Sometimes when I get pouty, I don't want to talk to anyone, least of all my dear husband. And so, right now he's doing the dishes while I'm cranking loud music into my earbuds, blocking out sounds of his convicting sermons blaring in the background.
Is it helping? Not really. But the defensiveness that flared up in me at our earlier argument has dissipated somewhat. Now I can probably talk, I'll probably apologize for my attitude, and we'll talk about our issue, and we'll watch a movie, and we'll brush our teeth, and we'll read our evening Bible, and we'll go to bed, and we'll snuggle up close, grateful that we could talk things out.
I sometimes need time. I didn't really know that. But I've learned. Oh, how I've learned. I see the frustration that grows in his eyes when he's working really hard to figure out what it is he can say or do to bring me out of my funk, my sulking. We've both learned that nothing helps. Except time and a lot of grace.
Tonight we had a wonderful dinner with great friends, and this friend, she is so generous. We left with some vegetables, a new Bodum, a book, and a new pair of jeans for me. And especially those new jeans, they're just what I needed. God provides in small ways that even I never dreamed possible.
If He can give me a new pair of jeans, just like that, He can provide a way out of my pity-party.
and that's just what we need.