I smacked my husband sharply on the shoulder. And because I’m not looking forward to becoming a husband-beater, I said sorry. It was breakfast and he had stuffed his mouth with cold porridge as I was telling him to give it to me. It needed more heating up. He wouldn’t listen. I was mad!
At night I said to him, “If I don’t learn to be patient with you now, what makes me think I can change overnight when we have kids?”
“Yeah and with the kids too,” he mumbled.
I had a vision of God looking at me through my children’s eyes and I shuddered.
What happens at home is about as personal as it gets. I may appear respectable at all other times, but what would people think if they scrutinize my time with my husband? What would they see? How do I treat my husband when we’re alone?
In any case, don’t all bad behaviour have the peculiar penchant of making its appearance in public places? There’s so much talking to my husband that I do in front of others — am I able to be patient then?
The real test of all godliness is when the rubber hits the road.
And I thought about how hard all this is. Then I realised how very much I need God in the minutes of everyday life. Not just when I’m alone and praying; but when I’m with my husband and actually talking to him.
And the cool thing is I read that in Romans 12:2,
Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.
‘By testing you may discern’ translates Greek dokimazō, which often has the sense of finding out the worth of something by putting it to use or testing it in actual practice.
Maybe, just maybe, I would never really know that this project is worth it till it’s over and I’ve tested it in actual practice. Then I will know know.