Adjusting to my husband’s new work schedule has been harder than expected. His new hours rarely allow us to go to bed at the same time or see each other much during the day. Throughout the challenging weeks, I felt the Lord prompting my heart to focus on my husband. If there were ever a time to bless him through service and a kind spirit, it would have been this last month.
I wish I could tell you I obeyed, but instead I threw myself a pity party.
I clung to my frazzled state. I lamented that managing every single detail of my house, husband, and children was solely on my shoulders. I took the trash out (my husband’s chore). I went through our evening routine of dinner, bath, and bed for our five young children without any assistance. I alone had to keep track of schoolwork, laundry, carpool, piano lessons, meals, and errands. I would fall asleep around two in the morning, hoping to get a solid four hours of sleep, but inevitably, I would be needed at least six times during those few sacred hours of sleep. I could have used that time to appreciate how much my husband regularly contributes to my life, but instead I felt sorry for myself that he was on a rough rotation. When he wanted to talk about his new job, I didn’t want to listen because he had been too busy or tired to listen to me.
I threw myself a pity party.
When my husband came down with a terrible virus, I found myself wanting to scream rather than sympathize. I’ve read stories of wives and husbands who considered taking care of a sick spouse to be a gift. I knew that is what a “good wife” would do, and there was a minimal part of me that wanted to care for Jason, but it faded in comparison to my tantrum. I was exhausted and sensitive from being needed around the clock for so many days, so when my husband said he didn’t feel well, I claimed he had no room to complain. He may have felt like death, but I was the one having to pick up the slack. I felt sorry for myself (not him!) that he was sick.
My self-focused attitude not only interferes in my earthly relationships, but it also interferes in my relationship with God. If I look at my life and think, “I’ve got it so hard,” then I’m looking at everything with a “woe is me, you owe me” attitude. I don’t shut off that attitude when I talk to God. How can I be a good wife without Christ infusing me and empowering me to be, but how can he fill me up if I want to spit “poor me” venom whenever I open my mouth?
I felt the Lord saying, “Tap into the power of the I Am,” but I ignored him. I didn’t want to. I’m not mad at God—I’m not even mad at my husband—but I am choosing to brood over circumstances. This time of transition could be a very sweet time for us as I trust the Lord to bring peace and endurance to our family. However, I exchange that for the ability to whine, cry, and throw myself a pity party.
I’m wasting days by not tapping into God’s power. I’m missing out on being refined. I no longer want to pass up the goodness this season could bring!
How do you combat being a pity-party wife?
I am sharing this post with Grace & Truth Linkup via Arabah Joy Blog.