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What All Guys Want - "Tell Me More"

I've rolled my eyes more than once as my husband has launched into telling me the intricacies of Defensive Tactics in Hockey.  Or Why Girls Should Not Play Hockey On Boys Teams.  Oh boy.  Here we go.

Tempted as I am to hold up the palm and say "Heard it already," something from our recent conversation about Refuge prevents me.  Hey, (slap, slap) my guy is talking to me about something that's important to him! 

I lean in and try to think of an intelligent question to ask.  Caught completely off-guard by my interest, the spark in his answer is unmistakable.  I watch his animation as he talks about his passion.  He's pretty cute when he's all fired up!

Yeah, that's better than the silence that would have followed the outstretched palm, that's for sure.

Being Tom's refuge means remembering what's important to him, and showing an interest.

Extra Credit is given for actually encouraging him in his interest.  I can imagine you saying, "Now why would I want to encourage my husband in something that takes him away from what he REALLY needs to be doing around here?" (i.e. helping out more around the house, fixing the leaky faucet.)  I hear ya.  Boy, do I hear ya.

But I pose the question back to you.  Why NOT encourage him?  My guy doesn't want me to just see him as a beast of burden, good for bringing home a paycheck and then working on the chores.  He needs me to see him as the man who's Got Something Goin' ON, who's good at stuff besides drudgery, who has an important opinion (even if it's about who should be the starting quarterback in Sunday's big game.) 

Let's face it.  What guy doesn't want his girl to say, "Tell me more?"

Suppress the urge to roll your eyes and listen with your heart.  When your man is telling you about the latest tool at Home Depot, or how he shaved a stroke off his golf game, you are being his refuge.

When he is beaten down by the dog-eat-dog world at work and you don't criticize him for what he coulda shoulda done, you are being his refuge.

Refuge is what happens when I willingly become the place my husband turns TO, not FROM..... to let off steam, to express his thoughts, to find his way.  It happens when I let go of my expectations of him, and give him the space and freedom to be himself.   It gives him mental sanctuary to know that I'm not policing the stuff he finds interesting, and better yet, I'm making an effort to understand his personal pursuits.

And that leaky faucet?  It might get fixed even faster by the guy who knows his girl finds him fascinating!  If not, hire a plumber.

Rachel Anne

P.S. Next post: The Frog Inside My Prince - more on Refuge

What All Guys Want

Recently, a simple question started a great conversation with my husband on a long drive one afternoon.

I was preparing to share with my Bible Study Group on the topic of building a foundation of peace in your marriage.

My thoughts had turned to Prov. 31:11: “…the heart of her husband safely trusts her.” In other words, she is a place of refuge to her husband.

I turned to Tom and asked him the questions I was planning to have the ladies ask their husbands. “How can I be a place of refuge to you? In what ways can I show my love to you in these areas: mentally, emotionally, spiritually and physically? What makes you feel loved?”

I knew he would help me pull my material together for the Bible Study, but I was completely unprepared for the depth of sincerity and the appreciation he expressed over being asked the questions for us.

My man needs me to be his refuge!

Our conversation that afternoon covered a lot of ground: from the NHL to the bedroom, and left me realizing that it’s often the simplest things that mean the most.

When it all comes down to it, being my husband’s refuge is the most important thing I can do for him. It is providing that safe harbor in this crazy world of competition, financial stress, a personal crises. It is accepting failures and disappointments, and loving unselfishly in ways that are meaningful to him. Here is what he said:

“The truth is, refuge is what all guys want: They want a woman who loves and accepts them for who they are. Your marriage is the only relationship in the world where you don’t have to be on your guard, never showing weakness. Refuge is kind of what sex is about too: being completely one with a woman meets not just a physical desire, but the need to be intimately known and loved.”

Wow, he’s eloquent. He even managed to throw in a nugget about sex, and I appreciated it in a way that I hadn’t before.

The ladies in my class had some amazing conversations of their own that week. Some were afraid to broach the subject for fear of what they would hear. But all were completely astounded at the simple, yet profound things their husbands shared with them when asked. One husband simply wished his wife could bring him some cold iced tea when he was mowing the grass. “That would really make me feel good,” he said. “My grandma used to bring iced tea to my grandpa, and I always thought I’d like that, too.”

With tears in her eyes, she told our group, “I never knew that something so small could mean that much to him.”

So what does refuge mean to your husband? I encourage you to take a chance and just ask him, “How can I be your refuge?”

And then listen with your heart. You might be surprised by what you learn.

Temporary Speech Impediment, Cured?

For most of this last week, I have been forthed to thpeak with a lithp.  Three little canker sores found a home on the tip of my tongue and MAN OH MAN do they hurt! 

I've tried drinking my morning coffee without it touching my tongue:  all the caffiene with none of the pleasure! 

I've stayed away from orange juice, Pespsi and ketchup. (Exception: Whataburger Ketchup in those little tubs, so good with fries!)

I've tried hard not to eat chips, really I have.

I dunked my tongue into yoghurt, but the blueberries stung a little. 

I tried rinsing with warm salt water.  I heard somewhere it is supposed to help, but it only made me really thirsty.

Finally, I googled "canker sores home remedy", the only source of true help for a situation like this.

MotherNature.com has a bunch of good suggestions.  I immediately tried rinsing with Milk of Magnesia and, though chalky, brought immediate soothing.  And to think I'll have the added benefit of overnight constipation relief, I am positively elated!

I might try sucking on a black tea bag (I can only imagine what my teeth will look like afterward!), or swishing hydogen peroxide around.  The fizzing bubbles might feel good.

But I DRAW THE LINE on "taking some earwax and applying it to the sores!"  No, thankth, I'd rather lithp.

Rachel Anne

Elle is 20!

(Background music, please.  "Sunrise, Sunset" from Fiddler on the Roof in E minor)

The years really HAVE flown by!  I keep remembering how, on that first day home from the hospital I laid down on the bed with that little pink bundle asleep next to me.  I was 22 years old, dizzy with the thought, "This is MY BABY!  I am a MOM!"  and my eyes couldn't stop drinking in the absolute perfection of that tiny girl.  I will never forget the wonder of that incredible moment.  Elle made me a mother.

And look at her now!  A married woman working on her college degree, with a great future ahead of her!  Can it really be that we made it through the terrible twos, the elementary years, the "Middle School Muddles," Driver's Ed, boys, sibling squabbles, High School, college applications and a wedding?  Some of those years seemed sooooo loooong, I thought they would never end.  But here we are, and she is amazing in spite of parental blunders and never having had a designer wardrobe.  Creative, smart, thoughtful, fun, responsible, God-loving.....proof that God can create great kids even when the parents don't always know what they are doing.

We are proud of you, Elle!  Happy Birthday!

Stepping Out of the Boat

They say that fear of public speaking outranks fear of death in the list of things people are most afraid of.  I can relate to that. 

My mouth does dry.

My palms get sweaty.

I feel like I have to go tinkle.  Urgently. And often.

My vision gets blurry.

Worst, my voice quakes and sounds like I just inhaled helium.

That's why, when I felt the Lord prompting me to lead a Bible Study, I found every reason not to.  Too busy.  I work during the day.  I don't know enough.  I can't get organized.  All perfectly legit, but not the true reason.

The real reason was:  FEAR

It's not that I thought those nice church ladies would be a tough crowd, I knew I couldn't find a better group of people to venture forth with.  Still, the thought of actually talking OUT LOUD for 30 minutes made my stomach turn.

Then I've kinda gotten mad! Why should a FEELING, a passing FEELING determine whether or not I would do something?   I am letting fear get the best of me, and I don't want to live like that anymore.  I committed to following through with the study, even though I was (am) quaking inside.

With Week Two under my belt, I can honestly say that the Lord is helping me overcome my phobia.  I have my crutches: lots of notes, a cup of water, an eye on the door in case I need to bolt.  I'm sure my nervousness is obvious, but I'm doing my best to "fake it 'til I make it!"

Like Peter, I want to step out of the boat and walk on water!  Jesus made the Impossible Possible - as long as Peter's eyes were on Him and not the waves.  Could He do the same for me?

There is only one way to find out: you gotta put that first leg out over the side and start walking.

Rachel Anne