I feel like there’s a constant battle going on within me. For simplicity’s sake, let’s say there’s Good Vanessa and Bad Vanessa. I can even picture them, Good Vanessa with her wings and halo, not to mention her apron, and she’s carrying a load of laundry. Then there’s Bad Vanessa. Oh, Bad Vanessa. Yep, she’s wearing a little headband with horns poking up out of it, she’s got a tail coming out of her little miniskirt… What’s that she’s holding? Oh, she’s grasping a mirror tightly as she slinks around.
(And I know that really this could be a battle between the Holy Spirit and Satan, but it’s a lot less scary to me if I explain it as versions of me running around. Plus, that allowed me to use the title Catfight!)
Good Vanessa is obviously the ultimate housewife extraordinaire. She doesn’t get completely freaked out at the thought of doing the grocery shopping with a child or two in tow. She doesn’t buzz around the kitchen frantically when it’s time to cook dinner. Oh no, she does it all with grace and poise, excited to be doing this — because she knows it’s really what she always wanted to do. Raise a family, love on them, serve them.
Good Vanessa also wants to be healthy. She’s eating better for the sake of The Husband and her girls. She wants to live well and live long for them.
Bad Vanessa… Well, she understands that the laundry needs to be done, but she constantly wonders if The Husband notices how much she’s doing. That he’s no longer having to help as much. She takes notice when Big Sister comments on how the floor was vacuumed, but The Husband doesn’t. Bad Vanessa wonders why she bothers preparing meals when half of it doesn’t get eaten because maybe The Husband had a big lunch or the girls are as picky as she was when she was their age.
Bad Vanessa also likes eating better, but not for her health. Nope. It’s because the number on the scale dropped significantly, and she likes that. She wants to keep it that way.
Good Vanessa knows that she is supposed to be living under the approval of God and God alone, according to His Word. Bad Vanessa craves attention from The Husband, and approval from those around her. It’s like Bad Vanessa never got past junior high and high school.
Good Vanessa knows that her ultimate satisfaction in all things CAN come from Christ alone.
Bad Vanessa thinks she’ll be content when. When The Husband comes home with a banner that says GREAT JOB, WIFE! When she’s at a certain weight. When she’s volunteered for the right people at the right time. When everyone likes her.
Good Vanessa kind of feels sorry for Bad Vanessa. She’s kind of pathetic. It’s a bit surprising she wins these battles as often as she does, actually.
But the battles do rage on…
“Why do you rush to do that laundry?” Bad Vanessa asks Good. “He gets the clothes dirty, too. He can help. Just like the dishes. He doesn’t eat off the same ones? And doesn’t it bother you that he never rinses off his plates??”
Good shrugs. “He puts in plenty of hours each week to make the money to buy the food that we eat and the clothes that we wear. How would you like to work as much as he does?” she asks. “How would you like to have that on your shoulders? It’s all up to him to provide for the entire family. And at his age and stage in the game, he’s got to work harder to keep his job and hopefully move up someday. Gee, no pressure.”
“Did you learn that sarcasm from him?” Bad smirks. “I know how much you love his never ending teasing and picking at you.”
Good sighs. “Maybe you forgot that that was something you liked about him. He challenges you. He makes you laugh, even when you don’t want to. It’s all in fun, and he isn’t like that all the time and you know it. You’re just choosing to look for the negative.”
Bad pouts. “He hasn’t said anything about your weight loss, except to complain about your having to buy more clothes.”
“He also didn’t say anything when you ballooned up to 200 pounds with each pregnancy. Not every woman gets to feel like a goddess when she looks like the Michelin Man,” Good retorts. “Now leave me alone, I have work to do.”
Bad’s smirk reappears as she laughs. “Oh yeah, ‘work.’ Your ‘work‘ is oh, so valuable. The world may just stop turning if you aren’t here to cart kids around, do laundry, and make another boring meal.”
Good turns to look Bad square in the eyes. “It may not be rocket science, but it is what I am called to do right now, for such a time as this. And I am going to do it to the best of my ability because I am going to do it for God. If it makes The Husband happy and if it makes me feel better, that’s just a wonderful by-product. So I suggest you back your selfish, glass-half-empty, attention-seeking self up. Got it?”
Bad turns on her heel and stalks off.
And Good wins. This time.