Thoughts about Bricks

I am standing in my kitchen weighing my options, measuring my ingredients, measuring my heart.  The specifics don’t matter so much.  The upshot is:  I’m mad. The water simmers on the stove and I am stewing inside.

Do I set down a brick–a brick of unmet expectations?  Bricks turn into walls and I feel like I could be a master mason if left to my own devices.  

Marriage is work–not so much because there’s something wrong with him, but because right now there is something wrong with me.  I am surprised at my own selfish ways–(though I shouldn’t be–the pattern of confession and repentance repeats like flying geese on my life-quilt).

I let a good and hard and good truth start simmering–there is only One who truly has the right to be offended. And He is ready to forgive!  I am undone and I venture into mercy and I find my husband and tell him I’m sorry.  His arms are strong and he holds me . . . so much like his Father, ready to forgive.  The geese take flight.

About Julie

A happy wife, a mom on the learning curve, a daughter of the King . . .
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1 Response to Thoughts about Bricks

  1. Faye says:

    Thanks for sharing! This is right where I am.

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