Slap the stupid out of me.

Dear Readers:
I’m mad. I mean, REALLY MAD. In fact-I’m going to use a phrase I never use. I’m spit-fire MAD. And here’s why:

We, as crazy, wordy humans, say a lot of things. Extreme things: never, always, I’ll just die.

Ambiguous things: I dunno, maybe, kinda, yep.

Things to each other that we don’t honor: I will love you forever, I could never be mad at you.

And we text and email and IM all these words back and forth to each other. And before you know it, we mix the most sacred of words with the most mundane of all conversations.

I love you.
I love those shoes.

Forever, I’m yours.
I haven’t seen you, in like, forever.

I will marry you.
This sandwich married together perfectly the spicy mustard with the pastrami. 

Which leads us into devaluing what we say and what we’ve commit to.

 


Be mine, for all time.
He used to be mine. 

Till death do us part.
I was going to kill him if we had to stay together.

He makes me so happy.
We weren’t happy anymore.  

 

I’m an observer. I enjoy watching as marriages, relationships and friendships begin.
The first time a conversation is sparked leaves each party feeling elated and renewed. Weeks later, there is still so much to learn about that person and neither one could imagine life without the other. Your old friends think that you’re ignoring them, and to be perfectly honest-you don’t care.
Months roll on by and that person is maybe less of a priority, but still high on the list. You quit planning your entire day around them and start to schedule them in.
Years roll by and you find yourself either without the relationship intact any longer, or it’s down on the totem pole of priority. After all, you’ve got to live your life.

 


Which leads me to asking, “What happened?” Why is the “spark” out? Why does that once intriguing friend now bore you? Why is the person you just couldn’t get enough of, now-get on your every last nerve?

 

We are a finicky race, us humans. We allow our minds, our thoughts, our eyes to wander when something prettier, newer, skinnier, less complicated comes along.
A decent car now looks like a jalopy when parked next to that brand new, never driven Mercedes.
A nice laptop suddenly pales in comparison to that fancy new one at the Apple Store.
When you visit your boss’ house, your house suddenly seems small, out of date and embarrassing.

 


And your husband becomes commonplace and unappealing as you read “50 Shades of Gray” (for the record, I have never read this book-but I’ve heard enough talk about it to know what is up, ladies).

The socks left by him at the foot of the bed-for days-start to get under your skin. I mean, can’t he put those in the basket?!
The little tiny hairs from him shaving and not properly rinsing out the sink grate on your nerves. I just cleaned that!
He chooses just the most inopportune time to become amorous. I just ate pasta. Really?!

 


And then, along comes this guy. And he’s perfect. And interesting. And funny.
And he smells great and opens the door for you and he knows just what questions to ask and when to ask them and he moves the hair off your face and tucks it behind your ear just right and he thinks you’re awesome and, and, and…
And his socks would never bother you and he never farts and you know he’s a clean freak, just like you, and, and, and…

So you entertain the thought of him. And you open up your facebook and you “friend” him. And you start to message him. And you keep it from your husband.

And suddenly, your “forever” is more like, “when it’s convenient and it still makes me happy.” Before long, your “forever” is over. And that is what is making me spit-fire MAD.

And you look back on it and wonder when it started to go all wrong. It went wrong way before dating and marriage and facebook. It went wrong the first time you compared what you had to what someone else had-and you were ungrateful.

I’ve done it. My scratched up, 280,00 mile van is embarrassing surrounded by brand new Lexus’, Mercedes and BMW’s in the parking lot of where I occasionally work. My clothes have holes in them. I dress vintage because it’s cute, but mainly due to lack of advertising funds. You better believe I’m comparing my TJ Maxx purse to that women’s $1,500 Prada bag. I’m finicky. I compare and judge and evaluate.

And, I’m ungrateful.

And that is what makes me MAD. So, when you see me do it-slap me. Slap the stupid right out of me. Remind me that I’m being ungrateful and its a slippery slope from cars to clothes to shoes to husbands.

I believe love is forever and it is most certainly worth fighting for. I believe the “till death do us part”. I believe in what I said at the altar, what God has said about marriage and I want to be grateful-every day-for that. So, dear readers: you have my permission to slap me and get all spit-fire MAD at me if I start to slip.

Hold me to it.

written by

for the entire world. Deal with it.
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3 Responses to "Slap the stupid out of me."

  1. misty says:

    Great message and reminder, especially for us gals. It is so easy to fall into the “comparing” trap and it is a miserable and embarrassing place to be. I am often grateful for some of my darkest and toughest life experiences because those have been the times when I’ve realized just how great my blessings truly are…I always end up feeling silly for being ungrateful and complaining.

    Reply
    • Rebekah says:

      Misty-
      Thanks for taking the time to comment! And thank you for sharing your thoughts. I really appreciate it. I agree that at the darkest times are usually the ones where we grow. I too, end up feeling silly and ungrateful once I’m on the other side. If only I would learn!

      Reply
  2. Jenni says:

    You are so right, Rebekah! It’s so easy to become ungrateful, thankless, discontent with all the amazing blessings God has so richly given us. Thank you for saying it aloud and reminding us that what we have is what God wants us to have. Perhaps one day we will replace that old clunker with something prettier or nicer, but for my family, it will be because God allows it! I remind myself often that my husband is perfect for me–God hand-chose him for me, just as I asked Him to! Another man might seem more handsome or perfect, etc., but no matter who it is, he’s not the man God chose for me.

    Keep up the great writing. I’d love to hear more!

    Reply

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