I’m not a complainer. Maybe that’s not quite true. But I don’t complain all the time, just most of the time. Look at it this way. On a really good day, there are whole minutes when I don’t complain at all. Pretty impressive record, if I do say so myself.
This morning as I worked on a devotion for my book for parents of sick and dying kids, God kept me from complaining about my husband. Not that I complain about him all the time, and the devotion I wrote this morning should boost my record.
This devotion was for separated and divorced parents who need to lay aside their differences and communicate with each other for the sake of their sick child. Thankfully, a divorced mom was completely honest about the struggles she and her former husband had when their son battled leukemia. Because of her, I was able to share a story and give some advice to help other parents in a similar situation.
Hearing her family’s story and writing about it made me thankful for my husband. He endured with great patience my emotional, hormonal rants after Allen was born and flown away for surgery. Sometimes as I look back, I’m amazed our marriage held together. But it did, mostly because of his love and patience and forgiveness.
That realization put the kibosh on my complaining, least for today. But I’ll need another reminder tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that. Good thing Hiram’s still a loving, patient and forgiving man. Because of him our marriage will last.
