It’s funny the things that God uses to teach you important lessons. For some, like Baalam, He used a donkey…for others, like me, He uses frozen pizza.
Before I was married, I had all these grand ideas about how I would be such a wonderful wife. The house would always be as clean as possible, I would always make meals from scratch, I would make sure the laundry hamper was never overflowing. I could maybe fudge on some of them if I was deathly ill or something, but other than then, I would work hard to be a good wife and make sure that all that was done.
For the first month or so of my marriage, I was kind of able to keep up with those goals, but then I got pregnant and very sick and those ideals on how to be a good wife flew out the window. And I was devastated…I felt like I was failing as a wife because my husband had to eat peanut butter and honey sandwiches for lunch. The Lord taught me a lot through that time about having grace for myself, but I still felt like, if I could, I should still always try very hard to make those things happen.
Fast forward to these last couple weeks. Now a little bit more seasoned in marriage (a whole year and a half!), I’m beginning to see that “being a good wife” isn’t about keeping the perfect house and cooking amazing meals all the time. It’s about pleasing your husband and being focused on the things that are important to him. Yes, my husband likes it when the house is clean and the laundry is done, and he loves my cooking…but he’d rather the floor not be mopped and that we have frozen pizza so that he can spend his evenings with a wife who isn’t exhausted. Granted, there are days when I can clean and cook and launderize up a storm and still be full of energy when my husband is home in the evening. But at this season of my life, pregnant and mommy to a little boy who is still learning how to sleep at night, many days it does come down to whether or not to mop the floor or nap. And I know my husband would rather have me nap so I’m not exhausted when evening rolls around and we can finally spend time together.
And I discovered, like a lot of things, this struggle boils down to pride. I’m proud of the fact that, in general, my house is quite clean. I’m proud that I’m a good cook and we hardly ever eat convenience meals. So I trundle along, exhausting myself and making sure that my pride doesn’t fall. But then the Lord revealed my sin to me, and at our last trip to Trader Joe’s, I made myself buy some frozen entrees. And in the last weeks, we’ve eaten some of them, and I wasn’t even deathly ill. And I’m realising that my husband can’t even tell when the floor is mopped or not, so if he wants me to rest, I should rest even if I think that the floor “needs” to be mopped.
So I’m learning to nap. And have frozen pizza once in awhile.