This is a post about listening.
I told Tim the other night that I had a dream that we saw a bear and Tim told me not to move and I moved and it ate me. #runonsentence
Last year, Tim started watching the Walking Dead, and after one particularly gruesome episode, he calmly greeted me at the door with the following information...
He said, "New family rule. When I say, 'Shoot!', you shoot. When I say, 'Run!', You run."
(I have no idea what the punctuation should look like in that sentence, but I will give you five dollars if you can figure it out).
You see, by now, Tim knows that I need the reminder. Listen. Shoot. Run. Repeat.
So. With that being said, my prayer has been that I will listen to Tim when I am supposed to listen. I'm sure that's the most "repressed-1950's-housewife" statement you've heard all week, but the truth is, I can give Tim a run for his money, and we both know it.
For some reason, I've gotten into the habit of thinking that I just know better than he does, and that, my friends...
My prayer has also been that I will just listen whenever I am supposed to listen, in general. Cause I think that's a pretty good habit to get into. #idowhatiwant #justkidding
Uh. I'm workin' on it.
There are so so so many deeper issues I'd love to address...honor...respect...the way our love for Christ is mirrored in our marriages and how our unwillingness to listen reflects that...but... I don't know about you all, but right now, my clock reads 10:36 PM. At night, folks.
So. Feel free to add to the topic in the comments. Seriously. Tell me all about it.
In closing, here we are at a High School Football Game last weekend. This was about 6 minutes before it absolutely dumped rain on us. Tim kept telling me that the radar was calling for tons of rain. Do you think I listened?
Love and don't move,