Post by John on Jun 15, 2007 10:13:29 GMT -5
Marriage Partnership, Summer 2007
Stop, Drop, and Kiss
One small gesture sparked romantic evenings.
by Mandy Houk
A typical evening at five o'clock in our house would find me cooking dinner, my two small daughters desperately in need of a bath, and my ears perked, awaiting a magical sound—the garage door opener. This was the blessed signal that my husband, Pete, had arrived home from work. Yes! I'd think, mentally pumping my fist. Reinforcements!
As he came through the door, I'd give Pete a choice: "You want to make sure the rice doesn't boil over or get the girls in the tub?" And that was on a good day, when he walked in smiling.
If he dared to come home dragging and tired. … Well, game on, buddy. Get ready for the Exhaustion Olympics. "Oh, you would not believe the day I've had," I'd groan. "I did 14 loads of laundry, went to the grocery store, the post office, and the bank—not the ATM, mind you, the actual inside of the bank, standing for 45 minutes in that roped-off line." (Cue the dramatic sigh.) "You've got to help me with dinner; I'm about to keel over." So there.
Then our pastor began a series of messages on marriage. The first three focused on the husband's role. As I diligently took notes, I was struck by my great fortune in being married to Pete. He's tender, patient, tolerant of my insanity, generous, steadfast, loyal, and loving. By the third Sunday, I couldn't get all his wonderful qualities out of my mind. All day Monday I was preoccupied with the kind of thoughts I'd had when we were first falling in love. So when Pete arrived home that night, things weren't all that typical.
For the rest of the story . . .
www.christianitytoday.com/mp/2007/002/19.54.html
Simplistic, yes but after mulling it over in the cobwebs of my mind I thought, OK we all have to start somewher. Many times when DW comes home I'm Focused on what I'M doing. Maybe I need to start Focusing on Her being home . . .
Stop, Drop, and Kiss
One small gesture sparked romantic evenings.
by Mandy Houk
A typical evening at five o'clock in our house would find me cooking dinner, my two small daughters desperately in need of a bath, and my ears perked, awaiting a magical sound—the garage door opener. This was the blessed signal that my husband, Pete, had arrived home from work. Yes! I'd think, mentally pumping my fist. Reinforcements!
As he came through the door, I'd give Pete a choice: "You want to make sure the rice doesn't boil over or get the girls in the tub?" And that was on a good day, when he walked in smiling.
If he dared to come home dragging and tired. … Well, game on, buddy. Get ready for the Exhaustion Olympics. "Oh, you would not believe the day I've had," I'd groan. "I did 14 loads of laundry, went to the grocery store, the post office, and the bank—not the ATM, mind you, the actual inside of the bank, standing for 45 minutes in that roped-off line." (Cue the dramatic sigh.) "You've got to help me with dinner; I'm about to keel over." So there.
Then our pastor began a series of messages on marriage. The first three focused on the husband's role. As I diligently took notes, I was struck by my great fortune in being married to Pete. He's tender, patient, tolerant of my insanity, generous, steadfast, loyal, and loving. By the third Sunday, I couldn't get all his wonderful qualities out of my mind. All day Monday I was preoccupied with the kind of thoughts I'd had when we were first falling in love. So when Pete arrived home that night, things weren't all that typical.
For the rest of the story . . .
www.christianitytoday.com/mp/2007/002/19.54.html
Simplistic, yes but after mulling it over in the cobwebs of my mind I thought, OK we all have to start somewher. Many times when DW comes home I'm Focused on what I'M doing. Maybe I need to start Focusing on Her being home . . .
I was about to conquer the world but then I got distracted by something shiny.
