Jenefer Igarashi

If you are a feminist, do not read this article. You will only be compelled to send me angry letters and/or hate mail. If you are a saintly wife who has (what you consider, anyway) a drumstick for a husband, do not read this--you'll also be irritated and send me angry letters and complain about why I could never understand your personal plight. If you are a whiney, spoiled woman who either does or doesn't recognize it, WELCOME! And if you are an imperfect wife married to an imperfect husband, you may find this letter of interest ... When my husband took my hand at the end of the aisle on our wedding day, it was the luckiest day of his life. I thought as myself as being intriguing, entertaining, quick-witted and an object of sheer loveliness (one moment please ... gag). What he had actually married was a selfish, stubborn, egotistical, whiney, manipulative, greedy, demanding, bratty, unstable weirdsmobile. What a lucky guy... Now, for the sake of accuracy, I should say that I wasn't all THAT bad--I had some redeeming qualities (one being that I truly did want to serve God and live a Christian life); as a matter of fact, I had enough good qualities to keep me feeling secure in my faith. Therefore, I focused instead on what was wrong with my husband. In our first year of marriage, my darling would work all day and then come home to a house that needed to be cleaned and no dinner on the table. Also to a sour wife who was mad that she had to be bored and cooped up by herself at home without a car (oh, if only she had a car). This poor, unsuspecting man would generally respond with patience and love. Sometimes he'd even clean the house, put together a tasty dinner and try to console his pouty young wife. We were very poor; we had but one car and soon several kids, a lot of credit card debt and continual runs of bad luck. And if he ever dared to ask me to help with anything--especially regarding our income--I'd let him have it. After all, he is supposed to be the family provider. How dare he ask me to help out with money matters. Making money, budgeting money, and saving money all fell under his department, and God help him if he didn't live up to my expectations. But he was still the lucky one because I was a clever, pretty little thing. And while his humility and patience did quite a bit to soften and change my heart over the first seven years, it seemed I was also changing him. While he was trying his best to build me up, I was unintentionally tearing him down. In those first years, I was mostly consumed with my own happiness, my own contentment, and my own emotional well-being. I was so focused on myself that I didn't notice that my husband was growing weary with his rotten lot in life. Now, naturally, no one would believe my husband is--or was--perfect. Of course he had/has his faults and errors. However, my problem during that period of my life was that I was only interested in focusing on his faults. Oh sure, I'd acknowledge that I could be a little moody--but after all, HE was the reason why I was moody in the first place. That's what a helpful wife does, right? It was my job to point out his errors and weaknesses and then analyze how it affected my physical, spiritual, or emotional well-being. After all, every Christian I knew declared that a godly husband was the head of the household and was responsible for the happiness, godliness, and well-being of the family. And I was to help him be that godly man. Then, one bright sunny morning I woke up and looked in the mirror and--shock and horror, how could it be?--I was ugly, older, and rather flabby and squishy. How did this happen? My husband didn't seem to notice (I didn't believe the liar), and even worse, when I took a closer look to see if he had been afflicted with the horrors of age, I was appalled. He was actually more handsome and sturdy. But looking closer I also noticed he was tired, beaten down, discouraged, defeated, and lonely. How? He had spent so many years with such a fun, clever, and pretty wife. But now, I was no longer pretty, and thinking harder on it, I realized that it had been a very long time since I had been fun or clever. It had been too time consuming to fit "fun and clever" into my daily routine of complaining, arguing, whining, mourning and "examining my hard life" (besides, if I acted happy then he'd get complacent). No, I was a squawking, squishy, angry old hen that was draining my once happy, patient and hard-working husband. I had believed a lie. The years that I had wasted were lost forever. The world (even the church!) had said that I needed to love myself before I could truly love others--and even though I would never have admitted to accepting that philosophy, my life seemed to reflect it. Much of my time was spent evaluating my 'emotional well-being'. I had been told that my husband was the head of the house and therefore it was his job to make me happy and secure. If I wasn't happy then he was doing something wrong. I had learned that a sour look, a forlorn sigh, the threat of bitterness or an outright raging tantrum would convince my husband to bow to my needs. And I had succeeded in generally getting my way. But what had I really achieved? I was growing more discontent and more demanding and had cultivated an attitude that made it nearly impossible for my husband to trust in me, rest in me, or count on me to help him. I had entered my marriage knowing that I was the better half, and now I sat on a very uncomfortable self-made throne--yes, I was the queen. Queen Sour-Bumsy of Watch-It-or-I'm-Liable-to-Get-Mad Land. What a horror it was to think that I was a drain on the man whom God had entrusted me to build up. And while my husband still felt obligated to meet my needs and determined to fulfill his vows despite my ugliness, I know the guy couldn't stand to be around me half the time. God was very gracious to me. I got a clue and I began praying. I did not want my husband to become a joyless, withdrawn, tired, emotionally drained man. Even more, I did not want to be the cause of that! Where I had tended to see my faults as minor, and saw my good traits as clearly outweighing the bad, I now resolved to see my ugliness for what it was. Ugly. Where I once eagle-eyed my man and focused on how he needed to change or meet my needs, I began considering that perhaps I should simply be focusing on how to meet his needs. After all, I claimed to be a Christian. Philippians 2:3 says, "Let nothing be done through strife or vainglory, but in lowliness of mind let each esteem other better than themselves." Does God mean that? Am I to esteem others better than myself? What if my little feelings get hurt? What if I get taken advantage of? What if that sends a message that his bad behavior is acceptable? God answers that in 1 Peter 3-6 where He says that "Sara obeyed Abraham, calling him lord: whose daughters ye are, as long as ye do well, and are not afraid with any amazement." Admittedly, I am no shining example of being a great wife, mother, or homeschool teacher (not to mention cook or driver--I'm a really rotten driver). I do not write this article as a "How To" piece. No, it's more of a "Why You Should Avoid Being a Dumb Doorknob" discourse. God help me, half the time I am still dumb as a doorknob. I am continually learning, failing, and having to repent. It is an incredible thing to bask in the glory of God's amazing grace. He is able to use the weak. And He is able to change hearts and make lovely things happen in the lives of those who trust Him. He is even able to turn a miserable mess into a royal blessing. Okay, now, if you are a naughty feminist and/or a saintly wife who read this even though you weren't invited, I'll REALLY have to ask you to stop reading at this point. Recently, my friend came over to my house and practically held me at gunpoint until I agreed to read a book that she claimed was life changing. When I started reading, I literally could not put it down. This book was a tremendously invigorating refresher course for me and re-established truths that are easy to forget. It is simply full of simple truths. At the risk of sounding like an infomercial, I urge every married (or engaged) woman who reads this article to pick up a copy of Created to Be His Helpmeet by Debi Pearl. If your marriage is perfect--get it, you'll be blessed. If your marriage is simply floundering along--get it, you'll be blessed. If your marriage is about to end--get it, it may turn your entire situation around. Many of us younger wives and mothers do not have mamas who have properly equipped us for marriage and motherhood. This book was written by a mama (and her grown-up married daughter) who really knows her stuff. Lastly, I must rejoice that I am so blessed. I am blessed because my husband and children are perfect. Perfect? Yes ... perfect for me. And I will be thankful for what God has given as He uses them to grow me. God bless you as you strive to teach your children (by example!) what is needed for a happy home. ------------------------ Jenefer Igarashi is the Senior Editor of The Old Schoolhouse Magazine for homeschoolers. Jenefer and her husband, Geoff, have six children ranging from ages 2-16, specifically 3 girls and 3 boys. To reach Jenefer for comment on this piece, email her at JenIg@TheHomeschoolMagazine.com. Copyright 2005. Used with permission. The Old Schoolhouse Magazine. Right now, 19 free gifts when you subscribe. www.TheHomeschoolMagazine.com