My Extrovert Dilemma

What I’m about to say may shock you. For those of you who know my witty, charming and sociable husband, it really might come as a complete surprise.

Although he is generally a wonderful conversationalist and entertaining story-teller…he has a secret. He’s a closet-introvert. Now just in case you’re not a psychologist or obsessed with various personality assessment tools, an introvert is not someone who hates people, fun or all social interaction.  Contrary to the belief of many extroverts, introverts are not anti-social people who hate you.  An introvert is simply someone who recharges and gets their energy from being alone.  I know for some of you, this is a very confusing concept. It confuses me. I honestly do not understand how you can feel better after spending time alone. But amazingly, these people do it…And manage to not only survive, but be in a better mood after being by themselves!

As I said before, I don’t get it. There is nothing that makes me happier than being with the people I love and talking/laughing/story-telling/joking/crying (yes, sometimes all of those things do happen in a whirlwind extrovert session) together.  And so, naturally, I expect that the best way I can love another person is by providing them the pleasure of my company (and voice) and being present , for them to describe the various details of their life. So you can imagine what a rude awakening it was for me when I actually realized that my husband was a real-life-introvert.  I recall a scene where I walked through the door after a long day at work, into our beautiful home...oh wait, no…we don’t have a beautiful home. I walked into my grandpa’s basement, which, in essence is the one room apartment that we are currently occupying, to find my husband, watching TV on his laptop, with headphones in. (Side note, I’m pretty sure headphones were invented by an introvert. I have no proof. It’s just a theory.) He removed the headphones for a minute, said a quick “hi” and plugged himself back in. I was devastated. I wanted nothing more than to love him by sharing my day and hearing about his, and here he was, completely content to lose himself in the world of his favorite TV show.

I know this is going to sound dramatic, but I really “ached” to be able to love Josh by spending time with him. And I felt really hurt and rejected that wasn't how he needed to be loved at that moment. 

I don’t remember exactly what reminded me, but I started thinking about something that Christopher West said when I went to one of his classes this past summer…He talked about how when our love is “rejected” and we’re hurt by someone (especially someone that we love) we can choose to open our heart and offer our pain to the Lord, and HE can fill that ache in our heart. But it doesn’t stop there…HE can also redeem our “ache” and use that redemptive suffering to love that person in the way that they really need to be loved at that moment. WOW! So, by me choosing to not get angry that Josh didn’t want to spend time with me that very second, and giving that hurt to the Lord, I could actually love Josh in that moment…not the way that I wanted to love him, but rather in the way that he needed to be loved! And isn’t loving him what I wanted to do in the first place?

I would love to tell you that is what I do every time Josh admits that he “needs introvert time” and plugs in those headphones. It’s not.  But I can tell you, that in those times when I do give my extroverted “ache” to the Lord, it really does make a difference. And although I know that some of it comes from the fact that Josh feels better once he’s spent some time alone….I also know that the Lord loved him exactly how he needed to be loved, from my sacrifice.  And it’s a good deal for me too, because the Lord’s always ready for a conversation.  I’m so glad He’s an extrovert.  J

So until my husband has a conversion from introversion (oh my goodness…that should be a song. Or a rap. Connor Flanagan, where are you when I need you?), I guess this is how I’ll be learning to love.

Then again, I could always just blog when Josh doesn’t want to talk…

Love,

Joy

Rotten Squash

I had a melt-down the other day. It was my day off and I woke up early, which was really a small miracle in and of itself, determined to have a productive "cute wife day." I did a ton of laundry (how is there this much with 2 people?? Lord help me when we have children!), and then cleaned the kitchen and proceeded to do meal planning for the next couple of weeks. I headed to the grocery store with a list long enough to impress the Krazy Coupon Ladies, and spent close to two hours on a grocery-finding-mission. Being the cute wife that I am, I came home, put all the food away and proceeded to begin preparing one of Josh's favorite meals.   And that's when disaster struck. I cut open the spaghetti squash to find that it was rotten. Disappointing, but I was having too good of a day to let it bother me too much, so I hopped in the car and went to a different grocery store to grab another squash. Upon returning home, I cut open the new squash only to find out that, it too, was rotten. And then I lost it. Literally flipped out. My cute husband heard me freaking out (I may or may not have slammed a few cabinets and pans...) and came upstairs to see what was wrong, at which point I got upset and started freaking out on him. Realizing that the situation was quickly deteriorating, he suggested we go out to eat. A welcome suggestion, right? Not to me. I got even more upset, that he hated my cooking, my hair and puppies. (Okay, maybe not quite that bad. Although, he may have a different story.) In a matter of minutes, my fabulous "cute-wife'day" had gone completely wrong...all because of rotten squash, or so I thought.

Later that evening, I made it to Adoration and was praying with the daily Mass readings from the day.

"On a certain sabbath Jesus went into the synagogue and taught, and there was a man there whose right hand was withered. The scribes and the Pharisees watched him closely to see if he would cure on the sabbath so that they might discover a reason to accuse him. But he realized their intentions and said to the man with the withered hand, "Come up and stand before us." And he rose and stood there.Then Jesus said to them, "I ask you, is it lawful to do good on the sabbath rather than to do evil, to save life rather than to destroy it?" Looking around at them all, he then said to him, "Stretch out your hand." He did so and his hand was restored. But they became enraged and discussed together what they might do to Jesus." (Luke 6:6-11, RSV)

And then it hit me. I'm a "cute-wife-Pharisee." I'll spend all day doing all this random stuff to try to impress my husband, or the cute wife down the street, or Martha Stewart.  But then one thing goes wrong and I can't even speak lovingly to my husband. It becomes more about the meal I make than the man with whom I get to enjoy it. And that's not cute. And it's certainly not love. It's being a Pharisee...looking good on the outside, following all the cute-wife-rules...but not really loving. And let me tell you, it sure is easier to iron laundry than to really love another person. But I'm gonna give love one heck of a good try. Because he's worth it.

Thanks for teaching me a lesson, rotten squash. 

Joy :)