When Elliot and I were dating, probably in our first year together, we were having breakfast at my parents' house. He was a regular at our house, and he cooked well, so we kept him around for meals, especially. When we were cleaning up, I had half my coffee left, and part of a brownie (look, ya girl likes a treat with her coffee, don't judge) and I had stacked them together so they wouldn't get thrown out. I had to finish getting ready, and I pointed at my leftover coffee, and asked Elliot if he could please heat that up for me.

Ten minutes later, he knocks on my bedroom door, I let him in, and he says

"Here, I warmed up your brownie."

For a second, I just stared. I had no idea what he was talking about. Then it dawned on me.

"No, honey, I wanted you to heat up my coffee."

The poor guy was crestfallen. He looked at the very toasty brownie, and said

"Oh, that makes a lot more sense. Hot coffee, right."

Four years later, this is an inside joke. I mean, last week the light of my life got my coffee wrong. I'm still not totally sure how a macchiato with an extra shot turns into a chai tea latte, but, hey, the world keeps spinning, even for the under-caffeinated. He “warmed up my brownie”, yet again.

I know I haven't been married as long as many of you, and if you and your spouse or significant other are exactly the same in every way, then A. You can skip this post. and B. You should probably be in the Smithsonian.

Marriage isn't easy, because we're two sinners, with flaws and imperfections, married to each other. He is going to warm up a brownie countless times, and so will I. However, sometimes I don’t show up as a kind and understanding wife. A lot of times, I get annoyed or angry when Elliot doesn't do something exactly the way I think he should.

Correction: The way I would do it.

He does things his way, and that’s okay.

We’re different. It’s a good thing. It’s good that we think differently, and work differently, and love differently. We have different love languages, and different personalities. His love language is acts of service, and mine is quality time. It’s challenging to remember that Elliot is not me. He doesn’t interpret things like I do, he doesn’t receive love the same way I do, and for goodness’ sake, Rebekah, No. The. Man. Cannot. Read. Your. Mind. (Okay that last part was just for me…..although things would be much easier if he knew what I felt and wanted even when I don’t tell him). So realistic..

We are never going to communicate exactly the same way, and we will never complete a project the same way (because I like to clean up supplies and tools as I go along, and he leaves everything out until the entire project is finished. I cannot even function in his office sometimes).

What I try to remember, (and I'll admit I don't always do a great job of this), is that I wasn't attracted to Elliot because he thinks the same way I do. I didn't choose him for his brain, his looks, his job, or the way that he does the laundry.

I fell in love with my husband because he is the most patient man I've ever met.

He is patient, and I am not. I knew I would need someone to even out my impatience. I needed someone who was caring and compassionate when I was stubborn and callous. I needed a partner who could teach me the things that didn't come naturally to me.

I needed someone not like me.

Although it's much easier said than done, I'm really grateful for our differences. It makes us a team, and let's be honest, having two Bekah's together would be a disaster.

About a week ago, I was cleaning out our dog supplies and wanted to get rid of some rawhide bones we were gifted. I knew they weren't great for the girls, (hence, why I still had them) but I needed to get rid of them and I figured, hey, it will be fine, just this once.

Famous last words, right?

Approximately 12 seconds later, Ellie starts wheezing, and I, I just froze. In an instant, I realized I had no idea how to fix a choking dog. I can help a choking baby or human, but a dog? What do you even do???

Like a moron, I just stood there and asked out loud, "Is she choking?"

Elliot ran into the room and confirmed that yes, she was choking.

I panicked, and screamed

"WHAT DO WE DO?!?!"

But Elliot was already there, dislodging the stuck bone, and .3 seconds later, Ellie was fine.

What I learned is that God is good, and loves me so much that he gave me a husband who can function when I can’t. While I was frozen in panic, he efficiently saved my precious pup, and if that's not the most astounding grace, I don't know what is.

Elliot cannot read my mind, and I’m glad he can’t. I’m glad that I have to communicate with him in order for him to understand me better, and vice versa. I’m glad I have to learn more about him so that I can become a better wife. I’m glad for opportunities to learn and grow and yes, even develop a little bit of patience. If he could read my mind, then how would we grow as a couple? How would we learn to work together? How would I get to know him on a deeper, more intimate level?

Does my husband drive me nuts? Absolutely. Does he do things that make zero sense to me all the time? For. Sure. Will he get my coffee order wrong again? I don't doubt it.

But he tries. He tries to surprise me with a special coffee that ends up being a chai tea latte. He orders fried pickles because he thought I liked them (I don’t, I like onion rings). He tries to get everything done early and dinner ready by the time I get home from work. Sometimes he does, and sometimes things take longer than expected.

He tries so hard. And he is still the most patient man I’ve ever met. The least I can do is try to remember that, always.

Even when he warms up my brownie.

“Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor. If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up. Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone? Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.” Ecclesiastes 4:9-12

“Yes, the body has many different parts, not just one part. If the foot says, “I am not a part of the body because I am not a hand,” that does not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear says, “I am not part of the body because I am not an eye,” would that make it any less a part of the body? If the whole body were an eye, how would you hear? Or if your whole body were an ear, how would you smell anything?” 1 Corinthians 12:14-17