How epic is this battle?

I love my husband, but he can be frustrating. One major frustration is that he claims he doesn’t hear me. I haven’t had any luck finding one of these in stores, but I’ll keep looking…

old time ear trumpets

But seriously, he’s too young to be losing his hearing. Personally, I think he’s distracted. He’s a perpetual multi-tasker. That’s nice for him, getting multiple things done at once, but nothing is getting his full attention… not even me. I often direct my anger at this member of our family when I can’t get his attention…

iphone-big

…though he insists he’s still listening. Tonight as he played on his iPhone while waiting for the movie to begin, I not-so-subtly asked when date night was. On date night, Brian’s phone is not invited. Don’t think he got the hint.

I keep hearing from other wives that their men develop selective hearing throughout marriage. I am hoping this is not the case, though Brian tends to hear all comments about food and technology and sex. Interesting. 

Sigh.

I guess I’m wondering if this is something we can work out, or if this is a battle we will fight until the end.

i-cant-hear-you_1

What can I do?

I want to fight her battles for her.

It’s not a good thing– that statement is a confession.

It’s no secret that we have had a lot thrown at us in the last 5 weeks. Some of these events are truly out of our control, some of them are the result of our decisions, and all of them have given us a better understanding of what real marriage is like.

I’ve been blessed, if the truth be told. For my first thirty years, I did not see much suffering or real fear for the future. I did stupid things and I rebelled against what I knew was true, but Providence saw me through it all unscathed. In the last 4 years I’ve had to deal with all sorts of things I never had to before. The sickness and death of both my grandfathers, professional doubts and struggle, and a return to faith. I’ve learned so much in that time that prepared me for this marriage. But not enough.

I don’t like to see Lindsey in pain, or in conflict, or under stress. I just flat-out don’t like it. So my response is to try to fix it. When she is struggling, I want to clean it up for her. When she is hurting, I want to heal her. When she is treated unfairly I want to seek justice. But I have found out, most of the time I cannot actually do any of that.

It’s not that I can’t try, because I have. I can take care of her, I can see that her needs are met, and I can help her in dealing with anything. But I can’t fight her battles. I can’t wage war every time she is wronged. I can’t address professional slights. I can’t rush to her side and defend her every time. I simply cannot keep her from disappointment or harm for the rest of her life.

But I try protect her as best I can. I can listen. I can support her. I can pray with her and for her.

It’s been a tough time learning that lesson. But it’s drawing me to an important conclusion: I’ve learned to trust God with the other things in my life, and this should not be any different. Right now, that’s just not the easiest thing to do.