The Way to a Woman’s Heart.

For the first twelve years of our marriage, Jonathan and I did almost everything together. Sure we sometimes had separate jobs, and I didn’t usually join him when he went hunting (mostly because I had a bad habit of startling enormous bucks through unexpected and unnecessary use of the Primos Doe Bleat); but for the most part we were together so often that people referred to us as one person named JonathanandCoralie. This also extended into hospitality. We would plan the meal together, often shop together, cook together and clean up the house together. He had his responsibilities and I had mine, but we faced it down together.

All of that began to shift when the mackerdoodle arrived, but it really changed completely when the cheesedoodle was born and I became a full time, stay at homemaker while Jonathan worked 60+ hours at two Chick-fil-As waiting to come to seminary. That was when I learned to love cooking, when I began to discover the joys (and frustrations) of managing a household and when my home became my career instead of a tool for the purpose of shelter and meeting people.

Those habits, once developed (even as poorly as I have) are hard to shake. Three plus years later and I am once again entering the work force, but now, when the task list comes up and Jonathan steps in to help, my response has defaulted to, “Oh. Just let me do that.”  The problem is, I can’t do it all, and I shouldn’t expect myself to do so.

Today I came home from grocery shopping to find my husband mopping my kitchen floor. On his hands and knees just to see if that got things cleaner than my steam mop. If there is anything more appealing than that, I would like to know it; and I feel the need to point out here that he is taken.

I realized today that the Lord gave us a firm foundation of being in life and marriage together; three kids and a brief sojourn through seminary doesn’t make that less true, it makes it more important. This afternoon my husband found out that the way to my heart may just be through a little warm soapy water and elbow grease; and I was reminded of the days, not that long ago – and a lifetime ago – when my husband and I did almost everything together.


About Coralie

After 11 years of infertility, I am now a mother to three, a wife of a Presbyterian (ARP) preacher and a struggling homemaker. Welcome to my little corner of the net. Kick off your shoes, put your feet up and join the conversation. View all posts by Coralie

2 responses to “The Way to a Woman’s Heart.

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