A change in *SEE*nery

Last week, my husband and I retreated to the Texas Hill Country.  Compared to our city surroundings, it was certainly a change in scenery.

068

138

126

bluebonnets 2

And the colorful change was welcomed heartily.

There’s another panoramic alteration not so easily embraced.

The one instigated internally.

Let me explain.

On any given day, I can pass through our bedroom and notice two lumps under the covers of our neatly made bed.  Sheets pulled tightly, quilted bedspread placed perfectly, pillows aligned just so.  But, near the footboard, foreign mounds.  Invaders on mission to destroy perfection.

My husband’s socks.  They find their way off his feet during the night and hide until morning.  After the bedding is put back into its place, they arise.  And to remove them means un-making the bed because they thrive right near the bottom edge of the mattress.

For years, these rascals got the best of my morning.  Frustrated and intolerant of their shenanigans.  Yet, of course, my anger was targeted at the one who wore the socks.

Until the day I heard the story of a lonely heart.  The testimony of a widow.

Having recently lost her husband, the love of her days, she shared her life with a group of women gathered in Dry Creek, Louisiana.  I sat among those ladies.  Eager to draw closer to Christ.

And I listened.  Ears open to the words which changed my vision.

Emotions still raw, she tenderly expressed the ways she missed her husband.

And the words which pricked my heart.

I miss his laundry.

I miss picking up his dirty clothes.

Because having his laundry lying on the floor would mean he’s still here.

My mind shifted quickly.  I could see my husband’s clothes on the floor.  And hear my complaining.  I saw his socks taunting me from under the bedspread.  And felt my frustration.

Yet, this widow would be giddy to walk into her home that afternoon and find a sign her husband was alive.  Even a pile of dirty laundry he’d worn that day.

A new pair of spectacles were provided on a November afternoon in Dry Creek for this blurred sight of mine.

And now, even this morning, I pass beside our bed and smile.  The lumps give me joy.  Often, reaching down and gently tapping each one, I find peace.

Because those socks under those covers mean my husband slept beside me last night.

And I won’t take that for granted.

With the posture of my heart realigning, my vision is corrected.

I have a change in SEEnery.

bb2

About Cristal

Living life fully as the wife of one, a mother of two and follower of The One.
This entry was posted in Faith, Family, Thanks Living and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

22 Responses to A change in *SEE*nery

  1. April L Lyon says:

    Beautiful! Beautiful pictures, Beautiful words, Beautiful thoughts… thank you for sharing. I hope to see my SEEnery in new light as well!

  2. Desiray says:

    I can so relate to the bed I make the bed like those in the miltary because my father was in the military and so I knew how to make a bed, by hubby on the other hand will leave lumps. And it use to frustrated me to the point I told him not make the bed. But after a year of that he told me he said Desi I am not going to make it as perfect as you do..so except the way I do. at least I am willing to make the bed..talk about a cold glass of water hitting you in the face, it made me feel so bad because I had no idea I was expecting him to do it perfectly like me.

    I love the story you shared about the old woman because at least I do have a husband who loves me and willing to do work around the house, a husband who comes directly home from work, a husband that sleeps in the same bed with me every night. And I don’t have to worry about where he is or what he’s doing…often times we forget how blessed we really are until we either hear someone else story or it brought to our attention…

    Thanks for sharing this…

    • Cristal says:

      I agree completely. As I’ve had several friends go through divorce, I am finding myself more grateful for what some might consider annoying habits of a husband. Those annoyances would be blessings to many women! (By the way, my father was also in the military and also taught me how to make a bed!) 🙂

  3. Naphtali says:

    Socks! that’s funny….I have that problem with dryer cloths. They end up everywhere. I tell my husband they are gifts when he finds them at work falling out of his pants.

    • Cristal says:

      I laughed out loud when I thought about your husband walking around with a “gift” hanging from the bottom of his pants at work!

      Thank you for the smile, today. 😉

  4. kthroyal says:

    Good word Cristal. A reminder for us men too. I can get so bent out of shape about things that I will probably long for one day when my kids are grown or my spouse is gone.

    • Cristal says:

      Brother Keith, it was Mrs. Pam’s mom who shared this testimony. So, it’s been a while. But I still often think (when annoyed at something silly), “I’ll miss that one day.” It changes my perspective completely. One of my biggest pet peeves used to be waking up to dirty dishes (I fall asleep before anyone else & my crew eats snacks late at night). Now, I am able to walk into a messy kitchen thankful for a family. Can you imagine how many lonely folks would find joy in a sink full of loved ones’ dishes?

  5. dschondog says:

    Dear Cristal,

    Wow
    A new pair of spectacles were provided on a November afternoon in Dry Creek for this blurred sight of mine.
    He is working in your life on your particular issues as He is working in mine with my particular issues. He certainly knows us, doesn’t He?

    I was reminded of a story in one of Ann Landers’ old newspaper columns of an old woman who was bored hearing her husband’s stories of the cows every night when he got done in the barn. Then he passed away and she missed his stories saying, “I just wish Jacob would come to the table and tell me about the cows again.”

    This is such a good post. Thank you, Cristal,
    Dawn

    • Cristal says:

      Okay, Dawn. You have me crying now. I hadn’t thought of that. The stories. Daily hearing my husband tell his stories of the kids at school, football practice and the perks of the Slot-T offense. I have taken that for granted. And you just shed more light on my dim vision. Thank you for always raising the bar.

      Much love,
      Cristal

  6. abracknell says:

    I needed this today, thank you for sharing!

  7. Vince Chough says:

    Funny how dirty socks can be transformed into something beautiful by that thing we call love.

    • Cristal says:

      It is all about our perspective, right? And, oh how often, is my vision short-sighted and dim! Praise God for teaching me to see things the way He sees them.

  8. Jana says:

    Thank you for this beautiful, poignant encouragement to treasure those we love. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, and your post was just one more reminder to show me how much I have, how very blessed I am. I always appreciate your honesty and perspective, Cristal.

    PS Love your photos! Our beautiful bluebonnets just started blooming last week. They make this Texas girl’s heart sing God’s praises.

    • Cristal says:

      Thank you, Jana. I find myself correcting my children for complaining then realize (when I’m corrected by my Father) that I fail to count my blessings. And, yes, Texas bluebonnets are amazingly beautiful!

  9. Tresta says:

    Oh, I am thankful for the socks today sister. Thank you so much for the heart-opening.

  10. Oh how I love delphiniums, you captured them beautifully. And this truth, to see things with a grateful heart, even annoying socks at the end of the bed. Just love that story and the perspective it brings.

  11. Just stopping by to catch up on some of your latest posts. This one is so great for me as I face a Friday night of my husband writing a paper and me doing laundry. 😉

Your comments are treasured

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s