fold out couch

Last night Pastor and I slept in separate beds.  It was by choice.  He slept in the bonus room, and I slept in our bed.  Before your blood pressure rises we were not fighting, and I did not kick him out of our space.  He has been prepping for a special-man race and had to get up SUPER early.  I am a light sleeper so he sweetly volunteered to sleep on the couch so I could rest well.

Unfortunately, I didn't rest well.  It was a terrible night of non-sleeping.  There are a lot of reasons I feel I didn't sleep.  The main reason I believe has to do with the fact that Pastor and I had tough conversations before I hit the sack.....never a good idea....

refiners fire = little sleep

I won't waste your time on all the in-betweens...and I won't try to paint false pictures....truth is...I am impatient, cranky, prideful and irritable when it comes to the husband of my youth.  These last couple of years have been so intense for us.  We are closer than ever which makes my desire for good fruit stronger than ever.  I have moments, in my immaturity, where I would like to punish him or withdraw because I feel like he is slowing me down and not getting with "my program."  Last night, as I discussed truth with the Lord, He reminded me that we are ONE.  We are ONE.  I wouldn't just say to a body part of mine..."you are so annoying," "you keep getting in my way," "I think I will just try and do things without you."  No, I would nurture the struggling part until it was stronger, because I realize how much I need it to function.  God gave me Pastor because I need him to be all that He has created me to be.  He is a part of me and I am a part of him....for better or worse.

He is a warrior for me, and I must choose to celebrate our differences.

Marriage is hard.  It is.  I love it.  I wouldn't do my life any other way, but it is frustrating.  This whole dying to self and esteeming the other is really tricky, and I would say in general I normally get a failing grade...so thankful God's doesn't do report cards.  I think the main truth...the hard truth is that I don't like the filth it stirs up in me.

If I am being obedient to my Father, I step into the muck, I smell the stink, I work at the mess, and I seek help without hiding.  Obedience is hard....I want it.... but without cost....doesn't work that way.

I am not looking for a medal, but I am looking for a stamp on my heart and life that says I reflect my Papa and my Good Pastor.....very costly....

Today, I continue to talk to my Daddy about what HIS best is for me....how can I honor HIM most.  I don't want to keep tripping over myself, but I have some big, stinky feet.

At this moment I am enjoying some of the many good fruits my marriage has brought me....

cuddly children on a Saturday morning...no hurry...no rush...all cozied up on Pastor's pull out bed.  Remembering that blessings can come from fold-out couches, wrestling with mud...and Daughters that see their struggles and fight the urge to dash.