For better, for worse

One morning, I was playing referee as my coworkers Abigail and Rebecca discussed an important topic: which was better, the panache of Denzel or the swagger of Idris.  The debate was abandoned when the conversation funneled into talk about men in general. I listened as the two older women dosed out tidbits about their experiences with the opposite sex. But both Abigail and I stood incredulously as Rebecca told us this story. 


When she was younger, there was a woman in her church who always intrigued her. Grace was beautiful with a head full of silky springs of curls. Every Sunday, she'd leave her seat and walk up to the altar for prayer.


Every Sunday. 


Rebecca wondered what on earth could be troubling her so that she sought prayer every week. So, one day, she asked Grace what was she praying for.


Grace said years ago, her husband, a deacon in the church, left her for another woman. He moved out of their home to a new town with this new romance. Since the day he left, Grace had prayed and prayed for God to bring her husband back to her. 


Some time later, her husband had a stroke that left him unable to care for himself. Grace went to the town he was living in and brought him back to her home so she could care for him. 


Her husband indeed did come back to her. 


Grace probably never thought her husband would break their vows and leave her. But I'm sure he never thought that the woman he cheated on would be the one who so willingly would take care of him in such a state.  


A story like this makes me fervently pray for wisdom when it comes to a mate. A man who has integrity and an ear tuned into the Father but one who is also committed in every sense of the word. 


It's sort of scary. How do you know that the person you've married will truly stick with you when it gets tough? 


This past week, I read an article about a woman who suffered brain damage during the birth of her triplets. Her husband, left to care for the triplets virtually on his own, divorced her two years later, telling her parents that he was ready to "move on." Her parents are currently caring for her and fighting her husband for visitation rights.  While reading this, I thought, "Did she ever think that he would do something like this?" 


It's easy to stay dedicated and true when times are good. 


When paychecks are plentiful.


 When children are innocent. 


When looks are unblemished, bones are strong, and the twister ripping apart the neighbor's house looks like it going to miss yours. But it almost never works like that.  

I definitely pray for wisdom when it comes to heart matters. 

Someone who will dance with me in life's sunshine and get drenched with me in life's rain. 

Someone who won't run when it's hard but stay and fight with me. 

Eager to please. 

The first time I saw that phrase, I must have been 6 or 7. A teacher had written it in the comments section of my report card. I remember seeing her blue ballpoint cursive on the paper, and I had asked my mother what it meant. 

My mother said, 

"It means you like to please people. 

You're always ready to do what she says." 

Throughout my childhood and adolescence, that phrase defined me. I went above and beyond with my school work so teachers and my parents wouldn't be disappointed. I was quick to apologize to friends for any slight, real or imagined, for fear of losing their companionship. 

Most of all, I said yes. Too many times. 

Brewing the courage to refuse was physically painful, and I couldn't bear to see the damage of my "no" splattering all over someone's face. 

So I committed myself to causes that my heart was not in,bending over backwards so a person could smile and have an easier day. 

My comfort zone is padded with cotton soft acquiescence, easy compliance with anything anyone asks of me.But, lately, as the Lord continues to erase my life limits, He's put me in tough situations where I've had to deny a yes. It hurts but I know it's needed.

As God so gently told me today,

 Sometimes wisdom means saying no.