Well, really I want to go there, but I'm not sure how. Because that voice inside me (Sohlmate and I have named her Margaret, and she's even more bossy than I) tells me that I have a demanding responsibility to point out exactly where my husband's missing _________ (the blank to be filled with the up-to-the-minute thing that he's lacking or forgotten or blown up or messed up).
Interestingly, I'm so glad that I don't have someone like myself following me around to let me know where I'm lacking or missing things. Which is, as I recognize, a complete double standard.
I've been blessed to hear a few great women offer interpretations of what God's ideal submission looks like. It isn't lying dormant and it isn't simply giving over to which ever wild hair makes it... well you know where. But somewhere in the muck that's clogged my mind, I've forgotten what the picture really is intended to be.
All this to say, I'm not sure whether or not Margaret has a vaild point - I'm not sure that Sohlmate's missing or lacking. As a few wise mentors have reminded me, when it's time to point out who is lacking, the task of pointing out the speck is much more comfortable than identifying the log in my own eye.
So... what are your insights? What does your example of submission look like? Or, if you're like me, how do you cope with that voice telling you to point out the speck? And how do you reprogram or ignore it?
2 comments:
Hey I really want to redo your header! Don't you have any new updated pics yet!?!?!
We watched the "Taming of the Shrew" for Sunny's birthday. And the man insisted that the moon was the sun and the woman agreed. Then he insisted that the moon was really the moon and she agreed again. That was total submission.
I won't ever go that far, but there was so much freedom in the tamed shrew's mannerisms. She didn't have to worry about making her point or getting her way.
I just thought to myself, "Wow! How simple!" It is so much easier to make the husband do all the thinking . . . I do enough of it with three kids!
And if the moon turns out to be the sun, hey, it's not my fault.
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