I was folding socks this morning and thinking about gratitude, or ingratitude, more accurately. I don’t know about your husband, but mine always leaves his socks inside out. (Is mine weird, or just normal?) After thirty-seven years, he does fairly well getting them in the hamper. I remember the days when it was the bedroom floor, the bathroom floor, or wherever.
They are still inside out though, and when he wears long johns (October to April), they are usually up in the leg somewhere. That’s wonderful, they don’t even get dry in the drier all tucked up there like that, so I pull them out and turn them rightside out.
What’s a woman’s first impulse? Gripe, grumble, and complain about men in general, and her man, specifically. I am so spiritual I never do that, right? Wrong!
But, I have grown to the point of quickly recognizing a wrong attitude that steals my joy. So I turn socks right side out while thanking God for this man who has given me beautiful children, who has come home every night, who has encouraged me to follow my dreams, who shares his home, his hard earned money, his entire life with me because, however inadequately he says it, he loves me. Then I think of the battles he faces each day, and I pray for him.
Funny how the chores have gotten done so quickly and easily with an attitude of praise! Whosoever things are lovely, think on these things.