Lessons Learned when Beauty is Too Much and my Husband makes me Mad

Glorious Snow Storm, you make me feel like I'm home.  Snow covered trees, fluffy white blankets spread as far as the eye can see- I like you.  I do.

This is winter after all and I prefer you to the dead- naked- dirty- ground- of- winter days without you.

Snow stacked deep and heavy on limbs is a glorious sight. The power and sheer volume of the white flakes that fall from the heavens and cling to whatever breaks their fall is captivating to me. It’s as if  the trees are holding on, happy to be catching the gift of cover and beauty on their otherwise naked, barren limbs.

My man is up early this morning like he is every Sunday morning, although this Sunday he’s not off to church; he’s out to snow blow us out of our home.  Icicles form on his eyebrows, breath I can see billows warmth out his mouth.

This is him caring for us. I like that.

 A lot.

But I got mad at him this morning.

 It all started innocent enough with me sitting  on the floor in our dining room  with hands wrapped around my favorite teal mug filled with french vanilla coffee with a touch of soy milk and Stevia, while my bare feet are sitting on top of the heater vent on the floor (if you've never done this you must). 

The heat kindly blows up and around my body wrapped snuggly in my robe. I sat there gazing out the window and watched. 

Watched my husband do his manly thing while I felt loved, cared for and tickled like a little girl at the wonder of 10 inches of white fluffy snow that graced the ground.

He’s in the cold-working and sweating.  I’m in the house-warm and happy. I’m drinking coffee… and have a mixture of cinnamon, nutmeg, honey and lemon smeared on my face, and a combo of Greek yogurt, banana and olive oil lathered sloppy in my graying- too- soon hair.

 I kid you not.  

And no, I will not be posting pictures of that.

Look, I’m 41; we've been married 21 years. This girl needs some beauty treatments. (I figure it took Queen Esther a full year of beauty treatments before she was ready to meet the King, so I'm guessing my man deserves a day or two a month of me doing a little beautifying. Right?)  In case you get the idea that I'm some kind of wimpy princess, I did entertain the notion of bundling up to help him shovel… but I got over that rather quickly.  We were both perfectly content in our marital roles this morning. Besides, I didn't want to steal his manhood from him and I know he likes it when I watch him work.

 Men just do.

 Although this morning I ducked when he looked my way. I didn't want to freak him out with the goop on my face and all. (Oh, he’s seen it before but somehow on this beautiful morning I just didn’t want that version of me to be the first one he saw.)  It may have been a beauty treatment, but girlfriend, you know it’s anything but pretty when you're wearing things that belong in your stomach on your face.

Ok, sorry, back to my morning and why I got mad… (Those of you who call my husband your pastor are dying to know the details I just know it…)

I snuggled up in this perfect winter wonderland morning in my over stuffed comfy chair (after washing bits of nutmeg embedded deep into the wrinkles on my face and attempting to comb out  mashed up brown banana chunks caked in my hair- Whew, it’s a lot of work to be a girl.) There I was enjoying the view out our sunroom window when I barely spot him... this protector, provider of our family now tromping through nearly a foot of snow into the back acre of our yard. 

What is he doing? He’s got a rake. No, he’s not! Tell me he’s not going to…

See you have to know my man. He is detailed. 

Very detailed. He is thorough. Like when he brushes off his car he brushes off every inch of the car. Careful to not miss a flake.  Me on the other hand?  You know the car driving down the road with a windshield coated in ice with a sliver just big enough to barely see out of? Well, that'd be me.  I just don’t worry about details. My man does.

So here I am sitting in my chair enjoying the view and when I see him! I’m thinking- 

Oh, baby find something else to do! Don’t go detailing the trees for crying out loud.  

Please not the trees.

I say it out loud though there is no use, he can’t hear me.  I calculate the time it would likely take me to hunt down my boots in my unorganized shoe pile disaster and quickly come to the conclusion that I don’t have time to even haphazardly bundle up and chase this determined man down through a foot of snow to stop him. So I watch him while grimacing instead.  He raises the rake and has the audacity to bang on the beautiful trees in an attempt to remove the snow from those weighed down living breathing creatures.  

He’s making me mad! Doesn't he know he is ruining my view? I like the trees covered in snow. They might be weighed down and bent over but I like that look on them!  He’s taking away the splendor of the morning, the wonder of the moment, the enjoyment of the season.  Stop it!

He goes from tree to tree doing this relieving- this lifting of burdens. 

 I watch as he stands under the center of some smaller trees that we've carefully planted and gently but firmly shakes the trunk. The snow falls in clumps on top of him, on his face, down the back of his coat. He doesn't seem to mind. As long as the snow falls off he keeps shaking the tree free.  Then something happens to me…

My frustration turns to awe. I finally see his heart. I understand his motives.

I appreciate his care. I respect his work.

I saw beauty; my husband saw danger.

We've lost a few trees this way in years past. He knows. He remembers. I forgot. 

I only see the beauty, the marvel of it all. The protector of this home, the caretaker of this acre of ground sees a potential life destroying problem.

There is too much snow. There is too much beauty.

He wonders how long the limbs can withstand the weight before they snap. How long can one carry a burden before they break.

 He sees and thinks beyond the moment, beyond what the eye takes pleasure in. 

And he does something.

I was reminded of some valuable lessons this morning as I observed my man doing his detailing thing in my back yard with those beautiful trees.

#1. What is beautiful can also be deceptive. What seems pleasing to the eye and desirable to the flesh can destroy us. Just because it’s pretty doesn't mean it’s good. 

Just because we like the look of it or taste of it doesn't mean we should keep it, eat it or have it.  

 #2.Too much beauty is dangerous. Too much of a good thing is simply too much. You know, the ‘overs’. Over- indulging, over- spending, over- eating, over- iphone-ing, over- sleeping, over- sharing.  These things in and of themselves are good but get too much and it can destroy. I personally tend to be over responsible. Being responsible is good. It’s necessary. I am a mother to 3 teenagers. I am responsible for them. I am a daughter, a friend, a health coach, a pastor’s wife, a speaker, a bible teacher, a neighbor, a sister, a homemaker… but my tendency is to carry too much of a burden for the people I love and care about. This can hinder me- this robs me of my peace and causes anxiety.  It’s my strength taken to an extreme.

This turns what’s beautiful about me into what’s dangerous within me.

#3. God is a faithful caretaker of his creation. He is faithful to tend to our ‘branches’ and relieve our burdens. Not only does he cut off branches in me that bear no fruit. He also relieves the parts of me that are weighed down with heavy burdens. Burdens that are about to snap me in two. Concerns that are about to break my heart. He sees. He comes, stands under me, grabs a hold and with his strong loving arms shakes me off-all the access-all the weight. So I can stand tall again. So I don't have to fear the pressure. So I don't have to grit my teeth, hold on for dear life and hope I make it till  the storm passes or the seasons change.  Jesus said “Cast your cares upon me, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light and you will find rest for your souls.” 

I like that. I need that.

Thanks to my man, our trees have found some rest and relief today. No need to worry about them dying, breaking, snapping in two during this snow storm.  They may not look as beautiful now as I thought they looked a few hours ago with huge mounds of white snowflakes piled deep on their limbs. But I see it now, the difference between the trees in our neighbors yard still bent over, still burdened by the weight... and the one that actually snapped in two while I was writing this.

I actually feel happy for our less burdened trees. They stand tall. They fear not. They will bear fruit this spring. Their leaves will bud in a few short months. Unharmed by the storms of the winter… because the caretaker and protector of this acre of soil could see what I was incapable of seeing this morning but I clearly see now… 

God cares so much about producing beauty in our lives that he acts on our behalf and even though the casual onlooker might think He is removing beauty, he is actually  faithfully, carefully preserving it.

Let Him.