I don't generally use the lyrics of Paula Abdul as a personal mantra but as Troy and I bantered back and forth on the way home from church this morning I realized that opposites really do attract. The truth is, if we wanted to get a divorce, I would simply sight irreconcilable differences. We don't want to get divorced, mind you, but we are just not on the same page when it comes to weather. Or temperature. Or natural forces. Let's take today's weather, for example. I would trade a whole heap of snow for the hideous wind we have smacking us in the faces on this very day. My husband, he likes it. He thinks it feels like twenty puppies are licking his face. Okay, so he didn't say that exactly. He said something about how it feels cleansing. Cleansing to have dust thrown all over you. Really? And then something about how it gives him some sort of dirt facial. Or something. I don't know, I'd stopped listening. But I don't like dirt facials. I don't think the wind is cleansing. I think it messes up my hair and makes my ears hurt if it's cold and sounds eerie when it moans through the rafters.
Troy hates the sun. He has sensitive eyes and overheats in record speed. If I would consent to live in a bat cave, he'd elect me wife of the year. I will not consent to such nonsense because who in their right mind hates the sun? The sun is warm. The sun is bright and shiny. The sun is crisp and clean and glorious. Troy doesn't like it because it chases the rain away. I think his brain has grown mildew as a result of so many rainy years in the northwest. Clearly his water socked head is effecting his ability to think rationally. If it rained, constantly, in that bat cave, he'd elect me wife of the decade. I don't mind a little rain here and there to brighten up the greens and wipe away the dust, but if more than a few days pass without my splendid sunshine, you can bet my world is going to feel upside down and all twisty inside.
We agree on so many things. Before we were married, we went though a book called The Hard Questions by Susan Piver. I'm not sure that two people with such strong personalities ever got through this book with such flying colors. Out of 100 questions, I think there were 2 that we had even a slight difference of opinion on. Our goals and dreams and lifestyles line up in ways that have made our relationship very easy. And obviously, our shared faith and equal yoking has been the platform on which our marriage has stood. It's a good thing, however, that mother nature doesn't ask us our opinion on the weather because you can bet we'd have a long distance relationship. Occasionally I'd put on a coat and enter the rainy bat cave and he'd wear a bathing suit and step into my sun room.
Today someone told me that his idea of heaven was a German chocolate cake trampoline. I don't like coconut so I was left to ponder the fact that if I died and found myself sinking in German chocolate cake, I might think I had ended up in the wrong place. In John 14:2 Jesus says, "In my father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you." I'm pretty sure that Troy's room is in the basement. There is a constant mist, the gentle rumble of thunder, and wind for the times he needs a dirt facial. There is also an endless supply of brownies. My room is always 76 degrees, the sun shines in on me from an open window. I sit on the window seat and smile out at Lake Tahoe because, somehow, it is there too. Occasionally a gentle breeze blows the thin curtains just slightly. And in the center of the room is my giant tiramisu trampoline.