A smattering of mattering

My husband and I had a big conflict today. On the surface, it looked like the issue was about a couch--whether to look at it with an eye to buying or not. But deep down, it was about mattering. Do I matter to him, or do I not?

How does one know whether they matter to someone else? What is the sign of being significant? If you're itching to leave the room, do you really want to hear what I'm saying? If you see I'm in pain but make no move to comfort me, do you really care? What if you do these things repeatedly, day after day, year after year? Do they say I don't matter?

Do the small things count or just the big ones? Should I know I matter to my husband because he raised the child of my infidelity as his own and continues to stay with me despite more attractive options elsewhere?

Does it matter if I matter to him? Is this really important? Where does the mattering really matter? What if I never matter to anyone? Does that matter? Where is my significance?

I know I matter to God. He sent his angels to watch over me earlier this week. Last weekend He filled me with so much joy I thought I would burst. He has chosen to use me time and again for His purposes when He could easily toss me aside and use someone else. He has spoken to me in a myriad of ways and, when I was too dirty to be attractive to anyone, he cleaned me and made me his own.

If I matter to God, does anything else matter? Can I accept a smattering of mattering from everyone else?