Peaceful and laughing, huh? Now that is funny! We are mothers, with heaps to worry about, right? A fret here and freak there! Yep, even my friends who range from winebibbers to Bible-bangers would both agree on that.

“Who can find a virtuous woman for her price is far above rubies.” -- Proverbs 31:10

I am often drawn to this text as I pray for God to mold me into the woman He desires me to be, no matter how much against the stream of normalcy it seems.

My Interlinear Bible, which is translated directly from the Hebrew, inspires me when I read, “Who can find an able woman? For her value is far above jewels.” The word “able” hit me with a giant thud. I wasn’t as pricked by the word “virtuous” as virtues seem to abound in the feminine sex! I’m only being slightly sarcastic! But “able”! “Able”?

As mothers and wives we often spend wasted brain space mulling over just the opposite.

We talk ourselves out of any last vestige of energy, and by the power of our minds we feel even more tired than we really are!

“Honey, not tonight! Actually I’ve got a headache. No, it’s a migraine.”

If he asks how our day was, and we remember how Suzie cut off her little sister’s hair, how Johnny peed on the clean folded clothes, or how the baby spread the surprise in his diaper like peanut butter around the crib, we might feel compelled to say it was a “bad day”. But wait a second! Let’s get out of our negative tunnel vision and see the big picture. There were no major accidents. We are all still alive and breathing. Suzie did really well at her reading lesson and Johnny picked some weeds from the garden and said I was a “beaubibul laby.” It was a lovely day. Come to think of it, it was a great day!

If we greet him at the door with a tired expression, a list of complaints, and quickly pass off all the children to him, his welcome home will not be very enriching. It may make him want to retreat! Home should be a solace from the worry and stress with which the world assails him. It should be a place of enriching, a gas station to fill his tank before venturing back into his world of business and stress.

Men are not emotional sorts and just don’t get the problem. My friend told me how she told her husband that she was feeling “out of sorts.” He replied, “Don’t feel out of sorts.” This reply was the right answer but not the one she wanted to hear.

Men are wired differently so when our skies look gray we need to go to God first and then maybe call a close girlfriend who will lend a listening ear.

I have to confess I’m rather nosy by nature. I peer over my husband’s shoulder whenever I notice him corresponding by e-mail. Thankfully, Charlie doesn’t seem to mind my snooping and I acquire some great information this way as he’s not a real chatty person. Several weeks ago I read something in one of his e-mails that I found very encouraging. He wrote, “I am so thankful that I have a Godly wife who is submissive to me.” I hope repeating this won’t make you think I’m trying to boast.

Recently, while having dinner at my parent’s house, Charlie praised me again by announcing the same thing to my family. And again, I overheard him making a similar comment to our pastor. The point is: my husband values my submissive attitude above everything else I do. It blesses his socks off!

It’s not hard for me to submit to my husband. I love watching his reaction when I affirm him and comply with his decisions. There’s a softness that comes to his countenance when he realizes I won’t dispute his leadership. There’s a tenderness to his touch.

The gift of submission is ours to give to our husbands. They cannot force it out of us. We may as well not call it “submission” if we do it grudgingly. The “Okay; have it your way!” attitude is not what this is about. Webster’s Dictionary uses the words ‘meekness’ and ‘consideration’ to describe this word.

My children know that daddy is in charge. In my husband’s presence I tell my children that Daddy answers to God for all of us. Believe it or not, it doesn’t make me feel less of a person when my four-year-old goes around saying, ”God’s the boss of Daddy and Daddy’s the boss of Mommy.”

I was newly married and now, for the fist time, this verse applied to me. The only question was; what did it really mean to submit? I asked my husband, Paul, and he told me not to worry about it, that I was doing just fine.

A year later we happened to be in the airport again and noticed a sign announcing that passengers can be fined up to $10,000 for transporting hazardous materials.

I found it very upsetting, early in our marriage, when I would drop in on him at school and he, intent with teaching, would hardly acknowledge my presence.

My sister’s husband, Rod, is an active sort of man who loved to roughhouse with their little son. "Rod! Be careful! Watch out! You’ll hurt him! BE CAREFUL!" Becky would exclaim as little Jason flew high up in the air before Rod caught him or missed sharp corners by inches as Rod swung him by his feet. Finally Becky realized that all her warnings were not only driving a wedge into their marriage, but were not making the slightest change in Rod. She vowed before the Lord that the words, "Be careful" would never pass her lips again, and that she would entrust Jason’s safety to Him. She has kept her promise, and while she doesn’t enjoy the roughhousing, God has given her peace about it. Rod continues to play wildly with Jason and his two little brothers, who love every minute of it, and who have never had a serious injury because of it.

I had smashed his television set in self-righteous anger over its presence in our home. Although I don't feel we should have one, that was not my decision to make; he is the head of the home, and I opted to, rather rudely and disrespectfully, take a leadership role in that matter.