"Forget it," I nearly said out loud, "I'm so sure! The one time I can finally triumph, the one time I can finally be right, You want me to deny myself the victory and just let it all go? He'll think he was right all along, and then he won't change. And even more-so... Do You seriously want me to reward such bad behavior by baking the Ogre a cake? Ogres don't deserve cake! They deserve...well, they deserve flies and toads, slimy sludge-filled bogs and other horrible things."  This seemed like a really good argument, and I was pretty proud about my quick thinking.  But then that inner voice came again, and it asked "And what do Hags deserve?"

Yikes. So I found my cake pan and begrudgingly set about the task. I found the flour, I found the powdered chocolate, I cracked the eggs, and as I began melting the butter, something else started to soften. To my surprise, a memory of love, and of vows and of thankfulness to God for His mercy on such a sinner as myself began to edge its way in. Despite my 'rightness', despite my hurt feelings and despite my plans to destroy the man who hurt me, God used the simple act of serving my husband in obedience to dissolve my wicked agenda.

Obedience always brings reward. Soon, I began loving my husband, and a desire to please him welled up. God blessed the tiny shred of obedience that I dredged up, and He grew it. And it grew and grew and grew. As the rich smell of chocolate cake filled the kitchen and warmed my home, a new plan formed. A plan motivated by the same grace and love that God offered me when He died for my depraved ugliness. The battle plans were shredded.

My children were called out, and I got on my knees and repented for being such a rotten example, and begged God to make me a better teacher. And then we wiped our eyes and set ourselves to work. The recipe book came out and a full course dinner was designed. Candles were rummaged out of dusty drawers. A white lace tablecloth donned the dining room table. The children were employed at setting the house in order. Toilets were cleaned, walls were washed, and floors were scrubbed, while a sinful wife, desiring to obey her Lord stepped out in faith, and arranged a home filled with peace, and worthy to be enjoyed by a King.

The children were fed and then sent to bed a little earlier as my new plan for the evening continued to grow. I was praising God for the precious gift of my husband. I was brimming with memories of when and why we first fell in love. And I was humbled at the thought of being such a hindrance to the man who truly did his best to serve our family. I marched upstairs, slapped on some make up and yanked out the "WOW!" dress from the back of the closet. And then I went to the table, sat facing the door, and waited anxiously, and nervously, for him to come home. No doubt he had used his time to prepare for the battle I promised. Finally, I heard the keys at the lock and sat up a bit straighter. It was him.