by James Ford
I have a confession to make.
I act like a spoiled baby when I'm sick. I whine and moan. I check my temperature every 30 minutes. I park myself in front of the television and expect my wife, Merry, to wait on me hand and foot. Never mind what plans she has for the evening—when I'm sick, her job is to take care of me.
But what happens when the roles are reversed, and she's stuck in bed with nausea, or vertigo, or a sinus infection?
I act like a spoiled baby. I whine and pout. I glare at her. How dare she get sick? Doesn't she know what plans I have? Doesn't she realize the pressure she's placing on me?
At some point during the evening, God convicts me of my selfishness, and I realize that I need to make a choice: Am I going to see Merry as my enemy? Or will I recognize again that God has given her to me as a gift … and stop moaning just because that gift has a fever and can't cook dinner?
You may not realize it, but you make the same choice on a regular basis. The choice confronts you when you argue … or when your spouse doesn't respond to your romantic overtures … or when you must decide who puts the kids to bed at night … or when you want to bake a batch of cookies and your spouse makes you feel guilty about your weight. Is my mate my enemy? Or a gift from God?
