Cryin' In My Alfredo
I worked my tail off yesterday.
I feel amazingly better, which is a huge, huge, huge blessing. (I'll post about that some other time.) Since I was feeling good, I figured I needed to get busy tying up the loose ends on our house project. Speaking of loose ends--do they ever actually end?
Anyhow, I decided I would finish all the exterior caulking and painting. I worked on it all day.
Then Allan strolled through the door while I was fixing dinner, gave me a hug, and very gently critiqued my method of caulking and painting around the windows.
I turned back to the stove and cried in my alfredo.
I shed a tear for the messy kitchen, that was neglected while I worked outside. I shed a tear for the laundry on the couch and the baskets spewing clothes. I shed a tear for the stuff laying against the wall that needs to go to Goodwill. I shed a tear for the paint cans, rollers, and junk in my kitchen and laundry room that has been there for 9 months. I shed a tear for the kids' closets that need to be cleaned out. I shed a tear the curtains I haven't hung, the cabinets that still need painted, and the car that needs washed and deep cleaned.
And I shed 11 tears because, basically, I was feeling overworked and underpaid.
I kept stirring and crying and hoping Allan would notice while he rummaged around the laundry room. I knew if he noticed, he would hug me and ask me what was wrong. I would tell him, and he would say how sorry he was and that I was an amazing wife. He would say how much he appreciated all that I do for the family and how patient I am with the kids.
But he didn't notice.
So, I cried some more in my alfredo.
Then God whispered to me. And whenever He whispers, it's always said in such a loving way: "Whatever you do, do it with your whole heart, just like you're doing it for me."
That's unconditional love, isn't it? When the people we love the most don't give us the affirmation we want, but we keep plugging along because we love them.
So, I dried my tears and sat down to a table full of the people I love most in the world and thanked God for them. They all exclaimed over the food and asked for seconds.
And they never even knew all that went into that alfredo.
I feel amazingly better, which is a huge, huge, huge blessing. (I'll post about that some other time.) Since I was feeling good, I figured I needed to get busy tying up the loose ends on our house project. Speaking of loose ends--do they ever actually end?
Anyhow, I decided I would finish all the exterior caulking and painting. I worked on it all day.
Then Allan strolled through the door while I was fixing dinner, gave me a hug, and very gently critiqued my method of caulking and painting around the windows.
I turned back to the stove and cried in my alfredo.
I shed a tear for the messy kitchen, that was neglected while I worked outside. I shed a tear for the laundry on the couch and the baskets spewing clothes. I shed a tear for the stuff laying against the wall that needs to go to Goodwill. I shed a tear for the paint cans, rollers, and junk in my kitchen and laundry room that has been there for 9 months. I shed a tear for the kids' closets that need to be cleaned out. I shed a tear the curtains I haven't hung, the cabinets that still need painted, and the car that needs washed and deep cleaned.
And I shed 11 tears because, basically, I was feeling overworked and underpaid.
I kept stirring and crying and hoping Allan would notice while he rummaged around the laundry room. I knew if he noticed, he would hug me and ask me what was wrong. I would tell him, and he would say how sorry he was and that I was an amazing wife. He would say how much he appreciated all that I do for the family and how patient I am with the kids.
But he didn't notice.
So, I cried some more in my alfredo.
Then God whispered to me. And whenever He whispers, it's always said in such a loving way: "Whatever you do, do it with your whole heart, just like you're doing it for me."
That's unconditional love, isn't it? When the people we love the most don't give us the affirmation we want, but we keep plugging along because we love them.
So, I dried my tears and sat down to a table full of the people I love most in the world and thanked God for them. They all exclaimed over the food and asked for seconds.
And they never even knew all that went into that alfredo.
Great post!!!
ReplyDeleteThe moments we have cried tears in our alfredo and pray to God to help us through the hard moment, are learning lessons. They are moments of faith. When we get to choose to listen to that still small voice inside that reminds us why we have the passion for what we do and why what we do matters. Even if unnoticed. Even if critiqued. It matters.
Love the lyrics to the song Matter by For King & Country, especially the line: You matter, I hope you know you [it all] matters.
Sounds like "Tear Water Tea" (Owl at Home, by Arnold Lobel) to me...... :) Sonja
ReplyDeleteoh gosh, can so relate with this post but regretfully I don't always end it like you did, to my shame. Such a good reminder Mel!
ReplyDelete