Your Husband Can't Read Your Mind

I have only been married a year and 7 months. But in this short amount of time I 

have learned so much. So much about myself, my husband, marriage, life, liberty, 

and the pursuit of happiness. Maybe not quite that far. But the biggest thing I have 

learned in this time is, simply put: Men can’t read minds. Whoa. Mind=blown. This 

message just got driven home this past weekend.

See, I have been extremely busy lately and my husband has been going above and 

beyond helping pick up the slack I have been leaving behind me. But somehow on 

Sunday afternoon all that got washed down the drain. I got home from church 

before he did and I started cleaning the house for small group. I started noticing the 

recycling wasn’t in the bin, the house hadn’t been swept, the bed wasn’t made. Etc, 

etc. So, obviously, I got really annoyed that he hadn’t done these things. 

Let me answer what you may be asking; No – I had never asked him to do those 

things. And Yes – I was getting mad at him for not doing them.

In retrospect this doesn’t make any sense. I had never asked him to do those things, 

I know it isn’t his personality to do those things, but I was still mad.

I’ll skip to the end where I ended up crying because I felt so bad that I was just the 

worst wife ever. [I am really sounding overly emotional here – this is not my 

proudest moment]

Philip forgave me because he is amazing and he loves me. But I really learned a 

lesson. Philip can’t read my mind. He can’t see my thoughts and know what I expect 

from him if I don’t tell him. 

God has been working on my heart lately, teaching me how to be a more patient 

person. Sunday when I was in the midst of my hissy fit over nothing I could hear him 

saying “aren’t you glad you have a husband to help you? Aren’t you grateful that He 

takes care of you everyday? He works hard to provide for you, doesn’t he? He may 

forget to do things, or not clean everything you know, but he is still there.” 

Ouch.

So this is my point: Let’s be grateful for the men we have.  Let’s not hold them to a 

standard they know nothing about. Let’s love them for who they are, the way they 

are; because they love us that way. Even though we are emotional and irrational, 

and we do stupid things sometimes. They give the most comforting hugs, the most 

sincere compliments, and they are truly gifts from God.

Am I the only one who is guilty of this?