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Cracked Eggs and Thunderstorms and Popped Frogs

cracked-brown-egg11-200x300A Journey to Becoming a Godly Wife

It all started with a cracked egg. My husband and I have been married for three years. He had never been married, while this is my second marriage. Even marrying older, we still have those newlywed moments where we learn something new about each other or encounter a new trial to overcome. One of the first times my groom and I went grocery shopping together we happened to need eggs. No big deal, right? I watched in amusement as my husband picked up a carton of eggs, opened it, and began to pick up each egg one by one to inspect them for cracks. “Oh, Brian!” I proclaimed, “You do not need to go through all of that!” I snatched the eggs from his hands, glanced over the eggs, snapped the lid shut and placed them in the cart. He did not argue, and we continued our shopping until it was time to check out. Never before and never since have I witnessed a clerk open my egg carton to examine my eggs, but as she did—she found a cracked egg. Simultaneously as she was proudly pointing out her find to us I was sending her an urgent mental message: “I will pay you $100 if you shut that lid (and your mouth) and just let me toss the cracked egg!!” Her mental message receiver was down that day. She had another clerk grab us new eggs while she continued to check us out. All the while, my husband wore a triumphant smile. As we walk out of the store, we both erupt in laughter as I proclaim that I cannot believe that happened. Freak incident…

Several months later we invited my mother to attend an annual art festival in St. Charles, Missouri. We drove up on Friday evening and decided to preview the show for the couple of hours it was still open and planned to really hit it hard on Saturday. The skies were cloudy which helped the August temperature considerably. My husband is a bit of a weather nerd and consulting the radar on his smart phone informed us that there was a storm to the west of us and coming our way. Duly noted, we continued to browse the festival. Every ten or fifteen minutes my husband would advise us that the storm was getting closer and give us an ETA (that is nerd talk for “estimated time of arrival”). We continue to browse, getting further and further away from where we parked our car. During one of his ETA reports, I replied, “Oh, Brian! We are not going to melt from a few raindrops!!” He did not argue, but continued to monitor the weather radar until finally he said that the storm was probably ten minutes away and looked like it might be fairly strong. Looking around at the ominously blackened skies and winds that were picking up, we decided to walk back to the car.

As we passed the entertainment pavilion, folding chairs began to blow over. I think you can see where this is going. We started running towards the car, my husband had just unlocked the door when the heavens opened up to pour on us. My mom, in the back seat, piped up, “Wow! He had that timed pretty good!!” I am fuming in the front seat sending mental messages to my mother: “Shut up, Mother! You are not helping!” Her mental message receiver was down that day. If you have never seen a Midwest thunderstorm, you probably would have been terrified, and even I was a little concerned as the tornado sirens (of course) began wailing as we pulled out of the parking lot towards our hotel. I could not believe that this had happened! I mean, really??

Two weeks ago, after coming home from evening errands, my husband pulled our car into our garage. While the garage door was open, a frog hopped into the garage. I am not afraid of frogs, but this one startled me, and I gasped. Brian saw the frog and quickly went to action trying to shoo him back outside. Instead, the frog jumped over his foot and underneath my car, also parked in the garage. I immediately had images of forgetting all about the frog and having him jump at me in the morning as I readied to leave for work. The frog had to go. Brian proclaimed that if he tried to back my car out of the garage to get the frog he would run over the little guy, and asked me if I really wanted that to happen. I didn’t, but I was also pretty sure the frog would jump out of the way of moving car tires. “Oh, Brian!” I exclaimed, “You won’t run over him, and if you do, we can use the tile scraper to get him off the floor!!” I cannot emphasize enough here that I really, really thought the chances of Brian running over the frog was next to nil—surely the little guy would move out of the way of a moving vehicle. Brian did not argue, climbed into my car, and began to back out of the garage. I didn’t see the frog for quite some time and was beginning to think he had already hopped somewhere else not to be found when all of the sudden there was a deafening “POP!!!!!!!” And I do mean, “pop.” It was gross—it really was.

I had never heard a frog pop, but apparently with enough weight placed on them that is exactly what they do. I watched my gentle husband’s face fall. Immediately I began to send mental messages to the frog: “Please be alive! Don’t be popped!!” His mental message receiver was down that day—presumably crushed in the “Frog Popping Incident of 2014” (as it has come to be known in our house). I was right about one thing; the tile scraper came in very handy that night. Ok, time for Rhonda to deal with these messages that God has been trying to send her…

What do all of these incidents have in common? In all three occurrences my husband tried to advise me, and I thwarted his guidance. Never was Brian unkind, impatient, or controlling—yet each time I chose my own way (to my own peril) rather than trusting my husband whom God has placed in authority over me. I do not know about you, but I know it is time for me to listen to God regarding the subject of submission. I want to understand why it is part of His plan and what are the consequences when I continually buck against it. I suspect those consequences affect me, my husband, my family, and maybe even my community. Join me as we spread this discussion out over a couple weeks. Pray with me that God will show us (me) how to know and love Him more through what He reveals to us (me). I will be praying for you and I covet your prayers as well. Until next time…

Published inGraceful Things


  1. Your story really painted a vivid picture that applies spiritually and naturally. It reminds me of what we sometimes do to the Lord. When he gently speaks to us, we sometimes ignore his voice. If there is no protest, we just go on our merry way until he has to either yell at us or allow us to go along in our own way and reap the result of not listening. This is definitely something to think about.

  2. Rhonda Maydwell Rhonda Maydwell

    Thank you, Nikkele. If you read the next installment of “Cracked Eggs,” I think you will see that submission in marriage teaches us to submit to God. It is all a trust thing… and luckily for us, God is all about the grace thing! Particularly lucky to me, God has given me a husband who is also full of grace… and patience… and kindness… and love! As you may have guessed from my story, I have often ignored the gentle voice of God. Through my marriage I am learning to listen and trust both my husband and my God. Thank you for reading my post (I know it was a little long). God bless!

  3. Jackie Jackie

    I loved it; with hardy laughter. GOD is so clever…He allowed you (us) to realize it doesn’t have to be a storm. The gentle nudges will do fine! I really enjoyed your post.

  4. I will be looking forward to reading your next installment!

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