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Why Can't I Take My Time?

Ever since I was little, my concept of time has gotten me into trouble. I could spend hours trying on shoes, looking for just the right pair with the right feel that coordinated with my clothes. I could see my parent's growing frustration and hear their exasperation; I simply needed more time to make the choice. Since Mom and Dad were Mr. and Mrs. Punctuality, every family outing found me throwing on clothes as they dragged me out of my room to the car.

When I married Steve, I couldn't ever please him in this area either. He'd ruin a pleasant day of shopping by trying to "help" me. To him successful shopping was measured by spending the shortest time in the store. Although we'd begin with the intention of purchasing pants, inevitably I'd see other items we needed. Why come back another day when I could get all I needed this trip? I needed more time!

Steve served on a church staff making a typical youth pastor's salary. I'd often comparison shop, to receive the best value for our money. Finding the best product at the best price takes time, often requiring me to check several stores before making the final decision. Steve never seemed to appreciate this effort, only thinking of "time wasted," and it was a source of frustration for me.

Why Can't She Be on Time?

I was known as "The Phantom" in college because of my ability to get more accomplished than seemed humanly possible. I was always double-tasking—-reviewing Greek vocabulary as I walked to class or praying as I exercised. Life is short. I wanted to redeem each moment for God.

I was attracted to Laurene because of her people focus and spontaneity. But all deadlines were set aside for the priority of her friends on the phone. She was consistently twenty minutes late for our dates. This seemed like a small thing when we were dating and intensely in love.

After the wedding, our different approaches to time challenged our relationship. I'd accomplish a lot at work, pick up the sitter, and be home by 6:00 P.M. for dinner and a movie. When I arrived, I'd find Laurene on the phone or working on a project and she still needed to shower and dress. I'd have to change reservations or find a different movie. To me this was a message that the time with me wasn't important.

I tried to honor her, yet found myself being sharp and unhappy with her on more and more occasions. I felt conscious of hurting others by making them wait and was always asking people to forgive us for our tardiness. I was ticked at my wife. Yet, no matter how much I talked to her about the problem, nothing seemed to change.

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