more to do with the kiss that is waiting for him when he walks in.

There has never been a time when I have been bitter and angry, and I have still managed to be joyful. These two things have always been at odds. So, for as long as I wanted to hold on to percieved hurts or how "unfair" life could be, I was a real sour puss. There was no joy in my heart, simply because I held on to the darkeness and refused to flip on the light switch to chase it away. I wanted to be angry, and I wanted to punish my husband for not being everything that I thought he should be. It took me a long time to realize that all of my fussing never got me what I really wanted. It made my husband miserable, and made him even less apt to do things for the sake of pleasing me. I was shooting myself in the foot. However, when I began practicing being thankful, that joy just snuck up on me and has made me such a spoiled woman. lol Does this mean that my husband is perfect? Is he somehow so great a saint that I have no reason to ever feel upset or get prickly? No, that isn't it at all. My guy is just as imperfect as the next man. He has his struggles and weaknesses. The difference is that I've learned to love him, regardless of his sin, just like the Lord loves me. It's hard sometimes, and it takes a lot of prayer. However, I don't know that I have ever been so richly blessed in my life as I have through this relationship thusfar. It makes me appreciate more the position of "Bride of Christ", and has me every grateful and expectant for what comes after my time here has ended.