It is Happy Dance Time at Your Husband's Deepest Desire!
"The Good Book Store" at Hope Chapel in Hermosa Beach (California) has stocked every card offered by "Your Husband's Deepest Desire" for sale to their customers.
I'm a shopper - a shopaholic actually! I never thought I could switch to buying anything "sight unseen". I'm a toucher, a taster, a tester. I examine my purchases carefully. I know how hard it is to give up those tendencies to purchase something online. So let me say that I am extremely grateful to the proprietor and the pastor at Hope Chapel for providing the physical cards for shoppers to touch before they buy. I know that the husbands and wives in that congregation will be blessed.
I know that the messages in the respect cards are pleasing to God. How do I know this? Because I, of myself, have not written these cards. I know that God is the author of the messages. I know this because of how they come to me and how they are received by the readers.
It is at once exhilarating and disheartening to witness the look of longing in the faces of husbands as they review these cards for me. Every man that has taken a stack of samples has gone through their set slowly - pondering, considering, and appreciating the messages.
Without exception, every husband has wistfully hoped that their wife would give them one. It doesn't matter that these men have already read every card - they want to receive a card with their name on the envelope written in the hand of their own wife. That mattered to them.
But, honestly, I have a difficult time walking up, uninvited, and saying to a woman, "Your Husband Asked Me to tell you that he wants you to give him one of these cards."
Most wives are reluctant, even afraid, to actually give a card to their husband. (I shared one such story in my post called "No Fear") If you have read or studied the teachings of Emerson Eggerichs (Love and Respect) this does not come as a complete surprise.
Some wives are afraid that the cards "won't work". Others are afraid that they will! Regardless of the many reasons, wives are failing to act because they fear. There is only way to settle fear and that is to trust in God.
To the wives of Hope Chapel, I challenge you to stop by The Good Book Store and pick out one card.
To all the other wives, stop by the online store and choose one card.
Buy it.
Cast aside your fears and expectations.
Trust God.
Give it to your husband.
Thursday, July 08, 2010
Tuesday, July 06, 2010
Word to the Wives and Welcome Wednesday
Word to the Wives ~ ~ Your husband's ability to put on the full armor of God and to stand, protecting you both, against the assault of the devil is nothing to be taken for granted. Your gentle word of encouragementwill strengthen his feeble knees.
(click on the card to read the message inside)
It was not until I watched the movie "Fireproof" and saw the suits that firemen wore to face and fight the flames that I began to liken that scripture to my marriage. If you, like me, have never been able to picture a suit of armor in modern day context or to picture a mortal man prepared "to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one" take a good look at the front of this card.
Welcome Wednesday ~ ~ I'm also pleased to be taking part, for the 2nd week, in the blog hop sponsored by "Take It From Me". I comment and follow all participants - even if it takes me a few days.
Sacrifice
When my friend told me that her husband was passing up a fishing trip with his buddies to take her to the movies, I was stunned. Never, in all the years I’d known them, had he forfeited his precious activities to do anything with her.
Their relationship reminded me of the chicken and the egg conundrum. Which came first; her lack of appreciation for him or his failure to nurture her? For as long as I had known them she had grumbled about their marriage. From all that I had witnessed he was, pretty much, absent. Seldom had I seen them together. When they came to social gatherings the tension between them was palpable. They behaved much as strangers, disconnected and aloof.
She had talked to me a few times about the distance between them and I had suggested that she look for ways to appreciate him. I can only imagine how difficult that request really was for her. She grimaced when I challenged her but I pressed and she agreed. I’d thought at the time that she was merely conceding so I would shut up.
Apparently she had been listening. She shared with me that she had made an effort to find one thing about him, each day, to compliment before she permitted herself to say anything else. She recounted, in particular, a day when she discovered the mess he had left in the bathroom after showering. The toothpaste was left on the vanity, open and drying out. His wet towel was on the floor and the medicine cabinet was left open. She told me how she had vented a little anger in her efforts as she righted the room. Under her breath she had cursed his laziness and complained silently about his self-centeredness.
When the bathroom was clean and she had searched out her husband, he was in the garage tinkering in his toolbox. She was poised; ready to berate him for the mess he had left inside. But she remembered her commitment to complement. She came up close beside him and over-dramatically smelled the air about him.
“Oh my, don’t you smell wonderful,” she said. “Can I get a hug before you work yourself into a sweat again?’
I can only guess how hard it was for her to set aside her upset about his mess, but she did it. It was worth it. He took her in his arms and held her tight. Suddenly he remembered and began to clumsily explain himself.
“Oh! I forgot to clean up the bathroom when I was done,” he exclaimed. “The hinge was coming loose on the medicine cabinet. I came out here to get a screwdriver to fix it and then got distracted. I’ll go pick up my mess now.”
She wrapped her arms more tightly around him and assured him that the mess was cleaned up.
As she told me the story I could see the excitement in her eyes. It was a spark of affection and appreciation. She reminded me of a young bride. It was obvious that she had fallen in love with her husband again.
What had been a marriage on the brink of disaster was becoming one of unity. Which came first? There would come a time when they would look back and be unable to remember. Had she made the first move or had he? Was it her offering of grace for his foibles or his sacrifice of self for her sake?
Their relationship reminded me of the chicken and the egg conundrum. Which came first; her lack of appreciation for him or his failure to nurture her? For as long as I had known them she had grumbled about their marriage. From all that I had witnessed he was, pretty much, absent. Seldom had I seen them together. When they came to social gatherings the tension between them was palpable. They behaved much as strangers, disconnected and aloof.
She had talked to me a few times about the distance between them and I had suggested that she look for ways to appreciate him. I can only imagine how difficult that request really was for her. She grimaced when I challenged her but I pressed and she agreed. I’d thought at the time that she was merely conceding so I would shut up.
Apparently she had been listening. She shared with me that she had made an effort to find one thing about him, each day, to compliment before she permitted herself to say anything else. She recounted, in particular, a day when she discovered the mess he had left in the bathroom after showering. The toothpaste was left on the vanity, open and drying out. His wet towel was on the floor and the medicine cabinet was left open. She told me how she had vented a little anger in her efforts as she righted the room. Under her breath she had cursed his laziness and complained silently about his self-centeredness.
When the bathroom was clean and she had searched out her husband, he was in the garage tinkering in his toolbox. She was poised; ready to berate him for the mess he had left inside. But she remembered her commitment to complement. She came up close beside him and over-dramatically smelled the air about him.
“Oh my, don’t you smell wonderful,” she said. “Can I get a hug before you work yourself into a sweat again?’
I can only guess how hard it was for her to set aside her upset about his mess, but she did it. It was worth it. He took her in his arms and held her tight. Suddenly he remembered and began to clumsily explain himself.
“Oh! I forgot to clean up the bathroom when I was done,” he exclaimed. “The hinge was coming loose on the medicine cabinet. I came out here to get a screwdriver to fix it and then got distracted. I’ll go pick up my mess now.”
She wrapped her arms more tightly around him and assured him that the mess was cleaned up.
As she told me the story I could see the excitement in her eyes. It was a spark of affection and appreciation. She reminded me of a young bride. It was obvious that she had fallen in love with her husband again.
What had been a marriage on the brink of disaster was becoming one of unity. Which came first? There would come a time when they would look back and be unable to remember. Had she made the first move or had he? Was it her offering of grace for his foibles or his sacrifice of self for her sake?
Soon after that incident, I came upon a painting of an abandoned boat. The boat was pulled inland, away from the water to decay in the wind and the sun. The drifting sand had moored it above the water to overlook the sea. As I studied the composition, I wondered what had happened that the weather stripped and wind worn boat had ceased to serve its purpose.
I could see no visible signs of damage, no holes to render it unseaworthy. Nothing should have kept that boat ashore, except for the sacrifice of its captain.
Word to the Wives ~ ~ Do not fail to recognize the times that your husband has sacrificed his pleasures or his choice for your sake. Such sacrifices or submissions are demonstration of his love for you.
(Inside Sentiment)
I honor the many sacrifices
you have made,
my husband,
for the sake of my happiness.
"Sacrifice"
Greeting Cards
As low as $2.50 on a Note Card
Thursday, July 01, 2010
Follow Friday - 40 and Over
Follow Friday 40 and Over!!
Please join in the fun and get to know your fellow bloggers!!
So You Didn't Marry Prince Charming
Word to the Wives ~ ~ If the reality of marriage does not match your fantasy, realize that you have the power to change it. Inviting your husband to share shoulder-to-shoulder time with you will do wonders.
I heard that one wife wept when she read the inside of the Prince Charming card at my Zazzle Store. I didn't have to ask if she was weeping for joy or weeping for grief. Actually, I did not want to ask. I do hope that if it was the latter, that she bought the card for her husband.
I don't know about your husband but mine never will change because I nag him. He won't improve if I complain or whine or tell my friends of our last argument.
When I behave like that it contaminates the shared air between us. (That is not a scientific fact. It is simply a theory I'm striving to prove.)
Night before last my husband irritated the heck out of me. I had thought about it all day. I could either let go of my irritation or I could hold onto it. If I held onto it, the air in our home would be thick with stress. It would probably be intolerable. I was the keeper of the barometric pressure in our home.
It is a powerful position to be in. With a me-me-me attitude, I could drag this little argument into a full-fledged hurricane if I wanted to. I've been known to do that. No, really. But this time, I chose to take control of the "weather" in our home.
I had married this man "for better or for worse", so he wasn't going anywhere. He would come home and probably be exactly the same man I'd married. He surely wasn't perfect then and he surely wasn't perfect now. According to everything that I know, he will never be perfect in my lifetime.
But, I truly was not in the mood for another stormy evening. It was up to me to chase the clouds of irritation from our home. Remember, it was me irritated with him - not the other way around. Knowing him, he would fall all over himself trying to make me happy which would only serve to irritate me more.
So, after spending an afternoon fixing a meal that would not overtax me, that would please my tastes and be satisfactory to him, we ate in relative silence. I disappeared to the computer room and called him to come sit near me. I read my blog post from Monday to him. I then spent a little portion of the evening telling that same husband what an honor it is to be his wife. It was the truth. I wasn't making a bit of it up.
I had spent some of the afternoon, as I prepared our meal and he was at work, remembering the fairy tale romance that was ours. The silly little things that we did for one another to give each other joy. After dinner I then sat at his feet as I had every evening in the early weeks of our dating and called many of those things to his remembrance.
It was a conscious choice on my part to replace the thoughts of irritation with the thoughts that delight me about my husband.
Fairy tales can come true. It can happen to you - if you take your thoughts captive and establish the course of your thinking.
By the way; if you haven't clicked on the Prince Charming card and read the sentiment inside, I think you might want to do that. I expect that some of us will cry. And some of us will find a way to tell our husband that he is still our Prince Charming.
4th of July Weekend Sale - 17.76% OFF ALL ORDERS!!
Use Code: ZAZZLEUSAUSA Ends Monday
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
Superior to My Husband
I was raised in a highly competitive family. I learned to wager pennies in poker when I was quite young and later to shoot hoops with Dad to retain my allowance. And I was good at it. I was watching and rooting for competitive sports for as long as I can remember. To say that I am competitive is an understatement.
I see most challenges as a competition and doing so was praiseworthy. To conquer, to achieve, to come in first, to come out on top and to dominate the competition was paramount. By such victories was love compensated and by such defeats was disgust dished out. As an adult it became a quest for a better paycheck, a better office, or higher standing among my peers.
So when I was asked recently if I ever feel superior to my husband, I had to take a deep breath and consider my answer carefully.
See, my husband is physically disabled. He struggles to walk and to talk. He had about 100 words in his vocabulary when we first met and every word that he has learned since then has been a might mighty struggle. Many times he misuses, mispronounces or misses words completely. He has the use of one hand only and that not being his first dominant hand. He lost use of his dominant hand, his right hand, due to a massive stroke. He cannot write without excruciating effort.
What would you say to me if you found me standing over, berating or otherwise dominating my husband? How would you feel to stand in the same room as I chide him for being less than a man - intellectually, physically, emotionally? What if I simply teased him about his inadequacies or laughed at him because he couldn't do a simple thing - like mow the lawn or walk through a door? If I told him he walks funny or talks funny? What if you found me sitting with my girlfriends and telling them of how he doesn't put his underwear in the hamper or he leaves his socks on the floor when he takes them off? Would you wince if you heard me say that my husband acts just like one of my children?
How would you feel if you watched me behave as if I were superior to my husband?
When I became aware of every man's desire for respect, I did not have far to look for all the proof I needed. My husband is a man, no different than any other in the desires of his heart. He wants to be respected for all the noble pursuits of every man.
Have I? Would I? Could I? Do I? Do I ever feel superior to my husband?
I am learning not to. I am getting better at it every day. For him and for God, I want to be a submissive wife.
I see most challenges as a competition and doing so was praiseworthy. To conquer, to achieve, to come in first, to come out on top and to dominate the competition was paramount. By such victories was love compensated and by such defeats was disgust dished out. As an adult it became a quest for a better paycheck, a better office, or higher standing among my peers.
So when I was asked recently if I ever feel superior to my husband, I had to take a deep breath and consider my answer carefully.
See, my husband is physically disabled. He struggles to walk and to talk. He had about 100 words in his vocabulary when we first met and every word that he has learned since then has been a might mighty struggle. Many times he misuses, mispronounces or misses words completely. He has the use of one hand only and that not being his first dominant hand. He lost use of his dominant hand, his right hand, due to a massive stroke. He cannot write without excruciating effort.
What would you say to me if you found me standing over, berating or otherwise dominating my husband? How would you feel to stand in the same room as I chide him for being less than a man - intellectually, physically, emotionally? What if I simply teased him about his inadequacies or laughed at him because he couldn't do a simple thing - like mow the lawn or walk through a door? If I told him he walks funny or talks funny? What if you found me sitting with my girlfriends and telling them of how he doesn't put his underwear in the hamper or he leaves his socks on the floor when he takes them off? Would you wince if you heard me say that my husband acts just like one of my children?
How would you feel if you watched me behave as if I were superior to my husband?
When I became aware of every man's desire for respect, I did not have far to look for all the proof I needed. My husband is a man, no different than any other in the desires of his heart. He wants to be respected for all the noble pursuits of every man.
Have I? Would I? Could I? Do I? Do I ever feel superior to my husband?
I am learning not to. I am getting better at it every day. For him and for God, I want to be a submissive wife.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
My Husband's Pride
My husband, Bruce, was getting ready to leave for work one morning (early this week) and I was just waking up.
I had just come back from the bathroom and climbed under the covers again when he came to the doorway and said "Oh good. You're awake. We can pray before I leave today." We haven't been very regular in our commitment to pray together morning and night. When it's been important to me - it has not been for him and vice versa. Apparently, it was his turn to try again
We married just five years ago and I have told him many times that I married him because (1) he prays (2) he listens for and expects an answer (3) he does what is expected of him. "He prays" is the number one quality on my list. I never resist telling him about that one.
I do not do very well with telling him the other things because he has a tendency to get a bit prideful and as a recovering alcoholic that is a dangerous thing! But, I did tell him (that same morning kneeling at the foot of our bed) that I am still as impressed as I ever was with his courage in the face of adversity, his determination to achieve, his unfailing honesty and his commitment to work.
Later that day, when he called from work on his break, he shared that he did not have a worry in the world - which he usually does. He felt confident and secure in his job for the first time that I can recall.
I'm suspecting that I should not fear telling him that I admire him because, apparently, it does strengthen his resolve and does not "give him a big head".
I think I'll share this card with him and not be so worried about his pride "getting out of control". After all, that is an issue to be resolved between him and his Father in Heaven. My assignment is to be his helpmeet; to respect, to encourage, to commend.
I had just come back from the bathroom and climbed under the covers again when he came to the doorway and said "Oh good. You're awake. We can pray before I leave today." We haven't been very regular in our commitment to pray together morning and night. When it's been important to me - it has not been for him and vice versa. Apparently, it was his turn to try again
We married just five years ago and I have told him many times that I married him because (1) he prays (2) he listens for and expects an answer (3) he does what is expected of him. "He prays" is the number one quality on my list. I never resist telling him about that one.
I do not do very well with telling him the other things because he has a tendency to get a bit prideful and as a recovering alcoholic that is a dangerous thing! But, I did tell him (that same morning kneeling at the foot of our bed) that I am still as impressed as I ever was with his courage in the face of adversity, his determination to achieve, his unfailing honesty and his commitment to work.
Later that day, when he called from work on his break, he shared that he did not have a worry in the world - which he usually does. He felt confident and secure in his job for the first time that I can recall.
I'm suspecting that I should not fear telling him that I admire him because, apparently, it does strengthen his resolve and does not "give him a big head".
I think I'll share this card with him and not be so worried about his pride "getting out of control". After all, that is an issue to be resolved between him and his Father in Heaven. My assignment is to be his helpmeet; to respect, to encourage, to commend.
Finish The Race
Word to the Wives ~ ~ An instinct burns in every man to achieve something before leaving this world. The regard and respect of others seems to motivate that desire to achieve, while disrespect and disregard can smother it. Recognize, respect and commend your husband for his achievements no matter how big or how small.
The cover of this card is a painting by my uncle.
Robert Gilbert
Acrylic
21 x 14
$550.00 Available
Friday, June 25, 2010
Things Are Tight
I got out and about a bit today. This is the first time that I've returned to . . . my office . . . where I worked before I got laid off. It was like a morgue in that building. The street was quiet, the hallways empty, and only one co-worker at his desk. The bustling and the buzzing had gone silently still and the air was thick with emptiness.
When I walked away and waited for the light rail afterwards I looked around at the usually bustling platform. Where once there were state workers waiting to hustle home the seats were taken by people returning from the Department of Health Services; their hands clutching the manilla envelopes concealing forms that would either lead to assistance or send them into the streets to live among the hundreds of faceless bodies already overflowing homeless camps.
Things are tight, the economy is unstable and our futures are uncertain. It is enough to cause intolerable stress; the kind that will break a marriage to pieces. As a wife, I find myself reaching for my husband's hand more often or laying my head against his chest to hear the sure sound of his heart beat. He is a stabling influence for me.
I should let him know that
When I walked away and waited for the light rail afterwards I looked around at the usually bustling platform. Where once there were state workers waiting to hustle home the seats were taken by people returning from the Department of Health Services; their hands clutching the manilla envelopes concealing forms that would either lead to assistance or send them into the streets to live among the hundreds of faceless bodies already overflowing homeless camps.
Things are tight, the economy is unstable and our futures are uncertain. It is enough to cause intolerable stress; the kind that will break a marriage to pieces. As a wife, I find myself reaching for my husband's hand more often or laying my head against his chest to hear the sure sound of his heart beat. He is a stabling influence for me.
I should let him know that
"I know that things are tight right now.
It gives me peace to know, my husband,
that you will get us through this."
Word to the Wives ~ ~ God gave your husband the desire to protect and provide. Encourage him as he continues to press forward.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
When Doing Nothing is Worth Everything
One of the most difficult things I have had to accept in marriage is my husband's need for me . . . to be nearby, next to him, shoulder-to-shoulder. But - surprise, surprise! What IS first and foremost in his mind is NOT physical touch or intimacy.
His desires my presence. That's it. It IS really that simple.
I have been giving a lot of thought to my husband's need for shoulder-to-shoulder time. He is happiest when I am with him. Go figure. Me? Yes, me. He wants me. Apparently, the opportunity to spend time with me is the reason he married me. He thought that my entering into this marriage covenant was my commitment to spend time with him. Hmmm.
Same for you? Really? How about that! Who knew?
Then why do we always give so much attention to other, less than top priority, action items in our marriage?
Me? I focus on cleaning the house, earning a paycheck, fixing a good meal, finding the right clothes, being neatly groomed, wearing his favorite perfume, playing the right "mood music". Anything, everything, and whatever I can think of that should make him happy.
We all do it. Every wife I've ever met has a list of things that she is convinced will make her husband happy if she does them. Some women get really good at fulfilling the list and wonder when their husband will ever be happy with their efforts.
Others get so discouraged by their own presumed failure they just stop trying or only give a half-hearted effort or no effort at all. Sometimes we simply get fed up trying to do all the things we think are needed without achieving the desired results - that we give up. We simply give up and find ourselves sitting across the desk from a divorce lawyer.
I am not saying that all those things are not worth our time, energy or effort. I am simply saying that we may have our priorities skewed. Are the things that we think are important to our husband truly important to him? In the same order? Or are we missing the mark?
I challenge you to try a little experiment. A simple experiment. When you and your husband are both at home, stop whatever it is you have been doing for one hour. Search out your husband and just sit with him. If he's watching TV, sit silently through his show. If he's working on the car, pull up a chair and watch him, silently. If he's working in the yard, working out, reading the paper, staring out the window - whatever.
Sit with him and let him open a conversation, if any. He can actually sit there and do nothing. Doing Nothing is okay with him. Make doing nothing okay with you for just a little while.
I'll wager a guess that you will not get this right the first time. We women have such a hard time "doing nothing". Keep trying. It is so worth it. Just make sure that when you are "doing nothing", you're doing it with him. Then it becomes something and that something is worth all the effort it takes to do nothing at all.
Most of the cards that I offer at Your Husband's Deepest Desire in the "Friendship" category are all about spending time with your husband - just the two of you. They are most importantly about spending time with your husband doing the things that he loves best, in the way he loves best, at the time he loves best. The "Friendship" category of cards are all about forfeiting yourself to fulfill his desire for time with you.
No one ever said that you can't actually enjoy what he is doing! That is why I created the Stadium Seats card. A stadium may not be your favorite place to hang out for a few hours but, if it is his, you might offer to spend that time with him: shoulder to shoulder in stadium seats. This may be a time when "doing nothing" is worth everything is his eyes.
Not up for doing nothing in stadium seats? Browse the other cards in the "Friendship Category". You may find something that signifies doing nothing that just may mean everything to him.
His desires my presence. That's it. It IS really that simple.
I have been giving a lot of thought to my husband's need for shoulder-to-shoulder time. He is happiest when I am with him. Go figure. Me? Yes, me. He wants me. Apparently, the opportunity to spend time with me is the reason he married me. He thought that my entering into this marriage covenant was my commitment to spend time with him. Hmmm.
Same for you? Really? How about that! Who knew?
Then why do we always give so much attention to other, less than top priority, action items in our marriage?
Me? I focus on cleaning the house, earning a paycheck, fixing a good meal, finding the right clothes, being neatly groomed, wearing his favorite perfume, playing the right "mood music". Anything, everything, and whatever I can think of that should make him happy.
We all do it. Every wife I've ever met has a list of things that she is convinced will make her husband happy if she does them. Some women get really good at fulfilling the list and wonder when their husband will ever be happy with their efforts.
Others get so discouraged by their own presumed failure they just stop trying or only give a half-hearted effort or no effort at all. Sometimes we simply get fed up trying to do all the things we think are needed without achieving the desired results - that we give up. We simply give up and find ourselves sitting across the desk from a divorce lawyer.
I am not saying that all those things are not worth our time, energy or effort. I am simply saying that we may have our priorities skewed. Are the things that we think are important to our husband truly important to him? In the same order? Or are we missing the mark?
I challenge you to try a little experiment. A simple experiment. When you and your husband are both at home, stop whatever it is you have been doing for one hour. Search out your husband and just sit with him. If he's watching TV, sit silently through his show. If he's working on the car, pull up a chair and watch him, silently. If he's working in the yard, working out, reading the paper, staring out the window - whatever.
Sit with him and let him open a conversation, if any. He can actually sit there and do nothing. Doing Nothing is okay with him. Make doing nothing okay with you for just a little while.
I'll wager a guess that you will not get this right the first time. We women have such a hard time "doing nothing". Keep trying. It is so worth it. Just make sure that when you are "doing nothing", you're doing it with him. Then it becomes something and that something is worth all the effort it takes to do nothing at all.
Most of the cards that I offer at Your Husband's Deepest Desire in the "Friendship" category are all about spending time with your husband - just the two of you. They are most importantly about spending time with your husband doing the things that he loves best, in the way he loves best, at the time he loves best. The "Friendship" category of cards are all about forfeiting yourself to fulfill his desire for time with you.
No one ever said that you can't actually enjoy what he is doing! That is why I created the Stadium Seats card. A stadium may not be your favorite place to hang out for a few hours but, if it is his, you might offer to spend that time with him: shoulder to shoulder in stadium seats. This may be a time when "doing nothing" is worth everything is his eyes.
Not up for doing nothing in stadium seats? Browse the other cards in the "Friendship Category". You may find something that signifies doing nothing that just may mean everything to him.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
No Fear!
The story you are about to read is true, but the names were changed to protect the innocent.
My friend, Jane, has been married to John for over twenty years and the children that they raised have left home. Their marriage was stagnant. They didn't argue but the sparks were gone and they were distant, one with the other.
For six months before my story begins John and Jane had not lived in the same house. When they did reunite the distance between them did not disappear. They returned to the same old patterns. He went his way and she went hers. Their conversations, few and far between, were exchanges of information and requests for accommodation.
"Would you pick up a pack of cigarettes for me when you're out?"
"Are you ever going to mow the lawn?"
"Your daughter called. She's doing well in school."
"Your son called. He can't find a job."
"I left you something for dinner in the frig."
John had practically moved into the computer room where he spent hours on social networks, watching television and smoking the cigarettes Jane would not permit in the rest of the house.
Jane drifted through her days, each one a mirror image of the days before. She would go to work for eight hours, stop on the way home to pick up something ready-to-eat and settle in front of her television for the evening. Some nights she would get out and visit homebound friends. Some Sundays she would attend church, alone.
As I began to design the Respect Cards at Your Husband's Deepest Desire, I would show them off to my friends. Jane was usually distracted but cordial. Soon, though, she began to become interested.
When I had designed a few cards for the "Shoulder-to-shoulder" friendship category, I saw a brighter spark of interest. I challenged her to choose at least one card from that category and give it to her husband. She chose eight and took them home!
Weeks went by and she did not leave a card for him. She was scared. I finally sat down and asked her why.
I discovered that the fear of the unknown was holding her back. She kept playing the "what if" game with herself. From "What if he rejects the message?" to "What if he expects more of me?" Bouncing about between the unknowns had completely immobilized her.
I finally lost patience and (as a loving friend) basically demanded that she stop living outside the moment. She was afraid of the future "maybe". I challenged her to be in the now and reject the fear. My husband has a saying that I love and I quoted it for her.
"Be in the Now. Be in the now right now and stay focussed. And you know what you get? NO FEAR!"
I wish you could see the hand gestures he uses when he says it. I repeated his words and shared those animations with Jane and she took the challenge!
We plotted and planned what she would do with the card. Finally, in spite of her fears, Jane left the card where John would find it. The card was one that Jane considered to be "safe" - with a message that carried no promises but was honest about her feelings.
Jane spent the day battling the fear of "what if" that kept creeping into her thoughts. That evening when Jane got home she sat down, alone, to watch her favorite television show. It was a "girlie" show; one that she knew John did not like.
And then, unexpectedly, John came into the room and sat beside her on the couch, shoulder to shoulder. He laid his head upon her shoulder and silently watched the show with her. He dozed off and on but woke to watch the part that he knew was exciting for her. He shared her excitement with her. A second show started and they settled in, shoulder to shoulder, to watch. They both dozed off.
When she woke, she disturbed him as she got up to go to bed. He asked if she wanted him to come with her. She said yes.
Jane told me how amazed she was by his actions - his reactions to her message. She could hardly contain her delight and her happiness.
One card, one message, one event and Jane was learning the truth of what Emerson Eggerichs taught in his book Love and Respect.
"Men are different. They share their experiences by sharing an activity. This is what your husband wants to do with you."
The weeks of fear, anxiety and what-ifs were forgotten. She had seven cards to go!
I keep remembering the outcome of Jane's dilemma. She finally conquered her fears, accepted my over-the-top challenge and her husband's response was nothing short of miraculous. What was especially uplifting was the antsy anticipation and sheer delight she eventually took in the journey.
I pray that every wife (and husband) could enjoy such a journey in her marriage.
Monday, June 07, 2010
Your Husband Asked Me
Dear Friend -
I was talking to your husband this weekend. He asked how I was doing since I got laid off from my job.
I told him that I had started a greeting card business and I was making some progress getting the word out. He was disinterested but pretending to care. I could only guess that he was picturing me sitting with disheveled hair and still in my pajamas late into the day at the dining room table piled high and cluttered with stamping supplies, doo-dads and lace making hand-made cards.
Then I said, "I create cards for wives to give their husbands."
Your husband successfully kept the smirk off of his face and his eyes never completed their roll. But he did begin to step away.
"The cards have a message of respect . . . to help women learn the language of respect . . . how to show respect for their husbands."
Your husband stopped, dead in his tracks and focused on what I was saying.
He blinked. Then, this man of confident countenance softened and wistfully, wishfully asked, "Would you show them to my wife?"
No, sorry, I can't tell you who I was talking to. I won't name names. It would not be fair to your husband or to you, his wife. Neither of you need to have your cover blown. His request was not meant to be a confession. It was an expression; an expression of his deepest desire.
To outsiders, you marriage is "perfect". Your love for each other is so obvious, your friendship is the envy of others around you. You adore him and he respects you.
But it was clear that your husband feels that something is missing. I'm familiar with his desire. It is the desire of my husband too. Despite all of my husband's faults and failures he still desires my respect. It would appear that your husband desires yours.
Check out my cards. See if there isn't one that would assure your husband that you really do respect him.
And - I would also invite you to join me in The Respect Dare™ E-Course with author, Nina Roesner. It is 9 weeks of community and encouragement. We walk through the book as she challenges us to make positive changes in our marriage and shows us how to improve intimacy with God. (It might remind you of "The Love Dare" as depicted in the movie "Fireproof".)
I don't happen to feel that a marriage needs to be in trouble before we learn to strengthen it. Based on everything I have seen in your life I can only guess that you feel the same way. You don't wait for disaster to strike before you get prepared. It is much easier to prepare than it is to react in case of emergency.
I was talking to your husband this weekend. He asked how I was doing since I got laid off from my job.
I told him that I had started a greeting card business and I was making some progress getting the word out. He was disinterested but pretending to care. I could only guess that he was picturing me sitting with disheveled hair and still in my pajamas late into the day at the dining room table piled high and cluttered with stamping supplies, doo-dads and lace making hand-made cards.
Then I said, "I create cards for wives to give their husbands."
Your husband successfully kept the smirk off of his face and his eyes never completed their roll. But he did begin to step away.
"The cards have a message of respect . . . to help women learn the language of respect . . . how to show respect for their husbands."
Your husband stopped, dead in his tracks and focused on what I was saying.
He blinked. Then, this man of confident countenance softened and wistfully, wishfully asked, "Would you show them to my wife?"
No, sorry, I can't tell you who I was talking to. I won't name names. It would not be fair to your husband or to you, his wife. Neither of you need to have your cover blown. His request was not meant to be a confession. It was an expression; an expression of his deepest desire.
To outsiders, you marriage is "perfect". Your love for each other is so obvious, your friendship is the envy of others around you. You adore him and he respects you.
But it was clear that your husband feels that something is missing. I'm familiar with his desire. It is the desire of my husband too. Despite all of my husband's faults and failures he still desires my respect. It would appear that your husband desires yours.
Check out my cards. See if there isn't one that would assure your husband that you really do respect him.
And - I would also invite you to join me in The Respect Dare™ E-Course with author, Nina Roesner. It is 9 weeks of community and encouragement. We walk through the book as she challenges us to make positive changes in our marriage and shows us how to improve intimacy with God. (It might remind you of "The Love Dare" as depicted in the movie "Fireproof".)
I don't happen to feel that a marriage needs to be in trouble before we learn to strengthen it. Based on everything I have seen in your life I can only guess that you feel the same way. You don't wait for disaster to strike before you get prepared. It is much easier to prepare than it is to react in case of emergency.
Tuesday, June 01, 2010
I Am Not a Nag
I've been reminded at least half a dozen times in recent days that my husband does not read my mind. No, he did not tell me this. He did not know that this has been on my mind. He cannot read my mind.
Some of the videos that I've been watching by Mark Gungor and Nina Roesner have been making the point that for a wife to get a man (husband) to do anything, he must be asked more than once. And then this morning, on Facebook, The Respect Dare posed this challenge:
Ask more than once? Isn't that called "nagging"?
The phrase "I will not nag" translates, for me, to "Never ask more than once".
And now at my ripe old age someone comes along and I find out, "Surprise! Nagging does not equal asking more than once."
Please understand. This comes as a complete contradiction to a particular decision I made as a child. I will not nag. That was the decision. I WILL NOT NAG. It has been written thousands of times on the invisible chalk board in my mind.
It is funny that I would make that decision as a child and never forget it. I never forget it but I do not always succeed. Of course, I nag. But then I beat myself up for it. After all, I know how bad a nagging wife can be and do not want to be a bad wife.
The "nagging wife" is fodder for comedy, tragedy and horror shows. Product advertisements and TV commercials have often relied on society's recognition of the "nagging wife" to capture the audience attention and pitch their wares. We've never been able to get away from it.
The nagging wife is seen as the antithesis of the happy wife. The "happy wife" does not have to ask for anything because she married a man who does read her mind. We've seen a few of these women in cinema and literature as well. I can only think of June Cleaver at the moment, but I am sure there are others.
Only recently has it come to my attention that the whole "nagging wife" stereotype should be eradicated, blown up, and destroyed.
The "nagging wife" is actually doing the right thing in the wrong voice. Nina Roesner, author of The Respect Dare, offers this advice:
Mark Gungor from "Laugh Your Way To A Better Marriage" has a delightful monologue on the topic as well.
This is all good information that boils down to one clear directive:
If you want your husband to do something - Respectfully ask him - more than once, if necessary.
What's Your Alternative?
Some of the videos that I've been watching by Mark Gungor and Nina Roesner have been making the point that for a wife to get a man (husband) to do anything, he must be asked more than once. And then this morning, on Facebook, The Respect Dare posed this challenge:
Frustrated with your husband because he doesn't know how to give you what you want? Be specific. Stop expecting him to "just know." Save that for your sisters, your mom and your girlfriends. Men (in general) relate differently than we do, so spell it out - "Honey, I would like you to just listen to me right now, without trying to solve this. I just want to talk and feel heard." "Honey, will you take out the trash?"
Ask more than once? Isn't that called "nagging"?
The phrase "I will not nag" translates, for me, to "Never ask more than once".
And now at my ripe old age someone comes along and I find out, "Surprise! Nagging does not equal asking more than once."
Please understand. This comes as a complete contradiction to a particular decision I made as a child. I will not nag. That was the decision. I WILL NOT NAG. It has been written thousands of times on the invisible chalk board in my mind.
It is funny that I would make that decision as a child and never forget it. I never forget it but I do not always succeed. Of course, I nag. But then I beat myself up for it. After all, I know how bad a nagging wife can be and do not want to be a bad wife.
The "nagging wife" is fodder for comedy, tragedy and horror shows. Product advertisements and TV commercials have often relied on society's recognition of the "nagging wife" to capture the audience attention and pitch their wares. We've never been able to get away from it.
The nagging wife is seen as the antithesis of the happy wife. The "happy wife" does not have to ask for anything because she married a man who does read her mind. We've seen a few of these women in cinema and literature as well. I can only think of June Cleaver at the moment, but I am sure there are others.
Only recently has it come to my attention that the whole "nagging wife" stereotype should be eradicated, blown up, and destroyed.
The "nagging wife" is actually doing the right thing in the wrong voice. Nina Roesner, author of The Respect Dare, offers this advice:
Mark Gungor from "Laugh Your Way To A Better Marriage" has a delightful monologue on the topic as well.
This is all good information that boils down to one clear directive:
If you want your husband to do something - Respectfully ask him - more than once, if necessary.
What's Your Alternative?
Do Not Forget to Appreciate Him!
Consider Today's Featured Respect Card
Saturday, May 29, 2010
My Husband, My Hero
Today I'd like to consider how a wife can respect a husband's desire to protect her. To be honest, I've been considering this topic for some time but today I'd like to focus on it. As I have been designing the respect cards for my Zazzle store, I have researched this topic more extensively than others.
My previous understanding of the subject came from my lengthy exposure to literature and film. From the fairy tales of childhood, cartoon television, Greek mythology, soap operas, magicians and movies I learned of the timeless appeal of men who rescue their damsels in distress. I was willing to accept that all men are born with the desire to protect and women are susceptible to the need for rescue.
Transferring that knowledge to the real life of my marriage was challenging. It was difficult to recognize the ways in which my husband could possibly protect me. There were so many things he was incapable of doing because of the stroke. He could not walk across grass or any uneven surface. He had no idea how to fix anything around the house, not even to replace a light bulb. He prides himself in earning his black belt in karate, but that was before the stroke. To picture him launching a coordinated defense against an attacker was, honestly, amusing.
And then, serendipitously, an opportunity presented itself for Bruce to demonstrate his ability to protect me. No, it did not involve a black belt. But, it did involve a black, white and yellow bird. Before I describe what happened I must introduce you to a bird species that can only be found in California. It is the yellow-billed magpie. The sound that these birds make is more annoying than all the crows in the movie "The Birds".
I was working on the computer at the back of the house this past Thursday morning and the front door of the house was open. The chatter of the magpies seemed to settle in my front yard. It sounded as if there were two factions of magpies engaged in a brutal battle in the trees. The sound grew louder and louder until I decided I should investigate. Laying flat on its back, with its yellow beak facing straight up was a very dead magpie. As I was puzzling over its demise I could hear the cackling of a crow high up in the trees, I shuddered and shut the door.
I then puzzled over how I would deal with the dead bird. The trash cans were at the curb, still full. I could scoop up the bird and take it to trash. But, I couldn't get past the thought of physically handling death, germs, bugs, gross . . . just gross. Then I remembered that I have a husband with a burning desire to protect me. I would wait until Bruce came home!
When he had come inside and put away his things, I asked if he had seen the dead bird lying in the yard. He had not. He started to ask me, "What do you want ME to do about IT?".
Then, as if to state a matter-of-fact, he said, "I know. You want me to take care of it."
He asked for a rubber glove for his "good" hand and a plastic bag to put the bird in. I asked if he would like me to double the bag and he agreed. Using the bags, I lined a small bucket. This would keep the bag rigid in Bruce's "bad" hand while he scooped up the bird with the other. He then headed out the door and walked across the uneven ground and grass where he paused.
"What if he bites me?"
I assured him that the bird had not moved so much as a feather all day. So this man, ever reluctant to bend down to pick something up for fear of being unable to rise again, leaned over and scooped up the bird. Just like that! It was incredible.
When he came back inside and came to the kitchen to wash up, I threw my arms around his neck. I really was grateful, incredibly grateful, to have a man to take care of me. And I made absolutely sure, by my actions, that he knew it!
My previous understanding of the subject came from my lengthy exposure to literature and film. From the fairy tales of childhood, cartoon television, Greek mythology, soap operas, magicians and movies I learned of the timeless appeal of men who rescue their damsels in distress. I was willing to accept that all men are born with the desire to protect and women are susceptible to the need for rescue.
Transferring that knowledge to the real life of my marriage was challenging. It was difficult to recognize the ways in which my husband could possibly protect me. There were so many things he was incapable of doing because of the stroke. He could not walk across grass or any uneven surface. He had no idea how to fix anything around the house, not even to replace a light bulb. He prides himself in earning his black belt in karate, but that was before the stroke. To picture him launching a coordinated defense against an attacker was, honestly, amusing.
And then, serendipitously, an opportunity presented itself for Bruce to demonstrate his ability to protect me. No, it did not involve a black belt. But, it did involve a black, white and yellow bird. Before I describe what happened I must introduce you to a bird species that can only be found in California. It is the yellow-billed magpie. The sound that these birds make is more annoying than all the crows in the movie "The Birds".
I was working on the computer at the back of the house this past Thursday morning and the front door of the house was open. The chatter of the magpies seemed to settle in my front yard. It sounded as if there were two factions of magpies engaged in a brutal battle in the trees. The sound grew louder and louder until I decided I should investigate. Laying flat on its back, with its yellow beak facing straight up was a very dead magpie. As I was puzzling over its demise I could hear the cackling of a crow high up in the trees, I shuddered and shut the door.
I then puzzled over how I would deal with the dead bird. The trash cans were at the curb, still full. I could scoop up the bird and take it to trash. But, I couldn't get past the thought of physically handling death, germs, bugs, gross . . . just gross. Then I remembered that I have a husband with a burning desire to protect me. I would wait until Bruce came home!
When he had come inside and put away his things, I asked if he had seen the dead bird lying in the yard. He had not. He started to ask me, "What do you want ME to do about IT?".
Then, as if to state a matter-of-fact, he said, "I know. You want me to take care of it."
He asked for a rubber glove for his "good" hand and a plastic bag to put the bird in. I asked if he would like me to double the bag and he agreed. Using the bags, I lined a small bucket. This would keep the bag rigid in Bruce's "bad" hand while he scooped up the bird with the other. He then headed out the door and walked across the uneven ground and grass where he paused.
"What if he bites me?"
I assured him that the bird had not moved so much as a feather all day. So this man, ever reluctant to bend down to pick something up for fear of being unable to rise again, leaned over and scooped up the bird. Just like that! It was incredible.
When he came back inside and came to the kitchen to wash up, I threw my arms around his neck. I really was grateful, incredibly grateful, to have a man to take care of me. And I made absolutely sure, by my actions, that he knew it!
Today's Featured Card is
Rescue
Word to the Wives ~ ~ Though he will not likely find you tied up and screaming for help, your husband does fantasize about opportunities to rescue you from real danger. As spiritual head as well as physical protector and provider, his calling is divine and the unseen enemy is relentless. Treasure your husband's desire to fulfill his calling.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Snippets of Success
I published the following status statement on Facebook earlier this week:
Today's Featured Card
Sharon Cohen received a call from her husband en route to work. "I just wanted to tell you that I feel better and it's mostly because you took such good care of me." Monday at 6:41am
For my readers here who don't follow me on Facebook, let me explain. My husband was battling a gruesome case of stomach flu over the weekend. Honestly, I could not tell if it was food poisoning or stomach flu when it began.
At the end of his shift on Friday, he called complaining of migraine headache type symptoms: an overwhelming pain on the top of his head, excessive thirst and simultaneously overwhelming nausea. With the help of a friend, we got him home and I helped him prepare for bed.
For the unaware, my husband is a stroke survivor with extreme weakness on his right side that makes dressing difficult when he is additionally impaired. It took about 30 minutes to get him changed from his work clothes to bedclothes. I kept checking his eyes for the tell-tale-fluttering-pupil-symptom that would warn if the shunt in his head had shifted or that he was going into a seizure. I couldn't remember which and I wondered if it was safe to leave him. I prayed a brief prayer and felt a sense of peace. I rose and stepped away from the bed. He seemed to be dozing when I left the room.
I had been giving him an electrolyte replacement drink throughout our trip home from work and within half an hour he began yelling about needing to throw up - RIGHT NOW.
I ran back to the bedroom and grabbed the trashcan. If you've never witnessed projectile vomiting I can only compare it to a sporadic power washer propelled from deep within the gut. I was amazed at my reaction. Normally I would be prompted to lose my stomach at times like this, but I was not even inclined to queasiness. (Praise God for sparing me that experience.) My husband continued for at least five minutes. Thankfully he never did progress to the dry heaves.
I will spare you the details of the clean-up effort required. I did not call for Haz-mat but I was tempted. My husband finally was able to lie down again. Unfortunately, he had expelled his sleeping pills and was unable to fall back to sleep. I waited about half an hour for his stomach to settle and I gave him his evening seizure medication, naproxen and over-the counter sleeping pills again.
I settled into an evening of waiting and listening. I could not bring myself to prepare dinner. I knew he wouldn't eat and I was hungry for his least favorite food of all times. I was afraid that the mere aroma would turn his stomach again. I waited until nearly 8:30 to get something to eat. He was up and down a few times before I finally went into bed.
The rest of the weekend is a blur. He rested most of the day on Saturday while I ran necessary errands. He even conceded that he was too ill to go out for dinner with our birthday-friend but let me go without him. Sunday morning he got up and dressed for church as if he had never been ill and then collapsed back into bed before ever leaving the house. I remember keeping him fed on the blandest food acceptable and stocked with plenty of liquids.
I do clearly remember one very important detail. I spent a great deal of time battling within myself about my own behavior through all of this. Every stereotypical response a wife would make to a sick husband played in my mind. It seemed at every turn I struggled to silence the voice in my head and the urge to belittle him.
"Grow up, Bruce."
"You whine like a little baby."
"You'd think you'd never been sick before."
"Good thing men don't give birth - mankind would be extinct."
"Buck up - take it like a man."
I kept returning to Ephesians 5:33b.
"This is the time that God meant to address when He inspired those words!" I was talking to myself a lot this weekend. ". . . and let the wife see that she respects her husband."
There were moments this weekend when that scripture taunted, haunted and teased me to do what was right. When Monday morning arrived I had not yet begun to evaluate what I had experienced and how I had handled it when the phone rang.
It was Bruce; calling to tell me he had arrived safely at work, as he always does. Then he would normally wish me a good day and promise that he would call again on his lunch break. This morning, things were different.
"I just wanted to tell you that I feel better and it's mostly because you took such good care of me."
(click through to read the message)
Monday, May 24, 2010
Respecting the Differences
One of the most important things that I have learned in life is this;
Men and women are different; fundamentally different. As soon as I began to respect my husband for being a man (and stopped trying to change him) wonderful things began to happen.
I began to accept that God wired us differently. He did not say that man was better than woman or that woman was better than man. God only said that it was not good for man to be alone. God created Eve and God said, THEN, that it was good.
When I met my husband it was obvious that he was starving for respect. He had been belittled and put down by nearly every person that he had ever loved and yet, he was willing to take another chance. It was so simple. I began to appreciate him. I became his number one fan. Most importantly, I remained his number one fan after we married. I practice new ways - new routines, if you will - to cheer him on. I look for opportunities to encourage him. If he is reluctant to try something new I reach into his past and call to his mind his successes.
It has taken me over half a century to accept that men are men and women are women - and there is nothing fundamentally wrong with either one! My husband did not seem to have any need, compulsion or desire to change me. I was accepted and appreciated. Once I was able to allow him to be him and to respect and appreciate who he is - as a man - wonderful things began to happen.
It would be so wonderful to spend another half century respecting and enjoying the differences.
I began to accept that God wired us differently. He did not say that man was better than woman or that woman was better than man. God only said that it was not good for man to be alone. God created Eve and God said, THEN, that it was good.
When I met my husband it was obvious that he was starving for respect. He had been belittled and put down by nearly every person that he had ever loved and yet, he was willing to take another chance. It was so simple. I began to appreciate him. I became his number one fan. Most importantly, I remained his number one fan after we married. I practice new ways - new routines, if you will - to cheer him on. I look for opportunities to encourage him. If he is reluctant to try something new I reach into his past and call to his mind his successes.
It has taken me over half a century to accept that men are men and women are women - and there is nothing fundamentally wrong with either one! My husband did not seem to have any need, compulsion or desire to change me. I was accepted and appreciated. Once I was able to allow him to be him and to respect and appreciate who he is - as a man - wonderful things began to happen.
It would be so wonderful to spend another half century respecting and enjoying the differences.
RESPECT and The Feminist Movement
I know that my perspective on the following issue has not been popular, but I have been quiet for 40 years simply because I prefer to avoid conflict. That is not to say that your opposing comments are not welcome. I am a big girl now. I can take it. So, please, feel free to share your thoughts at the end of this post.
I was a young girl at the time of Franklin's recording and from then until now I did not appreciate the "feminist movement'. I felt that I was being robbed of my privileges as a female by the loud, overbearing and angry women holding public demonstrations. They filled the airwaves, TV shows and public places in their efforts to indoctrinate impressionable girls like me.
But I was not convinced. I liked being a girl and for heaven's sake, I had not even worn my first bra when "they" started asking me to burn it!
Seriously, my parents made sure that I learned to be capable of great things. I was taught to dream big and was encouraged to acquire a higher eduction, to pursue lofty dreams and to grab the brass ring of financial success. I was not blind to the options and opportunities around me. But, even without a Christian focus in my home and without anything more than a rudimentary understanding of the scriptures, I knew that God had designed men and women to be different from one another.
From where I entered the scene, on the cusp between the 1950's and the 1960's, I could see that men handled the chores and assignments that I was more than grateful to forfeit to them. I had no interest in being the bread-winner, trash-hauler, flat-tire-changer, lawn-mower, house-painter, or pooper-scooper.
In my childhood these chores (and many others more gross and disgusting) were handled by men or boys. I thought that, considering the feminine talents given to us, women could avoid the really disgusting work for as long as they chose. I had no desire to take that "opportunity" away from the boys.
I could also see that men would do most anything - dangerous, gross, dirty, filthy things - simply for the respect of a woman. Most especially impressive was to what lengths a man would go to receive the admiration, appreciation and respect of a woman.
I watched, on the other hand, the demoralizing, degrading and male bashing depths to which some women would sink in making their demand for equal or greater respect and for the sake of women's "liberation".
When the women's liberation movement took hold, men began to be robbed of the respect that preceding generations had received. Suddenly, to respect a man was seen as a sign of feminine submission, surrender and subjugation. Society perverted the scriptural injunctions resulting in women believing that to give a man respect demeans her in some way. The capstone of the feminist teaching was to further indoctrinate girls to believe that respect must be earned or that it is only required in reciprocity.
However, when God requires respect or honor of Himself or others, the scriptures teach the opposite. No matter how thoroughly I have searched the scriptures, I can find no qualifiers to the commandment to honor my parents or to the instruction to respect my husband.
With regard to styles and fads, I do not suggest that we return to the ways of the world before the women's liberation movement. But we must admit that the ways of the world are not God's ways. Respect does not go out of style and honor is not a fad.
While historically women may not have been held in the high regard that God (according to the scriptures) requires of men, we must not engage in a game of tit-for-tat by denying men the respect that God requires of women. Let us ever remember that as women of God we are capable of far greater grace than that.
I do not expect that a few respectful women will transform the world. However, for the sake of their marriages, I will challenge other women of God to return to the teachings in Ephesians 5:33b. After all, all He's asking for is just a little respect.
From Wikipedia: "Respect" is a song written and originally released by Stax recording artist Otis Redding in 1965. "Respect" became a 1967 hit and signature song for R&B singer Aretha Franklin. While Redding wrote the song as a man's plea for respect and recognition from a woman,
. . . the roles were reversed for Franklin's version. Franklin's cover was a landmark for the feminist movement. (Listen for the difference in the message of Aretha's version.)
I was a young girl at the time of Franklin's recording and from then until now I did not appreciate the "feminist movement'. I felt that I was being robbed of my privileges as a female by the loud, overbearing and angry women holding public demonstrations. They filled the airwaves, TV shows and public places in their efforts to indoctrinate impressionable girls like me.
But I was not convinced. I liked being a girl and for heaven's sake, I had not even worn my first bra when "they" started asking me to burn it!
Seriously, my parents made sure that I learned to be capable of great things. I was taught to dream big and was encouraged to acquire a higher eduction, to pursue lofty dreams and to grab the brass ring of financial success. I was not blind to the options and opportunities around me. But, even without a Christian focus in my home and without anything more than a rudimentary understanding of the scriptures, I knew that God had designed men and women to be different from one another.
From where I entered the scene, on the cusp between the 1950's and the 1960's, I could see that men handled the chores and assignments that I was more than grateful to forfeit to them. I had no interest in being the bread-winner, trash-hauler, flat-tire-changer, lawn-mower, house-painter, or pooper-scooper.
In my childhood these chores (and many others more gross and disgusting) were handled by men or boys. I thought that, considering the feminine talents given to us, women could avoid the really disgusting work for as long as they chose. I had no desire to take that "opportunity" away from the boys.
I could also see that men would do most anything - dangerous, gross, dirty, filthy things - simply for the respect of a woman. Most especially impressive was to what lengths a man would go to receive the admiration, appreciation and respect of a woman.
I watched, on the other hand, the demoralizing, degrading and male bashing depths to which some women would sink in making their demand for equal or greater respect and for the sake of women's "liberation".
When the women's liberation movement took hold, men began to be robbed of the respect that preceding generations had received. Suddenly, to respect a man was seen as a sign of feminine submission, surrender and subjugation. Society perverted the scriptural injunctions resulting in women believing that to give a man respect demeans her in some way. The capstone of the feminist teaching was to further indoctrinate girls to believe that respect must be earned or that it is only required in reciprocity.
However, when God requires respect or honor of Himself or others, the scriptures teach the opposite. No matter how thoroughly I have searched the scriptures, I can find no qualifiers to the commandment to honor my parents or to the instruction to respect my husband.
With regard to styles and fads, I do not suggest that we return to the ways of the world before the women's liberation movement. But we must admit that the ways of the world are not God's ways. Respect does not go out of style and honor is not a fad.
While historically women may not have been held in the high regard that God (according to the scriptures) requires of men, we must not engage in a game of tit-for-tat by denying men the respect that God requires of women. Let us ever remember that as women of God we are capable of far greater grace than that.
I do not expect that a few respectful women will transform the world. However, for the sake of their marriages, I will challenge other women of God to return to the teachings in Ephesians 5:33b. After all, all He's asking for is just a little respect.
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