Lately I’ve been cognizant of my mouth and what comes out of it—in particular, to my husband. This is our sixth year of full-time RVing, and we have been in each other’s company every single day, nearly 24/7. He’s really the only person on the planet I could do this lifestyle with; even so, sometimes I’d like to tell him to jump in the lake.
We have about 560 square feet of living space in our motorhome, and we get along just fine most of the time. Not that we haven’t had our moments. We have. Especially when bad weather confines us indoors for too long. But 44 years of togetherness (accentuated by a few years living alternative lifestyles: first a boat, now an RV) has taught us both a thing or two about cohabitation in tight quarters.
I’m grateful I’m getting better at stopping myself before saying something I’ll regret.🙏🏽 I’m grateful when I pause and consider if whatever I’m concerned with now will matter in five years. It probably won’t.🙏🏽 I’m grateful when I choose positive ways of coping with frustration. That usually means some sort of outdoor activity: a bike ride, a walk, washing the car, tending to the plants (even better: pulling weeds!)🙏🏽
I’m also grateful that I’ve learned to not fan the flames of discord by talking about it to anyone who would listen.🙏🏽 (Not that I’m not ever tempted to.) It’s taken years to learn that it doesn’t do any good.
Always, live. And learn.🙏🏽
In the multitude of words sin is not lacking. But he who restrains his lips is wise. ~Proverbs 10:19
