Love, As Seen Through the Eyes of an Idiot

I met a girl when I was five years old. I can still remember locking stares with her as our Sunday School teacher introduced me to the rest of the kids. I can still remember how my heart melted when she didn't look away. How the nervousness I felt, being the new kid at church, seemed to fade into nothing as I lost all sense of myself in those bright green eyes.

Somehow, at five years old, I knew that this girl was the one for me. I had no concept of marriage...no understanding of love...in fact, I don't think I truly grasped either until very recently. But that didn't stop me from getting one of her friends to ask her to be my girlfriend. I recall my victorious fist pump very clearly at the news that she had said yes.

And then we switched churches, and I didn't see her anymore. So imagine my excitement when she came walking up the parking lot one Sunday; the butterflies going crazy in my belly when she said hi to me for the first time in who knew how long. Those big beautiful eyes saying so much more.

Somehow, at such a young age, I knew she was my other half. Even so, I spent quite a bit of time denying it. Dating and then breaking up. Seeing other girls. Watching her date other guys. Looking for something else that never had the slightest ability to replace what I had when we were together.

I've always considered myself to be fairly intelligent. But with her, my mind turned to complete mush. You know that children's book, Goodnight, Moon? You know, Goodnight, old woman whispering, Hush. Goodnight, bowl full of mush. Well the contents of that bowl shared a remarkable resemblance with my brain.

December 13, 2013 marked our ten-year anniversary. And it has been quite a journey...to say the least. I have made awful mistakes. A LOT of awful mistakes. But in retrospect, I think they were really all the same mistake...repeated over and over again.

That mistake is this: I grew to think that love was about me instead of it being about her.

Remember that boy I mentioned earlier? The one that got weak in the knees when the little girl with the bright eyes paid attention to him? He may not have been able to explain what he was experiencing, but he knew what love was. He knew that his whole world revolved around that little girl. When they weren't together, he was thinking about her. About what he could do for her when he saw her again. About what he could do to make her smile. To see those gorgeous eyes light up.

Somehow, I lost that along the way. Love became about expectations. Conditions. Feelings. It became about me being happy...usually at her expense. How is it that a five-year-old could understand this while a so-called adult could be utterly clueless? I'm really not sure.

I do know what I've learned, though. I've learned what the apostle Paul meant when he wrote in Ephesians 5:25-27, "Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or blemish, but holy and blameless."

Christ gave up everything for the church. That's LOVE. It isn't a feeling that comes and goes. Love is action. Christ didn't say he would die for us, but only if we love him in return and do this, this, this, and this... No, he died for us. Period.

Action. Love is action. And true love requires no response. No expectations. No conditions. It does not hinge on the other person accepting that love. IT JUST IS.

This is what I understand: I do not have the ability to love unconditionally. But I can try. I'm not capable of being a perfect husband. But through Christ, I can be a good one. I can't promise to never be selfish. But I can make it the exception rather than the rule.

I can forgive with open arms because Christ sets that example every time I fall away and come crawling back. I can be humble and ask for forgiveness. I can wipe clean the record of wrongs. I can choose to see my wife the way God sees her. Without stain or blemish, but holy and blameless.

It took me ten years of marriage to understand these things. But once I did, it was like a set of blinders being taken off of a retarded horse. I feel like that five-year-old boy again. And nothing in this world can stop me from doing my best to make those unbelievable green eyes light up every day for the rest of my life.

I Got It At Ross

My birthday was last month, and in accordance with birthday tradition, I received a reasonable amount of gifts. Unfortunately, two of those gifts were articles of clothing that did not fit. So I acquired the receipt for said ill-fitting gifts and journeyed to the place of purchase in order to exchange/return them.

The place of purchase happened to be Ross.

Well, they didn't have my size. As usual. So I waited patiently in line with the expectation that I would return the clothes and use the money I receive to find the articles of clothing at another store.

What follows is a detail of my interaction with the customer service lady (CSL), and subsequently, her store manager (SM):

Me: I'd like to return these. They don't fit.
CSL: Do you have a receipt?
Me: Yep. Here you go.
CSL: I can't find this on the receipt.
Me: (leaning over the counter and pointing) It's right there.
CSL: Oh, okay.

After several minutes...

CSL: Would you like store credit or would you like it to be put back on the card?
Me: I'd like cash, please.
CSL: It was purchased with a credit card, so store policy will only allow me to put a refund back on the card it was purchased with or issue store credit.
Me: I have the items I need to return and I have a receipt. The clothes were a gift for my birthday, so putting it back on the card would essentially be the same as me not receiving a birthday present. I don't want store credit because you don't have my size in the items I am returning. I'd like cash back, please.
CSL: It's not store policy to give cash back for purchases made with a credit card. We could put it on the card and then you can have the person who purchased it give you cash?
Really?
Me: I'd like to speak to a manager.

Meanwhile a line has formed in the exchanges/returns aisle. After another several minutes, the store manager arrives.

SM: It's not store policy to give cash back for purchases made with a credit card. We could put it on the card and then you can have the person who purchased it give you cash?
Again. Really?
Me: No I think I prefer cash.
SM: The computer system isn't set up to refund cash for purchases made with a credit card. (she proceeds to turn her computer screen toward me so that I can see the only options are "store credit" and "refund to card")
Me: I'm sorry but I'm not really interested in how your computer system is set up. I still want cash.
SM: (Sighs loudly) Let me call my district manager to see what he says.

She disappears to the back of the store. The line begins moving again as I step aside and allow the customer service lady to take other customers. Several more minutes pass, and then the store manager returns.

SM: My district manager said I could make an exception this one time as long as you accept our store policy in the future.
Me: Thanks, but I do not accept your store policy now, nor will I in the future.
SM: (Rolls her eyes) Just so you know we are making a one-time exception.
Me: Will you be making that exception using the same computer that you personally claimed could not handle that type of transaction?
SM: (Remains awkwardly silent as she processes the CASH refund on the very computer that was incapable of processing a CASH transaction mere minutes before) Here's your refund, sir. Have a nice day.
Me: Can I have all ones please?
SM: (Sighs loudly and trades the larger bills for Ones) Is there anything else?
Me: No thank you. Have a good one.

Then I used my newly acquired cash money to make it rain all over the counter and the store manager.

Okay, I made that last part up. But the moral of the story is this: Store policy is Bull$#!7.

Answers to Questions That Shouldn't Have Been Asked

I woke up late this morning. Most likely due to the chirping cricket alarm tone I have my phone set to. I distinctly remember the sound being incorporated into my dream. Needless to say, the rest of the morning was a mad scramble to get three kids and myself fed, dressed, and out the door.

After dropping my youngest off at daycare, I shuttled the other two to their elementary school, where I was required to sign them in and furnish them with tardy slips to be presented to their teachers in order for my children to gain entry to their classrooms.

While filling out their tardy slips, I noticed an area marked Reason next to the Time Checked In/Out box. So I think to myself, Why are they asking me this question? Surely, the school doesn't feel it is any of their business why I am checking my kids in at 8:30 instead of dropping them off at 8:00.

Right?

So, to recap:

QUESTION #1:
Reason for checking child in late?

ANSWER GIVEN: 
Late. That's all, just Late.

ANSWERS I CONSIDERED GIVING:
1. None of your *insert expletive* business. 
2. Their ritual morning beatings took longer than usual.
3. I wanted an excuse to see the school secretary again.
4. Fiery car crash.
5. Riley had explosive diarrhea this morning, the smell of which caused Declan to vomit all over the bathroom floor when he went in to brush his teeth, which in turn caused me to vomit uncontrollably while cleaning it up, all while Reagan (who does not attend this school) laughed and threw shoes at me.

Well, this got me thinking about other irrelevant questions I've been asked.

I take my children for their school physicals, and every time the doctor asks the same question.

QUESTION #2:
How many hours of TV does your child watch a day?

ANSWER GIVEN:
As much as I allow them to.

ANSWERS I WOULD LOVE TO GIVE:
1. None of your *insert expletive* business.
2. As many as it takes to keep them occupied while I get some actual work done around the house.
3. They only watch TV until they pass out.

Here's another one doctors love to ask without fail.

QUESTION #3:
Do you smoke?

ANSWER SOMETIMES GIVEN:
Why, do you think that's what caused the fascia tinnitus I incurred while running three miles yesterday?

ANSWER USUALLY GIVEN:
Yes. Is that bad?

Have you ever been pulled over at night (and this only happens at night in my experience) by a balding cop with a ridiculous mustache that appears to drink way too much of his homemade beer? The initial inquiry is always the same.

QUESTION #4:
Where you headed?

ANSWER GIVEN...Every single time, whether or not it's true:
Home

ANSWERS I WANT TO GIVE BUT WOULD DEFINITELY PAY FOR:
1. Your mom's.
2. I'm taking the AK47's I just purchased back to my warehouse to get them prepared for mass distribution.
3. To heaven eventually. Do you know Jesus?
4. 7-11 to get Combos. The pizza flavored ones. I love Combos when I smoke weed.
5. I've been asking myself that same question ever since I escaped from jail.

Just remember to pick your battles carefully...even if you really, really, REALLY want to tell that power-tripping cop you're on your way to visit his mother.