I love to read. Really love to read. Words and I just get along. (Not like numbers. We don’t get along — at all.) Words are some of my closest friends. When I have free time (which isn’t very often), I love to read. Give me a novel and I will devour it. I know this so well about myself that I refuse to even glance at the fiction section in the library. Otherwise, I will become consumed with a book until the last page. My children could ask me anything while I’m reading and I would consent. It’s scary, actually. Often, I don’t even hear them talking to me. And since I know this about myself, I must exercise extreme self-control in this area. It’s a standing joke with my husband about the stack of books on my nightstand, but better that they are there than in my hands.

Last week, I let my guard down. I was deceived into thinking I could handle just. one. book. I had several hours of free time . . . and there was this book I’d received for my birthday almost 2 years ago. I’d had to put it downstairs in the guest bedroom so that I could resist it. But I knew it was there. It was calling to me. I could almost smell it. So, like a dieter sneaking chocolate when no one is looking, I curled up in a corner of the living room with my book of fiction . . . and indulged. I couldn’t put it down. In a few hours, I’d read more than half of the 500-page book. I was addicted. For the next week, I worked my schedule around time for reading. I’d reward myself with a chapter for doing the dishes or folding a basket of laundry. I planned free reading time for the kids, so that I could read. And though I managed to not neglect my normal responsibilities (like showering or feeding my family), it was always there . . . beckoning me.

And then the thought occurred to me . . . why don’t other things consume me like this? Why don’t I get this absorbed in Scripture, for example? (Feeling convicted yet?) Or, shall we get straight to the point, why am I not this obsessed with studying my husband? He’s certainly an interesting topic. And he would gladly tell me anything I wanted to know. You could say he’s an open book. (Sorry, had to do it.) I should be preoccupied with him, his likes and dislikes and preferences . . . his favorites and desires and pleasures . . . his concerns and struggles and challenges. (Can you tell I’m feeling a little convicted in this area?)

And I do think about my guy a lot, especially when he’s around. But do I put concerted time and effort into thinking about intentionally blessing him or have we been together so long that I’m just pretty good at flying by the seat of my pants? I already know most of the list above, so why do I need to continue studying? I’m a Doug Expert! Right? The truth is, just as I am changing and growing, he is, too. And there is always more to learn about your marriage and your husband . . . no matter how long you’ve been together.

It may not be reading for you . . . it may be shopping . . . or surfing the net . . . or organizing your home . . . or even really good things — like your kids . . . anything that you get really excited about. Compare that enthusiasm to how you feel about putting effort into studying your husband. Are you ever that excited about your marriage . . . or your man?