I tend to be a very forgiving person. It comes quite naturally for me seeing as how easily I forget things. For the most part I've always been the first and fastest to say I'm sorry. That's never been difficult for me but something happened somewhere between my wedding day and a year of marriage that made it so difficult to say "I'm sorry".
I found the love of my life, we married, and when the honey moon was over, we settled into our, less than normal, lives. It had been a long and taxing week for us both and our nerves were a little worn. I was fixing dinner, he was unwinding in front of the television, and my mind was racing over all the things that needed attention. I poked my head around the corner and saw him cozy in his recliner, watching a ball game. The steam from boiling noodles whacked me in the face and then for some reason I felt inspired to mention a little "Honey do" list. First I informed him that a couple of light bulbs needed changed, the garbage needed taken out and there were a few things that needed fixed. He replied with a quiet "ok" and continued with his pursuit for relaxation.
I stired the noodles a few moments then peered back into the living room at him. He was just sitting there all cozy in his big ugly recliner. He must have forgotten already so it was my obvious duty to remind him. "By the way, the door knob to the closet is broken," I voiced loudly from the kitchen.
Suddenly and sharply he chimed, "Everything in this house is broken, isn't it!" My jaw dropped. Did he really just raise voice at me? How dare he! I tried to ignore it. Really, I did, but it was the straw. The very last straw of the day. I picked up the noodles and quietly drained them. Anger was spilling out of me. My face was growing hot and my mind raced. "Okay, Recliner boy! Have it your way." I thought to myself as I searched for something to throw.
Now, I'm a woman of caution and self control, so I will admit I picked up several objects before I decided that there is no appropriate object to throw. But I wanted to make my point and get that last word. I grabbed an oven mitt, pulled garlic bread from the oven, then stood in the door way thinking that if he saw me, he'd give me that apology I so deserved. He didn't say a word. Not one word. He didn't even look at me. I was fuming. Finally in a fit of rage, I threw my dainty little oven mitt as hard as I could. I chucked that puppy so hard my elbow hurt for days, then waited for the result.
It floated into the room as if on the wings of angels. It drifted out of the air and quietly slid across the hard wood floor. I expected that thing to plow through the living room and smack the floor like a hammer but she just didn't have it in her. I stood embarrassed, dreading his reaction. His gaze went from the television to the oven mitt. He smirked, fixed his eyes on me, and back to the television. Embarrassed and angry, I stormed out of the room, stomped up the stairs and slammed the bedroom door. As soon as the door slammed, I wasn't mad anymore. I started to giggle and think about how silly I had been. That still small voice was telling me I had been stupid and it was time to apologize. I pulled myself up by my boot straps and when I came to the top of the stairs, I remembered that stupid oven mitt. I was embarrassed and I didn't want to apologize. But why? I've never had that problem before.
God was telling me to say "I'm sorry" and I was saying "I don't want to". I didn't understand this feeling until God made it loud and clear. He said,"That's called pride." I was astonished. I had heard of it before but it was never really a struggle for me. So I repented and slowly headed down the stairs. I stood at the door to the living room. The oven mitt was still there, gawking at me. I walked up to his chair, opened my mouth and he said,"I'm sorry." Of all the nerve! He beat me to the punch. I accepted his apology and Said I was sorry. I returned the oven mitt to the kitchen and I've never thrown another object out of anger. I started out, telling my husband that he needed to change the light bulbs, take out the garbage, and fix a few things but God got a hold of me that evening. I'm so thankful that He used my moment of weakness to shed some light (light bulb), take out my pride (garbage) , and fix a few things.
"Pride goes before destruction,
a haughty spirit before a fall." Proverbs 16:18
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