Sometimes I wish I could exchange parts of my personality. For example, I wish I was the kind of person who becomes effusive in the presence of pretty things, which would solve most of my marital problems, since I would always be telling Lindsay how pretty she looked.
In reality, I like to reflect happily on beauty in a kind of appreciative silence that is invariably broken by Lindsay calling me out: "Three other people said I looked really good and you didn't say anything."
And she is right. It has happened again.
"But babe," I say, "I thought it. I just forgot to say it."
This defense is less than spectacular, but it is the best I have been able to come up with. In fact, it is not really true. It wasn't that I forgot to say something complimentary, but that it never occurred to me. To say anything. See, you're already confused, which is why I never use this defense with Lindsay.
It's the way I've turned out that's the problem. I'm missing those genes that make married men gush audibly over their wives every night and twice daily on weekends. I think there must be a DNA strand that would solve this little problem. As illustrated by this simple diagram, you would think the task would not be insurmountable.
That dress looks good on her. - - - - - - > "You look good in that dress!"
Really, how hard could it be? Harder than you think. But when you sign up for marriage, you sign up for change, which is why I will keep struggling to overcome my genetic tendency toward the quiet appreciation of beauty. At least until science catches up and a patch becomes available.
Not that there isn't hope. For example, on Sunday morning I ironed my own shirt. So you can beat these things.
2 comments:
I was looking for the sermonic connection between this and our (or the Church's--the Church as the Bride of Christ*) relationship to God--I thought that was where this was headed. Or were you leaving that blank open for your readers to fill in?
*Here's hoping that "Bride of Christ" business doesn't tick off that Driscoll fella.
John, you're out ahead of me on this one. The application could easily be made, though, couldn't it? God has known about his bride, the church, from eternity--known about the fall, the habitual sin patterns, the various abuses and repudiations of grace that would follow--and he still bursts into applause. Says things like, "The saints are my glorious ones."
There is absolutely a lesson for husbands there. And my own shortcomings in the audible praise department make God's very generous comments about the church all the more amazing.
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