Open Letter to my husband
I got mad at you today. You weren’t even there for me to yell at, but I cursed you anyway. Who knows, maybe I cursed you because you weren’t there.
That’s the thing, you see. Some days I need more of you, my husband, more than you can provide. So I yell at your poor dog that I have to feed in your absence, or I gripe at the trash you forgot to take out. I rant at discarded dirty laundry on the floor, and I tell it things like, “If it weren’t for me none of us would have anything clean to wear.”
The most peculiar thing happens when I rage at the empty space around me, out of the children’s earshot and susceptible little minds. When I fuss at the very air I breathe the anger grows inside me, and somehow, a normally happy woman, I instead become a bitter one who suddenly feels very put upon. I become certain in those moments of self-fueling resentment that I am the only one who works for this family.
I’m sorry I forget the struggles that you face, and I apologize that in my frazzled, overwhelmed mommy moments I think it’s all about me. Somewhere between waking to people pulling on my pants leg and asking for food, to constant, repetitive questions of “why” I start to lose my cool. Between breakfast and lunch and snack, and the many crumbs between, I slip in the patience department. So as the day continues into late night and it’s still just me, my nerves become bare, and in my mind I am sure that I’m not appreciated one single bit. And I guess that makes me the maddest of all.
The strange part (or maybe not) is that as I’m yelling at you (when you’re not even there) I realize I don’t mean it at all. I’m not mad at you; I’m just mad, but I suppose human nature tells us we have to blame somebody. It tells me that it’s all about me. My contributions. My hard work. My sacrifice. I have no doubt Satan destroys many marriages making folks think it’s all about them, but the truth is marriage isn’t just one person. It’s two. So then I tell myself to stop focusing on me, and instead to focus on you.
Then I see your sacrifice. Your hard work. Your contribution. The truth is we both do so much; we just do different things, and in different ways. I see you, but I also know that you see me. It’s why we work so well. Some days I just forget that for a minute or two. Or three.
The fact is we both make mistakes. We forget stuff, we speak without thinking, we do the wrong thing. That’s just marriage. But we also forgive, we lay down our anger, and we see how much we each give to the relationship in our own special way.
I’m so grateful for you, my husband. Even on the days I get mad; especially on the days I get mad. I’m thankful that I don’t transverse this life without you, for that I cannot fathom.
1 Corinthians 13:4-7 New Living Translation (NLT)
4 Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud 5 or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. 6 It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. 7 Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.
I am so blessed to be your wife and to have you as my husband, and I just wanted you to know.
About the Author: Brie Gowen is a 30-something (sliding ever closer to 40-something) wife and mother. When she’s not loving on her hubby, chasing after the toddler or playing princess with her four-year-old, she enjoys cooking, reading and writing down her thoughts to share with others. Brie is also a huge lover of Jesus. She finds immense joy in the peace a relationship with her Savior provides, and she might just tell you about it sometime. She’d love for you to check out her blog at BrieGowen.com.