One of the Nicest Things My Wife Ever Said to Me

My wife Annette taught middle school science for 19 years. Like many organizations, the schools she worked in were mostly populated by wonderful people but also had a sprinkling of “how-does-this-person-keep-their-job” types. One individual in particular who seemed unusually difficult was one of her assistant principals. He consistently exhibited less common sense than most of the middle school students. Plus, he repeatedly failed to support the teachers, making their jobs much harder.

During one of our home Bible Studies, Annette was describing his latest foolish idea. Misbehaving students are often required to spend several days in the In-School Suspension (ISS) room as punishment. Annette explained that Mr. Brain Trust suggested the school buy a ping pong table for the ISS room so students would have something to do while in detention.

Think about that. An unmotivated student is bored in class, so he decides to act up in order to hone his ping pong skills. Great plan!

As Annette was explaining this idiotic proposal, she said, “Even though he has come up with dumb ideas in the past, this was the absolute stupidest thing he ever suggested. And it made me mad that he was pushing a plan that would make it harder for me to teach effectively. I don’t think I’ve ever been as mad at any adult in my entire life.” And then she added as she looked at me, “Well, . . . except you!”

The Bible Study group erupted into laughter, and I loved it! That’s one of the nicest things she ever said to me. It showed she is secure enough in our marriage that she has the freedom to express anger to me knowing I’m not going anywhere. And it’s reciprocal. I’ve been known to send some angry words in her direction. But early in our marriage, at Annette’s suggestion, we agreed we would never utter the word “divorce,” even in jest.

No relationship is stress-free, and, of course, negative comments should be few and far-between. Furthermore, the Apostle Paul encourages us to deal with conflict quickly and “not let the sun go down on your anger” (Ephesians 4:26). Marriages or friendships built on mutual love, commitment, trust, and honesty can withstand minor “skirmishes.” Annette and I are both strong-willed and opinionated. And, believe it or not, I have sometimes been known to be stubborn and difficult to live with. But part of the reason we can express our occasional frustration with each other is that we have a baseline, unshakable commitment to never go away.

In the past, I’ve written about some of the difficult individuals in my family of origin. Having people like that in your life creates challenges when it comes to buying greeting cards for “personal” holidays like birthdays, Fathers’ Day or Mothers’ Day. Sending a sentiment like “you’re the glue that holds our family together” or “thank you for always caring” would be disingenuous. And some of the people I’m thinking about have no sense of humor, so the funny cards don’t work. That leaves me with the “enjoy your special day” type cards. Pretty bland.

I was pleased by the dilemma I faced this last Valentine’s Day. I couldn’t decide between two equally “warm” cards. Each expressed a sentiment I genuinely felt toward Annette. So, instead of choosing between the two, I got them both.

Annette recently came up with a great life-saying: 

“Be the kind of person it’s easy to buy a greeting card for.”

She embodies that! Part of what goes into being that type of person is a solid commitment to the important people in your life and a willingness to receive occasional negative feedback. If you live like this saying suggests, I suspect the people who are closest to you are secure enough in your relationship that they’re not afraid to be angry with you when you deserve it.

And for the record, I agreed that the ping pong table idea was idiotic.

My Story - Part 3 - My First "Jesus Moment"

Here’s a recap of the first two parts:  I had almost no religious input in my early years and was raised in a dysfunctional, emotionally abusive family. During my sophomore year of college, because of my flirtation with the paranormal, I attended a program that discussed whether contact with dead people was possible. To my surprise, the answer was “no,” but the program also included an entirely new “take” on Jesus’ life, death and resurrection – the fact that he did what he did to address everyone’s sin problem, making a vital relationship with him possible. Even though I didn’t fully understand what I was getting in to, I eagerly accepted the speaker’s invitation to commit my life to Christ.

One of the last things the speaker mentioned was that those of us who had just begun a relationship with Jesus should expect to see God begin revealing himself to us in the coming days. Again, I didn’t know what that meant, but that sounded pretty intriguing.

Let me provide some context for what happened next by explaining my roommate situation. Even though Art and I were pretty good friends during our freshman year, living together proved to be our relationship’s death knell. He was hyper-neat and, to say the least, I was not.  He was also a hypochondriac and was on a first-name basis with the entire student health clinic staff team. We quickly got on each other’s nerves, and I started complaining (loudly) to the other guys on the floor about what a kook Art was, even to the point of posting unflattering comments about him on our dorm room door. I know. That was very mature of me.

About three days after the program where I heard about a relationship with Christ, I was heading back to my dorm after class. I planned to take a quick shower before dinner, and as I approached our room, I saw that Art had posted a nasty comment about me on our door for all the world to see. I was furious! How dare he do that!

I ripped the note from the door, grabbed my towel and headed to the bathroom, fuming. The steam from the hot shower paralleled the steam boiling up inside me as I plotted how to retaliate for this public humiliation.

But then something happened.

In the middle of my anger, a new thought popped into my head. I realized I was the one who had begun the public “war of the door signs,” and Art was just following my example. So really, I was the one who brought this embarrassment on myself.

Then I had another very odd experience. I don’t know if technically it was a vision or just some kind of visual impression. I felt like I was up in my parents’ home’s attic rummaging through some old boxes of junk when I glanced up at the inexpensive metal wardrobe where we stored coats. It was up against one of the walls, and in my vision, I noticed that it was actually covering up a doorway that was barely visible behind it. I had never noticed this door before. In my mind, I pushed the wardrobe aside, opened the door, and discovered a large room behind the wall that I had been totally unaware of.

My very next thought was of the speaker’s comment from three nights prior indicating that if we trusted Christ to enter our lives, he would begin to show us things about ourselves and give us the ability to live in ways we never thought possible. “I bet this insight into my blame over my roommate feud is an example of what that guy was saying,” I thought. Jesus had just brought me into a previously unknown “room of my soul” and revealed one of my deficiencies. And, even though I had to face an unhappy truth about myself, I was delighted knowing that I could move on from here and that this whole Jesus thing was real.

That was fifty years ago, and since then, there have been hundreds and maybe thousands of instances where God has nudged me with specific ideas, insights, and promptings, all designed to make me gradually more like Jesus in ways I could not have dreamed of. Once in a great while, these experiences are fairly dramatic, but the vast majority are rather “ordinary.”

Please understand, I have a long way to go, but I can say that I bear almost no resemblance to that cocky, insecure, pseudo-intellectual high schooler from so many decades ago. Praise God! And I wanted to pass along to you my story as a testimonial about what God can do.