Overcoming resentment in marriage: a Christmas Air Bnb Tale
It all began when we had the genius idea to get our house ready to post as an Air bnb by the time Christmas came….
I was skeptical this was possible at all, based on how disheveled things seemed in our house. We had moved in August, and wow. It takes a while to get settled. Then, there is just the simple maintenance of a decently clean house, not including tackling random problem areas, such as the top of the fridge or dresser. Or the fact that the, ‘nursery,’ has been much more of a holding area for random totes and Walmart bags full of the dregs of our old house (truly the most painful part of moving— ‘why is Grace’s Baptismal candle in here with the some screwdrivers and broken candle holders?!).
We had planned on getting it ready to Airbnb eventually. First of all, it would give us a little more freedom for Brian to take days off here and there to offset his income. Secondly, wouldn’t it be great to have our home in the condition that things are clean and neat and ready for people to come stay? Third, we enjoy hosting and offering hospitality; its just kind of a fun endeavor.
Point number two gets skipped over quite easily. Yes, of course, I want a clean house. Let’s do it. This will force us to organize things and put stuff away, not be cluttered, etc. Until it becomes the day before people are set to come to your house for Christmas weekend and there is a cloud of overwhelm as threatening to my mental health as it is to my dreams of spending quality time reading aloud with my children. They are set in front of a screen babysitter so that I can get something done without them making a mess. I am in that frozen panic mode— the one where you know there is so much to do, but it seems some of us have the unfortunate biological reaction to neither fight nor flight, but to simply freeze, wide eyes glassy like a hunted animal.
It is worth noting that earlier in this same week, we also had to get an actual babysitter so Brian and I could go do a final deep clean of our long term rental house, as we had a new family moving in right after we were to get back from Christmas. Brian insisted it wouldn’t be hard to clean and would take a couple hours, max, if we just worked together and scrubbed some things down on Tuesday evening. Who needs to hire a cleaner? I, of course, begged to differ, as the one who was a bit more astute at seeing all of the little things that would need scrubbing, dusting, sanitizing, and polishing. At the end of the evening, I believe it was the least satisfying time I have ever been told I was right. The following day I lugged myself and my 28 week pregnant body to do the remaining few hours of cleaning, while paying someone to watch our children.
So, basically, I was tired of cleaning. And, in turn, just tired! The gifts were overwhelming, the cleaning, the packing and laundry to prepare to travel. All of it. I was supposed to be preparing my soul for the birth of Jesus in a few short days, and it felt much less spiritual that I would have preferred. And I was frustrated at the mismatch between my expectations of Advent versus reality.
Every minute was supposed to look like this. That’s realistic, right?
Advent Expectation
-Calm, quiet evenings (okay, this was unrealistic even without all of the cleaning)
-Reading aloud by candlelight to my children
-Peacefully working our way through Advent calendars and Jesse tree ornaments, recounting the salvation history leading up to Jesus.
-Festive, family movie nights
-Gifts done before Thanksgiving, so far less stress
It wasn’t this festive until December 27th.
Hot chocolate. Picture appears more festive than how the actual moment felt, now that I think of it… “MOM, I WANT SOME MORE! ME TOO! ME TOO!”
Advent Reality
-Brian working later than usual throughout December
-Rushed evenings and yelling at children, which really helps them calm down and get ready to sleep….
-Almost zero Jesse tree ornaments and Advent calendar characters discussed
-The kids watching the Grinch by themselves way too many times.
-90% of gifts bought by Thanksgiving, but the remaining 10% of indecisiveness causing the same amount of stress as if I hadn’t done any prep.
Really wanted a garland here, but such is life.
Although one window did get festive, which was a win.
In all of this, the inner dialogue begins hopeful. I was trying! Trying to maintain a positive outlook and to not allow the circumstance to rob me of joy and peace. Keep calm and carry on! At first, I did have some clarity that a lot of the negative emotions I was experiencing were based out of fear— specifically, the fear of not pleasing others and meeting their expectations. “What if ____ doesn’t like the gift we got them? What if our new renters aren’t happy with something in the house? What if our home isn’t [clean, festive, perfect] enough and we get a bad review on Air bnb?” It was good to place these in the truth, in their rightful place. All of these things definitely could happen, and yet I was free of them. None of these things could touch me. A very, very good fruit of prayer.
But in my fatigue, the fight to maintain a healthy and holy perspective based on the actual truth of the situation began to fade. And you know what happens when a married person is experiencing negativity and suffering? There is a little voice that immediately points a finger to the only other adult nearby— it is HIS fault! The voice of the accuser. In the garden of Eden, what is the first thing Adam says when confronted with his sin? It was her! She made me do it! Whether something big or small, I find this tendency in myself that is in continual need of being checked, and I don’t think I am alone here.
A couple of Lents ago I gave up complaining. I realized from this exercise that blatant, flat out complaining was much less of an issue than complaining in my inner dialogue. And, specifically, complaining about my husband! So often when something negative happens my initial gut reaction is, “UGH, BRIAN!” This is especially insidious because so often it is for something super small and insignificant. A piece of laundry on the floor. “UGH, C’MON!” Coming home later than usual because of a pitstop at Costco. “Don’t you know it is 5:30 pm and I am almost LITERALLY DYING!?” Anything that happens to me: “GAH! BRIAN!”
Of course, most of these things are tiny, and I make so many of these tiny infractions on a daily basis that I know Brian overlooks and forgives me for. And the most enlightening realization was that many, many times, whatever I was suffering at the time had absolutely nothing to do with my husband, but that he was simply someone to point to. Because marriage.
When I first saw this, I have to admit it was quite humorous. Especially, the, “I’m FINE.”
But, it made me wonder— how did Mary experience this situation? I don’t believe Mary, the Holy Mother of God was filled with resentment and stonewalled Joseph. But did she struggle at all to accept these less than ideal circumstances? How would it be to experience marriage without the tendency to blame your spouse for things that happen, as surely Mary experienced?
So it was that my positive interior struggle began to wear, and with it, the grumbling against Brian for thinking this was a great idea. It was 10:45 pm, December 22nd. We were both in a flurry of cleaning, as the following day we would need to pack up to travel for Christmas, and our home would have to be presentable to people staying. Not just book club clean, but the clean where people will be looking in your fridge and microwave and using your shower. And oh yes, the kicker: Brian would be working all day, so unable to help until the very last minutes before we should leave. “I shouldn’t be up this late. This is too stressful. I am pregnant! This stress is not good for me! This is just too much. I don’t know why we decided to do this. I can’t believe Brian thought this was a good idea. I HATE CLEANING.” Etc. etc. etc. self pitying interior banter and rumination.
In theory, I could use a hundred arguments in my mind to justify my position— that I was right and had an injustice done to me. That this other person was making life harder. But, just then, the moment I needed occurred. What really helped more than anything else against this resentment was love. During my retreat earlier in the Advent season (more on that in another post) I reflected at length on the simple fact that I was called to love people, and specifically, my people— the ones who were given to me. In this moment of cleaning the bathroom, I took a deep breath and God’s grace provided for me.
“Okay, Lord. I don’t want to do this. I don’t like this. I need your help. But, I want to love the people who will be staying here. I am cleaning this toilet for the people who will come to stay at our home over Christmas. May you be with them, give them safe travels, bless them and be near to them as they are in our home. I love them. I am loving them in this.”
In this one moment of openness and surrender I could feel my stress and anxiety and angst melt away. A new love and understanding also came into my heart for Brian, as I could more clearly see how he, too, was experiencing the grind of this week. How much easier would it be to go through this situation with my friend at my side, rather than thinking he was somehow against me?
Love drives out fear, and as it turns out, resentment as well. The grace to love is there at every moment, if only we are open to receive.
As a postscript, and happy wrap-up to this little tale, we got done cleaning at 1:59pm, as our guests were set to arrive at 2:00. We noticed a car outside, and sure enough, it was our very prompt guests, so we got to say a somewhat odd and humorous hello to them through car windows on our way out. We arrived back home 3 days later to an immaculate home, a note of thanks, and a nearly full pan of leftover lasagna, which we happily ate for several meals that week. God is good, and so are people. And, as for Brian, it was never really about him at all. We both had made these decisions together, and thus, when I began to be less resentful in general about my situation, there was nothing for me to point at him. My resentment was only directed towards him because he had happened to be the person who is always there. And for the fact that he is always there, I am so so very grateful.
