as it went out the window. I like to say that’s not my problem, but it’s my problem too. I’m a project-oriented man. I line up projects every day; I try to do everything in my life as fast as I can do it. Now I didn’t lay in the crib and say, “I just want to be project-oriented!” No, I didn’t say that. I was wired this way. I’m married to a methodical woman. I’m married to a woman who mistakenly thinks it’s better to do one thing with excellence than a whole bunch of things in a day--I can’t relate to that. And one of the things that Luella and I have, years ago, decided to do--that we would go to bed at the same time in the evening so we could have that final moment of sanity as a couple before we go off to sleep. I love to fall asleep to the sound of my wife’s voice. (It took you a while.) You know, I’ll be saying words, laying there next to her, and then its, “Uhh- hmm! Uhh-hmm!” And then it’s, “Ckckckckc,” and I’m gone. Well, it’s about time for us to go to bed, and I walk up through the kitchen, and Luella’s got there--she’s got a bucket and a brush, and she’s about to scrub the kitchen floor. Now, I ought to be thankful! But I’m immediately irritated because I want us to go to bed together, and I know how slowly she does things. In that moment, I want to turn her into me. And the brush she’s holding is a toothbrush. I’m thinking, “She’s not going to be in bed for six years because she’s noticed the grout in between the tiles is dirty, and she’s going to scrub it.” If I was going to clean the kitchen floor, I would have a six-foot brush--voomp-voomp-voomp--Done! Where, in your marriage, are you cursing the Creator and telling yourself you would have been a better creator? You see, that never results in the esteem and honor of your spouse; it never results in unity, and understanding, and love. It’s deeply hurtful for you to reject me for choices I didn’t make. I’ve heard the craziest things. I’ve heard men say, “Every time my wife gets excited when she’s talking, her voice is so screechy-ahhe eeeei. Well, what is she supposed to do about that? I had a wife who said, “I can barely go out to eat with my husband because he’s got a short upper lip, and he chews like this- chchchchchchchchch.” I mean, well, he didn’t go to the lip store. Give me the short ones; I want plenty of teeth to show.” Are you nuts? You see, here is the point--You will never treat your spouse with esteem and respect, forming a marriage of unity, and understanding, and love, if you curse the work of the Creator, if you think that you would have been a better creator than the Creator. But that’s not all. You must also worship God as Sovereign. This is your spouse’s story. You don’t just marry the present person. You really married everything that makes up the story of that person. Now, the Bible tells us, Acts 17, that God determines the exact place where we will live and the exact length of our days. That means God has written your story; it means God chooses the exact address where you now live. That means that God has ruled over all of the situations, all of the locations, all of the culture, all of the relationships that have formed the interest, and the instincts, and the taste, and the way of doing things of this person. I mean, my story is just an amazing example of that. Luella was raised in the exotic environs of Placetas, Cuba. I was raised in the white bread boredom of Toledo, Ohio. Whenever I mention Toledo, people say, “We drove through there once.” I don’t think anybody has ever stopped. And God wove our stories together so it’s almost crazy. So at a certain point in time, Luella and Paul are standing next to one another in a lunch line in college. For me, it was love at first sight. For Luella, it was first sight. I have to tell you about the first time I decided to tell Luella that I loved her. I thought I was deeply, fully in love, and I was waiting for that particular beautiful moment to say those life-changing words. I thought I’d hear birds sing, violins play. It came to one night, I thought, “This is the right moment.” I looked her in the eyes, and I said, “Luella, I love you!” She said, “You what? You love me? What do you know about love? Don’t ever say that to me again!” I heard birds dying, violins breaking. She was really quite right--I was the deeply mature age of 17. I knew little about love.
Transcript: Session 9
WHAT DID YOU EXPECT?
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