“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven….a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak….” Ecclesiastes 3:1 & 7

I peeked around the door into the living room and saw my husband staring through, not at, the television, his brow furrowed. Obviously he had more on his mind than his team’s injured quarterback who was being helped off the field. The network cut to a commercial so I walked to the couch and wrapped my arms around him, burying my face into the fold of his neck. He shifted his weight, leaning away.

“Is it my breath or are you mad at me?”

“Just trying to watch the game.”

“But it’s a commercial.”

He shrugged and continued to stare at an ad for fabric softener. I snuggled up next to him and asked what had happened to the player, if he was out for good or just a few plays. My husband reached for the remote and changed the channel. I asked his opinion of the election, how things were going at work, and if he’d given any more thought to our travel plans for Christmas. He just glared at me with dead eyes and said, “Not now, Cin. I’m not in the mood.”

Not in the mood? To talk? He has a mood for that?

I understand that women converse on a whole different level than men. When it comes to talking we got more gears than a logging truck. But I also know that solitude can be deadly, isolation the first step toward depression. Given enough time, what begins as a sulk grows into a full blown funk.

I mentioned my husband’s foul mood to a co-worker. He said I should give my spouse some space; that sometimes guys just have to think things through. I thought that through and decided it was pretty lame advice from a guy with a college degree and most of his teeth, but I took his advice and kept quiet. I didn’t prod, push or ask what was wrong with my husband. Just let him brood while I went about the house humming Kenny Chesney songs, as I projected a positive attitude.

I still don’t know what was bothering my husband that week. He never said. I don’t think it was anything I did, but I’m a wife so when he’s in a bad mood I assume it’s my fault. I wish he would open up, share his feelings and expose his heart the way I long to share mine with him. But he’s just a guy who’s not so much tall as he is handsome and quiet. The wisdom of Solomon directed us that there is a time for everything under the sun — a time to speak and a time to be silent. I suppose this was my time to be silent. And as hard as it was….it was good advice.

If he wants to talk, I’ll listen. If he wants to walk it off, I’ll hike behind him. And if he just wants to be loved and left alone, I can do that, too. The important thing is that I heard him say “I do.” If my husband never says another word to me he’s said enough.

Eddie Jones and Cindy Sproles write the popular He Said, She Said Devotions and co-founded ChristianDevotions.us.
They host the BlogtalkRadio show, Christian Devotions Speak Up!

“God loves a cheerful giver. God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.” 2 Corinthians 9: 6-8

$142,048.00! I couldn’t believe the bill was so large but our insurance company was refusing to pay our son’s medical expenses. I panicked, emptied our savings and spread the rest of the costs among credit cards. Stupid? Perhaps. But a mother will do almost anything for her child. I’m not sure what my husband would have done. I didn’t ask. I just knew there was a price to pay for giving birth to a boy with a handicap and no matter what the cost, I wouldn’t deny Chase the care he needed.

I had a slush fund with $50 set aside. Mad money for me. It wasn’t much, but it was mine. With our savings gone, credit cards maxed out and creditors calling daily, we began to fall behind on the monthly interest payments. And still I wouldn’t touch my secret stash or ask God for help. I’d manage on my own, thank you.

Then one evening, in the garden, I broke down. “God, help us,” I cried. “I can’t do this anymore.” That’s when it began to rain. Not money. But cold, hard drops. I thought it was some kind of sick joke, God’s way of punishing me for… well, I wasn’t sure for what. I’d done the best I knew how. But there I was broke, wet and on my knees in the mud. That’s when I accused God of acting like a heartless bill collector.

The next day I cleaned out my slush fund. Not to pay the bills, but to help a starving college student buy food. I figured I could help someone else even if God refused to help me. I could be bigger and more charitable than God, even if I was bitter.

The next week I opened the mail and found a check for $100. Within days more money arrived from mysterious sources. Since that day on my knees in the mud God has provided thousands of dollars in ways I’d never imagined. I learned that when I give, He gives more.

I don’t look at the balance in my slush fund anymore. I just give with a joyful heart. As I write this I know that my secret stash is empty. I cleaned it out last week to help a ministry that’s dear to my heart. But I’m not worried. God will provide. He always has. He always will. I only needed to let go, trust and fall to my knees in prayer.

Eddie Jones and
Cindy Sproles write
the popular He Said, She Said
Devotions and co-founded
ChristianDevotions.us.
They host the BlogtalkRadio show,
Christian Devotions Speak Up!