He wasn't about to budge. That much was evident.
I could see it in his eyes. Could tell by his body language. My husband was in his Brick-Wall-Mode and he wasn't moving.
All I'd done was ask him to change -- only change this one thing that bothered me greatly -- and yet he was rather closed to the idea. Completely closed, in fact. I'm not even sure if he was listening.
What to do now?
That's what I was left wondering. Because I sure wanted him to do it differently.
I figured I had options. I might resort to crying, yelling, whining, pouting or maybe some serious nagging -- although I'd have to admit I've never had much success with any of those approaches. Nor could I find any support for it in the Bible. No, I would have to come up with a better plan.
So with a big, heavy sigh, I began praying.
Not a stiff, formal prayer, but a pour-your-heart-out and a Lord-You-made-this-man-so-now-what? kind of prayer. I bet you know the kind I'm talking about.
And then I waited. Prayed some more. Waited and waited and waited.
[Read the rest of the article at The Time-Warp Wife.]