I often believe my husband has not found an excellent wife. When he tells me I have been short with him lately, overreacting and snapping unnecessarily, I am discouraged at my lack of excellence. Impatience and disrespect have brought embarrassment to him on several occasions.
My task-oriented, performance-driven heart attempts to fix itself by making a list: An excellent wife cooks with organic food (not Velveeta), sews her own clothing (or at least irons her husbands shirts!), speaks only words dripping with grace (and not sarcasm) and reads her Bible for hours on end (okay, minutes?!).
The list brings more condemnation; concrete evidence that I cannot be an excellent wife on my own.