Daddy has been getting pounded down by all sorts of things. His "honey do" and personal to do lists are longer than mine. He does the finances, the investing, the working outside the home, is the spiritual leader of the home, and manages to keep our confession schedule. Phew! In addition to that, he's the handy house-husband and my physical refuge. God provides the spiritual fuel for me, but Daddy holds the fort down when I have to get out and recharge my batteries. He NEVER asks for that....NEVER. He doesn't need it. He likes things like:
- time to do the banking,
- talking about politics or his work,
- listening to Los StraightJackets, or
- finding his favorite childhood cartoons on YouTube
He also loves, loves, loves to read. He purposely won't get a subscription to the Wall Street Journal (his favorite periodical) because he says he'll be too distracted reading it than to pay attention to us and his other responsibilities.
But there is one evil demon that has been harassing my husband!
That's right! It's our House! It's possessed! Well, maybe it's not possessed, but it's falling apart all over the place.
It all started with the doorbell. Not once but several times people have resulted to banging on my door just to get me to answer it. Without fail, said person will proceed to ask me if I knew my doorbell isn't working. I continue to tell them, "Yes, I know." It's not been functioning for probably....three years now! Why isn't my doorbell fixed? TIME! Because every time, Daddy wants to work on it, some crazy disaster happens like a blowout diaper, or a cat fight, or this crazy woman shows up demanding a night off. That's why.
This he could handle, but then the door knob fell off the entryway door to the garage, two toilets have been leaking, and I swear the tanks will fill in unison. As if that weren't enough, one of the doors to the living room fell off its hinges while one of the godmother's was dropping off a St. Nicholas Day present for one of the children. How's that for one's humility! Finally, as I was flushing the toilet in our bathroom this morning, the chain busted for the flopper. The poor thing just sat down on the toilet with his head in his hands and started a litany of things like:
- no wonder I can't get any proposals finished
- no wonder I can't make more money for all of us
- no wonder this house is falling apart
Yada, yada, yada! So, I did my little happy dance for him because I had just weighed myself and realized I lost two more pounds!
I was also reminded of the movie, "It's a Wonderful Life" that I watched with the kids last weekend for my birthday. Daddy didn't watch it because he was babysitting Jane and Nick. Figures!
I don't want my hubby to jump! I don't want him to feel like he never should have been born or that we would all be better off without him. Daddy wasn't saying all of these things or intimating that he may not come home from work today. But I resolved after that incident in the bathroom, to pray for the rest of my Advent preparation for him. He is one of the best gifts I've ever received from the Baby Jesus! He's loved, has friends, has purpose, and is the best person to have a laugh with...IMHO. He knows we're in the hardest time of our lives raising the children and dealing with the day to day, but every once in a while those evil forces try to pull his mind somewhere else where he may doubt. I don't need him to doubt. I need him to believe!
My prayers will be for him the rest of this week and next. Do you want to join me? Why don't we all lift up our happy, hard-working husbands so they can have a beautiful gift to open in the loving embrace of that Blessed Infant, Jesus.
P.S. If you haven't seen this movie...yet...you should. Watch it this weekend and have a happy cry together!