I am loud, but I don’t like noise; I like it quiet, but I teach in a noisy school.
And I married a man who doesn’t hear very well, a man who needs the volume of the television or the radio turned up as loud as it can go. Not just loud, but exceedingly loud. Or he can’t hear. A few years ago, we bought headphones so he can listen to the news and Star Trek and all his old movies without blasting me out of the house. By the way, I think his lack of hearing is good for our marriage. We’ve made it almost 33 years!
I am loud, but I don’t like noise; I like it quiet, but I’m married to a man who is not quiet. He doesn’t talk a lot, but he moves in a loud manner, walks in a loud manner, shops in a loud manner. He’s a big man. He makes his presence known. I like it quiet, but I love my husband who doesn’t do quiet. And when he’s not home, his absence leaves a quietness that makes me miss his noise even more.
Once, before he retired from the bank, he looked out his office window and saw me shopping in a store across the parking lot, so he got on the bank’s intercom and loudly yelled, "Don’t let her in the store!” He thought he was funny; I thought he was loud and embarrassing, but I still loved him. And thought he was cute.
Even my husband’s snoring is loud and keeps me awake at night. But ironically, when he isn’t here, the lack of loud snoring also keeps me awake. Go figure.
What is that? Maybe nothing, maybe something. Or maybe the real definition of irony is that God has lots of irons in the fire regardless of our situation. Always teaching us a lesson. God is omniscient, so He knows. And that's enough for me. I don’t have to figure it all out. Maybe it’s just life. And noisy or not, it’s good.