As men are Mars-ish and woman are Venis-ish, so are the days of our lives.

“She’s a Mystery”

As I, the great problem solver and her the voice,

I needn’t know that I have a choice.

To listen better and fix it less,

I still get it wrong, I must confess.

Such a perfect creature God has made,

a mystery unsolved by man to the grave.

Why we must let God lead our path,

He holds the key for our love at last.

The mystery which lie behind her heart,

Forever a gift till death do us part.

-Alter Pain-

My precious wife has a garden tour coming to our home. We will entertain over 600 guests. She has been working feverishly on the yard, the garden, the flowers and the house while I am at work. Days of endless labor, pride and passion. One day before Fathers Day, I was asked to do a simple task; that to help her ready the final touches. I was to cut off three large limbs off a large Oak tree. Laughingly my last name Quenneville is derived from the “Town of Oaks” in French of course. So between my masculinity and last name, I was the perfect man for the job. I grabbed the tools and one, two, three, the branches came down. Four, five and six came down in much the same manner. Wait a minute, she asked me to cut three branches off the tree, as I clearly never thought to myself.  Once done with the six off of the Oak tree, I spied more dead branches on many of the pines. I thoughtlessly cut those down as well. That lead to the shrubs and the plants that were over hanging the sidewalk.

I walked over to my wife with a smirk on my face. She was noticing the work I had performed with much sweat and labor. Two very large piles of tree branches, shrubbery and other things that must have gotten in  the way of my “tunnel vision” caught her attention. She quickly ran through the yard to see the damage in which she knew I must have inflicted. This precious soul began to weep. I very slowly turn towards the back of the house and meekly walked away. I simply did not know how to respond. So I said, “I worked my butt off to help you” and she replied “you are the butt”.

Her strength carried her through Fathers day and I was treated very well. But her heart clearly still hurt. She might have still been a bit ticked. After Church, was over, I remembered being so thankful that Pastor Tim preached a Segway into what my apology might look like. I prayed with her in the truck after service. That opened the angst that had been harbored for the last 15 or so hours. The short drive home seemed endless. Then the light bulb went on. The days and weeks leading to this garden tour that she had so enjoyed and labored over, was shifted from her to me in a wink. I have learned from this that she wanted me to listen, not try to he-man the yard for a testosterone fix. The more I realized how I had gone wrong, the more I noticed how precious my wife is. A strong, yet gentle heart, who is truly excited about serving me, our family and her friends. She is a gift from God and from nowhere else. Her mysteries aren’t for me to try and figure out, it is part of the gift that God keeps apart. For as he is as much a mystery to man so shall woman be in His likeness. Its a bit like having a little bit of God on earth with us.

1. Men with tools? Stop Look and Listen.
2. Step beside ourselves, there is so much missed beauty within our wives.
3. Listen well, she tells us her story with her heart not her words.
4. Less fixing… especially when it isn’t broken.

Men, we must lead well. We will have arrived, when our wives follow us because they want to, not because they have to.

Oh and please dont try this at home. Leave it to the professional. (Me)

Love,

-Alter Pain-