My name is Carrie Okie and I am a recovering land mine. I sincerely hope my husband can recover from the land mine I used to be. It is inconceivable to me that my husband would not know what is wrong with me. After all, I asked him to do something two days ago and he still hasn’t done it.
As time goes on, steam is starting to rise in my spirit. Oh! And there he goes adding more fuel to my fire with a couple of other behaviors that drive me nuts. HE HAS TO KNOW WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME? HOW COULD HE NOT KNOW? The steam continues to soar. . .
All I need is some ignition and we will have a full blown four alarm fire pouring out of my mouth and hateful facial expressions. And now here he comes with that fuel. He finds the courage to ask me, “Is something wrong?” WHAT’S WRONG? REALLY? YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME? How could you not know when I am remaining completely silent and shutting you out? You mean my sighing all the time and slamming cabinet doors and lugging laundry around with a spirit of wrath hasn’t made it all clear?
He asks because he loves me and he wants to know so he can fix it (He is awesome at fixing things but not so awesome at reading my mind and translating my subtle body language that I think is obvious). . .
So like an unpredictable land mine that could blow up at any moment, I say “NOTHING.”
After all, if he doesn’t know what’s wrong with me by now, he doesn’t deserve to know. If he really loved me, he would respond in the way I secretly want him to.
He is confused. He is scared. He has no idea what is coming at him or why. He cannot communicate his valiant heart from this place of fear and uncertainty that I have created.
To make matters worse, I have let him know with my words, my body language, and every disgusted sigh that I do not RESPECT him.
I have not “won” anything worth having. My husband is also a huge loser in this scenario. But Satan is oh so happy he could get me that crazy. Even if I only ride the crazy train a short time, the enemy can do a lot of damage.
So I am digging up the land mines and retiring my grenades. I want my husband and I to walk in a field of sweet Kansas wheat growing in “okie” red fertile soil. I want to plant wildflowers along our path and provide some cool, refreshing wells along the way. . .
I will have to be quieter. I will have to believe that my husband is always a great man with good intentions. I will have to release the selfish desires that stir my spirit the wrong way. . .
It will not be easy because I am a mouthy, fiery, little thang.
But when we lay our heads back in the beautiful field of our marriage and see flowers growing where there used to be land mines. . . well, that will be worth it.