Yesterday I wrote that I had no remorse over being punished, and my husband asked me to explain why. Later, when we were talking about my blog post, he commented that the explanation I wrote might make others think he was insecure about my level of obedience, then explained what it actually was that he wanted me to elaborate on. So, my apologies if I gave anyone the wrong impression.
And without further ado . . .
I’m the sort of person who thinks, a lot. I also have some pretty strong opinions about most things, and none of them are based on, “Because so-and-so said so.” If a punishment is threatened for a given action, instead of being automatically deterred, I will instead factor the punishment into the price of the action. If I decide that I will come out with a net win, I’ll do the action anyway. E.g., if I eat this entire chocolate cake by myself without sharing, I won’t be allowed any desserts ever again. However, since this chocolate cake was made by God Himself and it tastes like ambrosia, never eating another sweet thing again is a price that I’m willing to pay.
The idiot solution towards someone such as myself is to simply amp up the punishments so that I won’t consider them worth it. If I buy this 50 cent candy bar, I’ll get ten lashings with a cane. Hm . . . The big glaring problem with such a course of action is that in making the size of the punishment not fit the size of the crime, we would cross the line into abuse, especially considering that the price I’m willing to pay for things can be quite unpredictable — I just might go for the candy bar anyway. I would also start lying about my actions and fighting back, because I have a pretty solid idea of what constitutes justice, and I’m not about to let myself suffer any unfairness if I can do something about it. I’ve never been good at meekly turning the other cheek.
My husband respects that I’m capable of making my own judgment calls, and lets me make my own choices. Being the leader does not mean that he has to control every nitpicky action I take, and he doesn’t feel threatened when I don’t show any remorse for misbehavior — he understands that I weighed the matter out in my mind then did it because I needed to. He knows that I’m not trying to undermine him. He also knows that I’m a very thoughtful person, and that I do my best to uplift him and our children; if God ever did give us a chocolate cake, I’d be the one ensuring that everyone gets a slice. By letting me make choices and accept the consequences in small matters, he is showing how much he trusts me to do the right thing when it really matters.