Jesus Told Me to Cook Dinner

You know what makes you feel like the worst person ever? When you feel like you’re knocking this whole marriage thing out of the park and then watching it all crumble right before your eyes in about 5 minutes in the student ministry room at church. No, really.

The Wednesday Night Fiasco

So like usual, I got there early and was trying to help. The microphone started feeding back, and I couldn’t get it to stop for like 3 seconds. John made this awful face that was clearly about the feedback, but in my mind, that disgusted face was about me not doing something perfectly. So I jump from happy and well-caffeinated to “well excuse me for breathing!” in about 2.1 seconds, and it was ON.

Guys. I was so mad that I actually just left. I called my friend on the way home and told her all about how John was being a jerk and I was just trying to be helpful and the whole Jordan pity party of it all. So since he didn’t think I was being helpful enough, I was going to show him by just leaving and going home to eat Cheetos and watch Netflix. It was going to be a good night for me, and I was going to let him have it later when he came home. Brilliant plan, right?

Cheetos + Jesus

So I killed half of a bag of Puffy Cheetos and was an episode into How I Met Your Mother when I started thinking about dinner. My first thought was “I’m not cooking anything, and he can just figure something out when he gets home. That’ll show him!” I’m going to say it was Jesus because there wasn’t any part of me that wanted to be helpful, but I suddenly just felt like I was supposed to cook a nice dinner for John. I know, it sounds stupid. It’s just dinner. But I knew that’s what I was supposed to do. I didn’t want to do it, but I caved and did it.

John and I had stocked up at Trader Joe’s in Tallahassee a few weeks ago, so I rummaged through the freezer. I pulled out rosemary steak tips and frozen broccoli, and I had a potato in the pantry. It was close enough to fancy and didn’t require a grocery trip. Good enough. I put some music on and started cooking, and I noticed that I was less and less angry. When I knew that church would be wrapping up, I sent John a text that just said “I’m sorry. I cooked dinner.” John finally made it home, and I just looked at him and said “Jesus told me to cook you dinner”. Loving, right?

Winning the Argument

So here’s the point that I finally came to: he had a long day, and he didn’t need me and my “revenge” for a look that didn’t have anything to do with me making it worse. I could have come home, pouted, and let him eat cereal for dinner. He could have come home still mad at me for freaking out like I did. Would either of us actually “win” anything by dragging it out? No. We probably would have had a crappy night being passive aggressive instead of a fun night watching a movie together. 

We don’t have a perfect marriage by any means, but we love each other and we’re on the same team. When your teammate is having a bad game, you step in and pick up the slack, not yell at them for sucking today. I mean, you can do that, but that doesn’t help the situation at all. Me cooking dinner for John was a way to make his day easier, and at the end of the day, that should always be my goal as his wife.

So whether you need to cook dinner or pick up a pair of socks that’s on the floor for the 115th time or bring your significant other coffee, try to do something to make their life easier today without saying anything about it. When you do that regularly, not only does it make their life easier, but it makes yours easier too. Husbands, I guarantee that you will make your wife’s day if you randomly clean something. Better yet, surprise her with something – even something super small that costs less than $5. I’m just saying, there’s a 100% chance that my mood will improve if John shows up at the house with a surprise bag of Puffy Cheetos. 

Update: John came home with Puffy Cheetos AND coffee. It’s going to be a good day!

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