Earlier this summer, we had to clean out the long drain pipe that extends from the kitchen sink. While the end cap was off and my husband was fetching tools, I forgot and emptied three glasses of water down the sink while loading the dishwasher. Ugg. This of course, came through onto the floor below, along with the stinky, gray stuff in the pipe. Therefore we battled what I would compare to a ‘sewer’ smell over the weekend, despite the fact that we washed the floor with various cleaners nine times!
Then, on the following Monday, I overcooked black beans, burned them to be more exact! I didn’t notice until a distinct odor, similar to urine, reached my nose. (Who knew burnt black beans smelled like that?!)
Yes, I’m pretty good at messing up. Yet, all through this, my husband never yelled, never said a condemning or demeaning word.
His way of relating to me is like the way Jesus relates to the church. He loves us despite how many times we mess up and doesn’t withhold His love in response to our mistakes.
Is it any wonder I write romance?