I want to be a good wife. I want to be a godly wife. I try. Really, I do. Or maybe I don't, not hard enough. Regardless, I fall short, like way short. I get irritable. I lose my temper. I fail to keep the right groceries on hand. I miscommunicate. I misunderstand. I say mean things. I am a very fallen human being.
My husband points out that my expectations affect him, too. I don't mean them to, but they do. I get frustrated when he does not do what I expect him to do. I find myself irritated when he does not do things my way, or on my schedule. I'm not consciously forcing my perfectionist ideals on him, but they affect him nonetheless.
I have perfectionist ideas about marriage, too. We have a good marriage, I think, but I worry when we fight, when we get off. My education and career provide me with a lot of knowledge about what we should be doing, but there again, we are human, and it does not always happen. When things are hard, I can worry, and that does nothing good for either my husband or I.
I am not on the receiving end of living with a perfectionist spouse. That is my husband. I can tell you that as a struggling perfectionist, though, I benefit from a lot of grace. I benefit from gentle reminders about reality. I benefit from an understanding husband who knows that when I get bent out of shape, it is likely mostly about me, and less about him. Will I ever recover? No, probably not. At least not according to perfectionist standards. By God's grace, though, I hope I will keep growing. I hope we will keep growing, for God's honor and glory. Amen!
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