CONFESSION:

When I first got married, I was totally and completely and utterly 100% terminally PIG-HEADED.   Think I’m exaggerating?  Ha!  Think again.

<—- Here’s my Wedding Day Selfie.

Yup.  That’s me there, folks.  Posing for the camera — in all my swine glory — the very day Steve Judd said to me “I do”  when he should have said, “LORD I don’t know WHAT I was thinking!” and instantly AM-SCRAYED out of there!

(Am-Scrayed:  That’s Pig Latin for scrammed, for all you non-swine, English-only speaking folk out there.)

No, the camera doesn’t lie, darling, and neither can I:  The day I married I was a real case.  The mother of all Pig-Heads.  Summa Cum Laude, Valedictorian, # 1 Pig-Head.

(Nice lipstick though dontcha think?)

So where does this Pig Tale end, you ask?  It ends (most mercifully) in the O.R. – GOD’S OWN O.R./Operating Room – wherein one afternoon about a decade ago, He laid me down on His surgical table and in the space of one hour did a total HEAD TRANSPLANT on me!  Yes, a miracle HEAD TRANSPLANT!  And I’m here to testify of it, and give glory to God.

So have a seat, friend.  And listen up.  As this is one Pig Tale that could save your life…

Literally.

How The Pig Got Her Head Transplant

 

Once upon a time, on a blistering hot and sunny afternoon…Saturday, June 18, 1994, to be precise…Steve Judd said “I DO” to the Pig-Head.  (Moi.)

Poor dear man.

Never knew what he was getting into.  He actually thought I was beautiful when he saw me coming down that aisle toward him.  [Amazing what a good lipstick can do, isn’t it?]

Of course in short order, the lipstick came off, and the veil, and oh boy oh boy, was that a FUN first year of marriage!  [Just keeping it real here, folks.]

For the truth is, although I certainly did dearly love my Steve, for years I confess I didn’t really *listen* to him.  I mean, not like I should have listened to him — with that full-on respect Steve absolutely deserved as a man of God, not to mention my God-given, God-ordained, Christian husband.

You see, I’d been single for so long — not marrying till the ripe old age of 42. Consequently (not an excuse here, just stating the facts) once I finally did marry, I found myself resisting Steve’s new leadership role in my life.  Preferring instead to stick to the ole “just-me-and-Jesus” mode that had worked “just fine” for decades, thank you very much.

Of course, needless to say, that’s not how Christ-centered marriage works!

And thus, in due course, no surprise:  That faulty dynamic changed.  Big time.  Jesus saw to that, honey.

Oh yeah.

One day as I’m sitting there, writing along in my journal per usual, just chatting away with the Lord — suddenly, very suddenly, He dispensed a bit of  instruction for the Pig-Head. And I DO quote:

“When Steve speaks to you, don’t just shrug off what he says,

because he is a man after my own heart, so when he speaks,

he is speaking for Me.  So listen to him.  Don’t shrug it off.”

I listened.  Took note.  Recorded word for word exactly what the Spirit was saying —  then walked away and somehow promptly forgot every single word of it!  (Seriously.)

Horrible.  Just horrible.

Then a few days later, Steve said to me, “Did you ever call the doctor about that place on your leg?”

The Pig replied, “No.”  (Thinking to myself, I can’t be bothered with the hassle.)

For weeks I had noticed a scaly crusty place near my ankle that I couldn’t account for.  I had mentioned it to Steve, and he had said numerous times, “Go get it checked out.”  But I didn’t pay attention because to me it was just some dry crusty area, maybe eczema…. whatever.  But no big, right?  So I had less than no interest in calling up the doctor and going through the hassle of appointment-making, wasting my time only to have her hand me a tube of cream at the end and tell me to rub it on my leg for the next 10 days to moisturize my winter skin.  Right?

Oh yeah.  I already had it all figured out, didn’t I?  Already diagnosed the situation, genius that I am.  Diagnosis?   “Winter skin.”  No big.  Save yourself the time and hassle, Cinnie.  Blow it off.

Just call me Dr. Cinnie.

Then when I mentioned the spot yet again one day to Steve, wondering what it was, Steve responded again — this time with decidedly less patience, as he pushed back immediately in total frustration:

“Did you call the doctor?  I keep telling you to call the doctor!”  

Unbelievably, ONCE AGAIN reflex started to take over when I felt my shoulders begin to rise in a typical “eh, no big deal” brush-off of Steve’s concern — only to suddenly catch myself mid-shrug, as the words of my King just a few days earlier came flooding back to my soul with great power and conviction:

“Cinnie!  When Steve speaks to you,  

DON’T SHRUG IT OFF! 

Because he’s a man after my own heart so when he speaks to you

HE’S SPEAKING FOR ME!”

Woah!  At that moment, as the sudden memory of God’s convicting words burned hot in my heart, I don’t mind telling you I responded in great Godly fear whereby I repented instantly, jumped up from my seat, and called the skin doctor to make an appointment.

And thank God I did.

Yes, thank God for His mighty conviction — AND for my husband’s wise counsel. For nothing prepared me for what the doctor would say to me that day I finally got to her office in obedience to my husband.

Sitting in the examining room, after careful analysis of my leg with gloved hands under a black light and an eyepiece attached to her head, the doctor finally looked up, removed her gloves, and announced: “It’s a good thing you came in…”

Why?

Because, as it turns out, the “mysterious” scaly crusty place on my leg was nothing less than squamous cells.  And if left unchecked, the doctor said, “It could turn to cancer in as little as three months, and even become terminal.” 

WHHHAT?!

Blown away, and with trembling awe, I openly shared with the doctor what the Lord had said to me in private about my husband.  NOT to shrug off his words, or his counsel. Because Steve was a man after His own heart, so when he spoke he was actually and literally speaking for God Himself!

Hearing me, the doctor’s head shot up from the floor where she was kneeling beside me at this point, burning off the squamous cells.  At my words, she stopped.  Placed her hand on my arm. Looked directly into my eyes.  And with the most sober expression, said right into my face:

“LISTEN TO YOUR HUSBAND!”

 

And oh honey, I do now….believe me…I DO!

And that, dear friends, is How the Pig Got Her Head Transplant.  And my selfie was forever transformed…

From This:

To This:

Sure, the lipstick remains the same.  😀 😀  But the head is sporting a new look!   As I have now forever swapped out my Pig Head for my Godly Wife Head….remaining all ears to my husband’s counsel at all times.  Cuz now I know for sure:  Listening to my husband isn’t just God’s command over my life – it can also save my life!  All glory to God!  Pig-Headed no more!

Psssst!  Hey…shhh!

Don’t tell Steve! But…

It’s a year later now…

I was just sitting in our living room on this freezing cold winter day, dearly enjoying having my feet propped up right next to our little space heater to get my tootsies warm.  Then Steve — ever Mr. Careful —  walked into the living room, saw me, and said,  “It’s probably not a good idea to have your slippers so close to the heater.  They could catch on fire.”

Oh brother, I thought.  Talk about being overly concerned. He’s always so paranoid. Like my slippers are really gonna catch on fire, yeah right.  

Just a few minutes later, I smelled something.  Then I saw something.  A little wiff of smoke coming up from my left slipper! OUCH! The slipper was lit up, and smoking!

I quickly threw off the slipper, put out the embers, fanned the smelly, smokey air about me, and removed the incriminating evidence to the garage for it to air out!

Oh Lord, forgive me.  I did it again!  When will I ever get it through my thick scull to just listen to the man?! Help me to do better!  Guess I have a little swine left in me yet!

Time to read the scriptures below and give myself a refresher course!

“In the same way, you wives must accept the authority of your husbands.”  ~ I Peter 3:1a (NLT)

 

^{22 “}For wives, this means submit to your husbands as to the Lord. ²³ For a husband is the head of his wife as Christ is the head of the church. He is the Savior of his body, the church. ²⁴ As the church submits to Christ, so you wives should submit to your husbands in everything.

 

^{25 “}For husbands, this means love your wives, just as Christ loved the church. He gave up his life for her ²⁶ to make her holy and clean, washed by the cleansing of God’s word.^{[a] 27} He did this to present her to himself as a glorious church without a spot or wrinkle or any other blemish. Instead, she will be holy and without fault. ²⁸ In the same way, husbands ought to love their wives as they love their own bodies. For a man who loves his wife actually shows love for himself. ²⁹ No one hates his own body but feeds and cares for it, just as Christ cares for the church.³⁰ And we are members of his body.

 

^{31 “}As the Scriptures say, “A man leaves his father and mother and is joined to his wife, and the two are united into one.”^{[b] 32} This is a great mystery, but it is an illustration of the way Christ and the church are one. ³³ So again I say, each man must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband.”

                                                                    ~ Ephesians 5:22-33 (NLT)