The Problem With Praise

Amanda was pretty excited to find out her husband, Jack, was reading the new bestselling book on marriage enrichment, A Praise Centered Marriage. It wasn’t that their relationship was bad or anything. It just wasn’t always as good as Amanda had hoped it would be.

Her hopes seemed to all come true when, that next Tuesday evening, Jack looked at her across the dinner table and said, “You are wonderful. You are simply the best. I love everything about you. You fill my life with joy.”

What more could a woman want out of a marriage? At least, that’s what Amanda thought six months ago when the process started that would eventually ruin their marriage.

Jack was nothing if not confident and consistent. The book had assured him the key to making any marriage better, from “good to great” as the book repeatedly claimed, lay in claiming the power of praising your wife and all the blessing that would bring into the marriage.

So, the next evening, when they sat at the dinner table, Amanda was actually pleased when Jack looked over at her, smiled lovingly, and said, “You are wonderful. You are simply the best. I love everything about you. You fill my life with joy.”

The sense of strangeness actually first surfaced four days later. It was a Thursday evening, which was when Amanda normally went online and checked their debit card spending to make sure there were no surprises. She noticed the new Bose Home Theater system purchase. It was not a small expenditure.

“Jack, what is this all about?”

“You are wonderful. You are simply the best. I love everything about you. You fill my life with joy.”

“Did you buy these speakers?”

“Of course. There are genuine blessings to those who learn how to praise.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“You are wonderful. You are simply the best. I love everything about you. You fill my life with joy.”

Amanda decided to just let it drop. I mean, people would think she was nuts if she complained that her husband’s lavish praise was beginning to irritate her a little.

But, the sense that something was wrong didn’t go away. It just got worse.

About a week and a half later, Amanda had promised to go out shopping with her mom. Jack knew it was on the calendar. She was sure she had even mentioned it the day before. But, seven o’clock came and no Jack. She hadn’t arranged a sitter, and she wasn’t about to leave Katherine by herself, even though her daughter kept insisting that nine years old was plenty grownup. So, Amanda waited. And waited. Her mom called twice. At first, Amanda did her best to defend her husband.

“Maybe he got tied up at work? Or might have been in a fender bender?”

She couldn’t for the life of her imagine what Jack could be doing on a Monday evening. Even as she let the question firm up in her mind, she knew the answer. Jack had to be at his sister and brother-in-law’s house watching Monday Night Football. Nothing else made sense. She was furious.

Jack came through the front door about 10:30. Amanda was sitting at the kitchen table, fuming.

“Jack, you knew I had something scheduled this evening. What were you thinking?”