He had already put in a full day of work, leaving well before my eyes were ready to open for the day. His job that day had taken him out of town, and after his work day was done, he drove straight to his next project, which left me sitting at home barefoot and pregnant entertaining our nearly 1-year-old son on my own for yet another evening. Alone.
I knew what my next step had to be. I was planning in my head how I would pack a bag for my son and I, and we would drive out to my parents house and stay with them, assuming they would have us as house guests, indefinitely. It seemed like the best solution, according to the little voice in my head. The little voice that tells me that if my man really loved me he would put me before any project. He would see that I needed him at home helping raise our son worse. He would be giving me the time and attention I need each day to feel loved. That little voice had me so convinced that the only solution to the problem was giving up on my marriage. This is not what I had signed up for when I said, "I do". When I made that vow less than 3 years earlier to love my man, I had visions of taking family strolls around the neighborhood; sitting on the floor reading books to our son together; taking our baby to the park to play; spending time together. Not sitting at home jealous of a project that was stealing my man's time from me.
I was burning with anger, and my love tank was on 'E'.
Not that kind of love tank. Ew.
The love tank that Gary Chapman talked about in his book "The 5 Love Languages." We had read that book together, and established that my love language is quality time. Which would explain why I was overcome with jealousy towards a project. I was jealous that my man would give his few free hours each day to something other than me. I understand that makes me sound, well, a little immature or childish or whatever. But I need time to feel loved. (If you want to find out what you need to feel loved, read that book, you will not be disappointed.)
I remember when I was in about 5th grade and my teacher, Mr. B, would talk about how God was a jealous God. It was such a funny concept to me, because it had been hammered in my head that we weren't supposed to be jealous of others and what they have, yet this God who is over all and above all is jealous.
Exodus 20:4-6(NRS), states, "You shall not make for yourself an idol, whether in the form of anything that is in heaven above, or that is on the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, punishing children for the iniquity of parents, to the third and the fourth generation of those who reject me, but showing steadfast love to the thousandth generation of those who love me and keep my commandments."
If that passage isn't clear enough, flip a few pages to the right where Moses tell us in Deuteronomy 4:28, "For the Lord your God is a devouring fire, a jealous God."
God demands my exclusive loyalty and affection. Just as I was demanding that from my man. And all the sudden I understand what my teacher was talking about a few years ago. God wants all of me...my time, my attention, He wants to know that He matters to me. It seems to me that God has lots of love languages...quality time, acts of service, gifts, etc. And when I fail to show my love to Him in those ways he becomes jealous, just like I did.
And it makes sense, doesn't it?
Just as I was jealous of the time my man was giving to his project, and I was left feeling forgotten, so God feels when I fill my time with things other than him...Facebook, e-mail, movies, television, exercising, and the list goes on. One pretty awesome thing about God though is that he isn't tempted to pack His bags and call it quits. We are given that promise in Hebrews 13:5, "Never will I leave you, never will I forsake you."
Praise the Lord for that.
Please note that even if I would have gotten up enough courage to pack my bags and drive out to my parents, I am about 99.9% sure that my dad, in all his wisdom, would have told me to get my bottom back in my car, drive back home, and fight for my man and my marriage....dad's really do know best...
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