Is it insane to believe you can become physically ill from an argument with a loved one? Randy and I got into a rare fight (I use this word emphatically. Not a disagreement. Not a spat, squabble, or fuss. A fight.) the other night, and I honestly believe it's made me sick. I feel sick at heart, anyway. The odd thing might be that we had a beautiful, honest discussion preceeding the fight that was lovely.
The next day, as luck (I don't even believe in that word!) would have it, I got sent a "badge" on FB...the "Love & Respect Badge" that quoted Ephesians 5:33. "Nevertheless let every one of you in particular so love his wife as himself; and the wife see that she reverence her husband." I am choosing to try and forget the belligerent attitude I copped and the lack of respect I showed to my husband, and I wasn't exactly feeling Randy loved me as much as himself at that moment. Not only am I fogiving him, I'm forgiving myself.
The reason I bring this up is because I am shocked at the primal, base emotions that are inside me and sometimes rise to the top, and it honestly scares me. I grew up in a home that was a contradiction between peace and rage. I don't want to be the person I saw the other night; I don't want to be my mother. I LOVE my mother, but I don't want to be the woman she used to be toward me and my sister. I choose to be different. I hope if I ever have a baby, I would be a good mama. And just as important, a good wife.
Are you envisioning me biting Randy's arm, or throwing a china dish against the wall? Nothing that dramatic, I promise! We are actually quite placid, amiable individuals most of the time. :) Just a little forethought into how I act from now on will be in place. So, one horrible fight will last me a lifetime without the need to repeat it. I'm good!
Reconciled, I can breathe a sigh of relief. Love, once more, reigns in the Ayers' home!
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