Getting the Recipe Wrong

         

    I'm worried. Have you ever made a recipe, you have already made enough times that you have  it stored  in your brain. It is lodged there somewhere next to tying your shoes and riding a bike. Yet somehow this time when you pull it out of the oven, it doesn't look right. How could it not look right? I know that I know that I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING...

     After calling the whole family in to look at and taste it everyone concludes the obvious, you missed something. You knew it but when others confirm it some how it just makes the mistake sting a little more. Looking back at the messy counter space, it becomes clear. The milk carton isn't out. Without milk the whole consistency is off.  And then you remember just when you were about to grab the milk from the fridge your phone started buzzing...

    Do you follow my drift? Like rehashing a tried and true recipe stored away in the brain, I tend to think I am fine with relationships. If you ask me how my family is doing most of the time I am honest with my "we're doing great," reply. But something hasn't been quite right and if you come up close you might be able to sense it.

    The problem has been popping up with my men. I have lived with men my whole life but I realize I still don't understand them and they don't really understand me. In an effort to do better I was listening to a podcast about the inner workings of a man's mind.

I shook my head. I have it all wrong, and I just don't know how to get this recipe right.

    Growing up with three brothers I felt frustrated. I cleaned the kitchen while they played basketball. I cared about my grades, I was busy with plays and show choir, but accomplishments didn't get the attention basketball did. I was hurt and defensive.

    After maturing a little and falling in love I was sure the man I married was nothing like my ridiculous brothers. Certainly I would always love and respect him. I have loved him 100% but please, do you expect me to Respect the way he washes dishes but leaves all the silverware in the sink because he abandons ship before they can be cleaned.

    Shouldn't I speak up when he forgets to buy the off brand unscented baby wipes and instead forks over TWO EXTRA DOLLARS for the name brand floral scented ones? My poor baby's rear end will be redder than Rudolf's shiny nose.

    These are little things to speak up about. Certainly I am not a nag, I tell myself. This is the recipe I have been using for years...So why do I feel like we are not connecting?

    It just hit me between the eyes this morning that I got it wrong. Men and Women look at the world differently and as much as I can say: Women want to be loved and Men want to be respected if I don't know how to show respect my relationships won't get better.

    I mentioned this to my teenage daughter, who rolled her eyes and said, Men are dumb. Some how her statement catapulted me back to my own adolescents and the ugly names my brother called my Mom when he was mad. I was so ticked off at him. Other incidents with men belittling me came to mind. I still felt angry. But as I looked at this budding young woman I realized I didn't want her to grow up with the baggage I carried.

     I love my husband and my sons.

     The first ingredient I need in heaping measure is Forgiveness. In my hurt I can try to control these precious boys expecting them to think in the same detail that I do. I may expect them to tell me everything they think and feel when this is just not how they are hard wired.

    Second I need to say Thank you. When one of my guys does something for me, even if it isn't the way I would do it, I can be grateful for their act of love. I'm going to practice right now.

"Thank you honey for washing the dishes." I don't have to point out the forks and spoons he forgot to finish. Even if it takes all my will power to button my lips I can and I will.

   The reason I listened to the podcast in the first place was to try to figure out how to talk to my 18 year-old boy. You see I don't want to lose him with the wrong kind of talk. I can tell I am on thin ice already, and as I listened I took notes. I took notes because I love these men I share my home with. Speaking their language doesn't come naturally, but I vowed again to try. They are worth it.

   I am worried that I am not getting the recipe right, but I am also hopeful because this is a new day. What if I can move forward more careful with my words, expectations, and assumptions. What if I can lead my daughters to forgive too? What if we can improve this recipe we call family.

  A woman can dream.

   Thankfully I am not alone in my desire. I have faith that God cares about these men in my world even more than I do. With His help I can do anything. I am encouraged by the apostle Paul's words in 1 Corinthians 13.

  Love is Patient, Love is kind. It does not envy, It does not boast, It is not proud. It does not dishonor others, It is not self-seeking, It is not easily angered, It keeps not record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 

Love Never Fails.