The apartment was clean and tidy. Laundry was done, and supper was nearly ready. He proceeded to the living room where he emptied his arms and rather than turning to greet me with a hug and a kiss, he opened his pack over the oriental rug and dumped his very smelly, muddy fatigues (battle dress uniforms) and dirty equipment.

Whoa! That got my attention.

“Yeah, it’s good to see you too. What kind of greeting was that?”

I was new at the welcome your husband home after a bad day thing, so I expected him to cut me some slack. Not so. I offered to hold dinner and fill the tub for him.

“I’ll do it myself.”

I let him. The meat was dry and the potatoes too salty, but he gobbled it down anyway. His mood didn’t improve and I pushed.

“What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“Nothing was wrong until you unloaded all that filth on my rug?”

No response. He didn’t seem to notice the ownership I applied to the rug, went into the bedroom, and closed the door. My dad would have given my mom a good argument. I knew how to argue, but I had no clue how to deal with pouting silence. When arguing through the bedroom door was ineffective, I backed off and let him sleep.

Okay. I’ll admit I didn’t let him sleep right away. I cleaned up his mess, making as much noise as possible. I wanted him to be able to hear me brushing the mud off every pair of pants and cleaning each piece of his gear. There was also some moaning and loud groaning involved. I calculated what my huge reward would be for my act of self-sacrifice. I was a young wife, and didn’t understand my actions didn’t meet the criteria of sacrifice.

To sacrifice means to give, with no expectations and with the understanding that no one, other than you, will pay the price for your good deeds. I wanted Jack to feel punished. (Excerpt from Life On Goliath’s Mountain)

That really happened. Wish I could say it happened to someone else, but it was me. I was willing to “fight fair,” but it takes two. And my offender, with one grand gesture, wanted to be done with the struggles of his day.

Wouldn’t it be great if everyone treated us the way we wanted to be treated while overlooking our lapses in judgment or restraint? We’ll never know.

But here’s the place we need to start:
Proverbs 15:1 says, “A soft answer turns away wrath, But a harsh word stirs up anger.”

Did you hear the harshness in my words? Did you sense the harshness in my actions? That was nearly 40 years ago. I memorized the words to Proverbs 15:1 as a child, but lately, I haven’t done such a great job of applying them to my daily interactions.

I think these few words of instruction deserve at least a week of repetition and effort. It’s my verse of the week. Join me?

We can talk about sacrifice versus wannabe martyrs some other time. I know some of you could teach me a thing or two, but it’s Friday night. I’ve had a rough week. And I can’t find an oriental rug to dump on.