Dear God, It’s Andrea - 

After fifteen years of marriage, plus three years of dating, I’m just going to come out and say it: I don’t get men.

I really don’t.

Last week, in particular, was rough. My son’s tics were at an all time high, which made my temper run even hotter. 

I tried to go to Rex for support, but lo and behold, he had a different take on the tics than I did. “Our son is fine,” he said. “They don’t bother him, they bother you. So YOU need to get a hold of yourself here.”

I’m sure that my husband was being protective of my boy. Likely he was tired of hearing the same lament from me over. “And over. And over.

And over and over and over.

And over and over,” (I quote that. No joke.) 

Perhaps his bluntness was his way of having me understand, “I’m worried about your reaction, sweetie.” What I heard was, “Suck it.”

A rational person might have taken a break from the all-out attack aimed at my spouse. But not me. Combined with work worry, some personal issues in my daughter’s life, and a house that resembled a U-Haul storage unit on crack (with a ginormous wind machine in the center…it was a disaster) I was far from feeling loving. 

“What about meeeeeeee,” was my battle cry. The flag I waved read, “Janet Jackson got it right!” (You get the song reference, Lord.)

Fights ensued.

Anger? Um, yeah, lots of anger. 

At one point, while fighting over medication options, I conceded to my spouse’s thoughts on the matter which was to wait until my son’s symptoms were bothering my son more. Letting my hubby have the final word would have been so amazing and Christ-like…if I could just let it go. 

I could not. 

Resentment built higher than the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Yup, up until the moment I started typing, I’ve been a Pisa work.

And really, is this helping my family? No. Is this helping my spouse? No. And really, why did I have to rant and rave to ten million people and friends rather than first rant and rave to you? 

Just typing out this letter, I’m feeling better. I don’t know why my son’s tics are up. I don’t know why my spouse and I have to engage in combat war when we have a disagreement. After all, you wrote: 

If a man has recently married, he must not be sent to war or have any other duty laid on him. For one year he is to be free to stay at home and bring happiness to the wife he has married. – Deutoronomy 24:5.

According to that passage, not only am I not to engage in war, but Rex is suppose to serve me! Oh, wait, I’m taking that out of context? And what’s that you say? We’ve been married for a decade and a half so the one year service contract has expired?

Fine. Like I said, I don’t know much. But I do know this: You have a plan for my son. You have a plan for my marriage. And you have a plan for my spouse.I’m tired of fighting. It leaves me dazed, confused and drained. Sooooo…draiiiiined.

While I’ll admit I’m not the kind of Christian to just “Let go, let God” (cliche, blah) I’m asking for guidance to trust you more… to read your Word. Because when I do that, I rarely fall into fear. I do things smarter.

For the foolishness of God is wiser than man’s wisdom, and the weakness of God is stonger than man’s strength. – 1 Corinthians 1:25 Thank you for your Word.

Thank you for being a wise counselor. Help me to be a mature woman of God who can be the best person I can be for my family – remembering to serve others, but setting healthy boundaries also.

Andrea

PS: Since apparently you can send angels to fight demons and raise people from the dead, can you send someone to clean my house? Thanks.

Anyone else struggling with their relationships this week? Here’s a really great video on the subject of men and women. It’s not Christian (Oh, my!) but it’s very smart and psychologically based. Really worth a look. Calmed me right on down and gave me a new way to view my caveman…er…. spouse.

Leave a Comment: Leave a comment here, on Facebook or email me at Andrea.Paventi@Gmail.com. I try to answer all my letters, but if I don’t, I save them and pray over them. (When I’m not railing at God over things I can’t change – like my irritation at Facebook. Thanks for the all the nice comments on that post!)