While each day at work
varies in obligation, assignments and degrees of pressure, there is always
something special about pulling into the driveway, gathering yourself and
entering your home. My feet crossing the threshold of the doorway ushers me
into a familiar scene. Michelle is often in the kitchen cooking dinner, and the
kids are frequently running around the house either half dressed or adorned as
a storm trooper or princess, yelling and laughing. At that point, my favorite
part of every day commences. After hugging and kissing the kids I return to the
kitchen and talk with Michelle about my day. The conversation typically
carries on throughout our meal. At the dinner table Michelle and I switch into
what can only be called parent language where we speak in code and spell out
words while the kids move their food around on the plate. It is inevitable they
will be “finished” with their meal before us and scurry along to their next adventure
while we remain to finish our dialogue. Eventually I am torn away to plunge
headlong into the world of a 7 year old and 6 year old where I become a
wrestler, punching bag, football player, soldier and occasionally the painter
of finger nails.

I love my kids in a way that
words are completely inadequate to offer description. I love my wife more. This love has gained deep roots through our talks. To be fair, I like to talk. I
love conversation. Sure I have my stereotypical “man days” in which I am
somewhat quiet, but overall a good conversation is more appealing to me than a
fun activity. Because of this I have been predisposed to open lines of
communication with my wife. Nonetheless, despite your predominate disposition,
words matter and the exchange of words can be salve to the wounded soul, a cool
breeze to the worn soul, a sunrise to the somber soul, and joy to the strained
soul. I understand this to be true when I preach or minister, but it is
equally true when I get home from a day of work. Most of my life I have heard
the “wisdom” that a preacher/pastor shouldn’t tell his spouse about everything
that happens in his life, especially church issues, to protect her heart from
being bitter or wounded. I was never very good at following this advice, nor am I necessarily an outright proponent of the advice.

In our younger years our
conversations about church life frequently morphed into complaining and often
increased the frustration in our hearts. At times our open communication was
our own worst enemy. However, in recent years something special has happened.
We have grown. Now, our open communication has created a place in our marriage
for us to help one another govern emotions, attitude, pride, anger and fear. My
wife has become a protector of my soul and I have become the same for her.
Because we have consistent, open conversation we have also given room to one
another to bring correction, to speak peace, to identify wrong thinking and to
serve as a gentle reminder of the heart of the Lord on a matter. As a follower of Jesus, I have the task of governing my soul. I can say Holy
Spirit uses my wife to speak frequently and deeply into my life and it has made
all the difference.