I don’t know if you’ve given this any thought lately, but let me remind you of something. Men are not women.
I was hit square between the eyes with this powerful reminder just a few days ago.
My husband, bless his heart, was relaxing quietly at the kitchen table, minding his own business as I returned to our peaceful home.
My own brain had been swirling, replaying the day’s events during my commute and when I burst on scene I may have resembled a rabid squirrel in a full-blown tizzy barging into the room.
Without so much as a friendly greeting, I began to vividly describe recent events including my struggle with a particularly difficult relationship which I may or may not have mentioned to him in the past. Daily. Ad nauseam.
With great passion and exuberant hand signals, I described my grievances. As the conversation rounded the corner for home, my eyes returned to the kitchen, and my husband still sitting in the same position, motionless.
He appeared to be (perhaps) listening quietly, not uttering a word.
To his credit, he did not jump in to fix the situation. Oh no, this man has some years of marriage under his belt. He said nothing. No head nod, no “mmhmm” in agreement. Nothing.
Sister, any girlfriend worth her weight would have understood my frustration. She would have known how to empathize. How to listen to the end, shaking her head in agreement and finding precisely the best balance of sisterly support, dislike for the culprit and holy “we’ll pray for him” solidarity.
To be clear, my hubby actually did nothing wrong. It was my expectations steering me south down a twisty dark path of disappointment. And this was not my first visit to such a path. If I’m honest, I’m a frequent visitor.
Time after time I find myself baiting my husband, longing for affirmation of his everlasting devotion. Maybe this time he will give me the answer I’m dying to hear.
To a man’s ears, that sentence must sound like a statement of fact. Like “I wish the Leafs won” or “I wish there was pie.” But for a woman, or at least for me, it’s an invitation left hanging, vulnerable, echoing in the dark. Yearning for confirmation, dreading certain rejection.
Listen, sister he’s not being unkind. He seriously has no clue. He’s a man.
- Men don’t worry that their sweater falls in the wrong spot on their torso.
- Men don’t change their socks to match their shoes, leading to changing their pants, resulting in their shirt clashing and the unforeseen necessity of a whole new ensemble as he walks out the door.
- Men don’t wonder if the extra ten pounds is noticeable on their hips.
- Men don’t change their opinion depending on the day of the month.
- Men don’t think about underlying tones and the seven things that a passing comment could have meant.
I’m trying to remember to adjust my expectations. I know my affirmation comes from my Creator alone. God created you and me with a longing only HE can fill. He has already spoken over us with His great love. We are chosen and cherished beyond measure.
To be perfectly honest, I’m glad men are not women. I’m thankful my husband is rock solid and predictable. One woman over here is enough.
♥ Tess
Psalm 90:14 Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days.
