The Measure of a Man

My husband turns 30 today. Over the past few weeks we’ve had some really great conversations about this past decade of his life, what he wants to achieve in the next, and have laughed about some of the more ridiculous memories and moments from his life. I have 3 takeaways from reflecting on his life:

1. There is a lot of wilderness in your 20’s but it can be a fun wilderness if you’re in it with the right people. Your 20’s are so often about trying to figure out who you are yet it makes it challenging when you graduate college in your early 20’s but it takes you several more years to actually shake out what you want to do for a living. If you’re in your 20’s and still confused as to what the heck you’re doing with your life – you are in such good company! Just don’t assume it’ll never work out. My best advice would be to try stuff. Just try it. If nothing else, you’ll figure out your strengths and weaknesses through trial and error. Also – personality and strength assessment tests are my FAVORITE! John and I have taken several and they are so helpful in affirming your best and worst qualities (everybody’s got both let’s not pretend otherwise).

2. If you can look back on mistakes you made without an overwhelming sense of guilt or shame, you’re becoming comfortable with your humanity and the grace of God. John made mistakes in his 20s, just like you did/are doing! But what I love about remembering them with him is remembering how he handled them. Sometimes life is messy and finding your way out of the mess can be difficult – but man, I’m so proud with how John handled not only mistakes but real challenges in his 20s.

3. At the end of the day, it’s people we remember. People who shape us and break us and build us up. While talking about many memories from John’s first 3 decades of life, so many of them involved people that I am so incredibly grateful are in his life. Men and women who know how to get John to laugh, who don’t hate on him when he cries, and who value him as a person. No matter how old you are, strive to be someone who errs on the side of loving people. You may find yourself getting hurt more often than those who choose to close themselves off from others but OH will your life be so much richer and deeper. We are all flawed. We are prideful, overly judgemental, and ultimately insanely insecure. So work on being comfortable enough in your own skin that you are willing to allow other people into the softer, more vulnerable and most precious places of your heart. When you find people who know you and love you in spite of yourself, you are richly RICHLY blessed.

Last night John and I watched the GOP Presidential debate together (which counts as part of my birthday gift for him, by the way. 2 HOURS OF MY LIFE.) While parts of the debate were entertaining, the overall impression I got was desperation. Men who are desperate to be the best, most perfect, most powerful, most polished man on stage. I mean, I get it. You’re presenting yourself as a candidate to be President of the United States. It’s a very big deal and you have to be confident. But there is a difference between being confident in who you are as a man versus being confident in how unreliable and petty everybody else is. When I looked over at John while we were watching this debacle (half giggling and half shaking our heads in disbelief) I was struck with how truly and completely grateful I am for him. For the man that he is.

More than just turning 30 (age ain’t nothin but a number) and more than just having fancy bachelor’s and master’s degrees and more than just the money in our bank account – I have a man who is immeasurably more than I could have asked for. He has integrity, he lives out of his convictions when it’s hard and unpopular, he weeps for people who are hurting, he gets so much life from encouraging people. When he sees something you’re doing well – he loves celebrating that and challenging you to take it to the next level. He’s my biggest cheerleader! He has embraced his role as daddy with gusto – and Samuel is soaking it all in.

My husband is a man I am proud of and a man I am crazy in love with. I have only been in his life for 8 of the 30 years and I am grateful to every person – family and friend – who has loved him and encouraged him to be who he is along every step of his 30 years.

I love you, John! 30 is the new 40! Oh wait.. woops. Whatever. Any decade looks good on you, babe! Just remember, I will ALWAYS be younger. ❤

6 Years

6 years ago today I was staring at a pair of oak doors through a white veil with my dad standing proudly next to me, smiling so widely and brightly it was rivaled only by my own goofy grin. I nervously chuckled as I heard our friends and family settle into their seats and the organist began to pipe out one of our favorite hymns, “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing.” A memory briefly flitted across my mind as the doors opened. You had slipped a note to me during one of the Mason CRU meetings as we had all sang this song together. It read: “Come thou fount! He has given me every blessing and now he has given me you! :-)”

I squeezed my bouquet as my heart threatened to escape out of my chest and I walked toward you. Toward this life we have pieced together. Toward promises of “for better or for worse” and toward a groom I was certain was about to pass out as he nervously smiled and locked/unlocked his knees at the altar.

There we stood. “The surprise couple of the year” as our pastor and friend had stated during his message. What would come of a union between Mr. Quaker Oats and Miss Froot Loops? Only time would tell, I guess. We prayed together, exchanged rings, sealed our union with a kiss (or two 😉 ), and walked out of the church as Mr. & Mrs.

Today I’m staring out the kitchen windows of the first home we have ever owned, watching butterflies enjoy the flowers framing our patio and bikers and runners getting in their Saturday morning exercise on the street next door.  Our son is dancing in my womb, enjoying the chocolate chip banana pancakes we eat on most sabbath days and I’m overwhelmed with gratitude and a little bit of anxiety. A week ago you had walked into our home to find me crying at the kitchen table, looking out those same windows. I confessed that I was scared of what having a child would do to the life we had built together over these years. I like what we have now. I like our date nights and quiet sabbath mornings and spontaneous Sonic ice cream dates in the middle of the week. I like you. I like being with you and watching you get all excited when you talk about cars or when you share about having a great conversation with one of your students. I like taking obscenely long road trips with you to visit friends and family and looking up interesting places we can eat along the way while we talk about nothing and everything. I confessed that I was scared I’m going to sacrifice my marriage on the altar of my children.

You walked over to me, without missing a beat, put your hands on my shoulders and said, “It won’t leave unless we let it leave. Our relationship is gonna look different with children in the picture, but it doesn’t ever have to disappear entirely. Not unless we let it.”

So I’m taking a deep breath and surrendering to God all of my anxieties about what our next year of marriage will look like with our sweet son in the picture. I’m slowing down to remember and cherish and give thanks for the memories we’ve made and the hardships we’ve endured. I’m replacing lies with truth and I’m throwing joy in the face of fear. You still know how to rustle up the butterflies in my stomach and you’re a pro at making me unbelievably frustrated in the blink of an eye. You’re my best friend, for better or for worse. Here’s to year 7! I have no idea what it’ll be like, but I don’t want to find out with anybody but you.

I love you.

Happy Anniversary!

My Valentine is 29!

Let’s grow old together, shall we?

John —

Happy Birthday! I am so grateful to be your wife and watch you grow into someone who is becoming more like Christ. I am so grateful for the beating of your heart that pulses life into your body — and for all the times I snuggled close and just listened to it. I am so grateful for the days that have added up to another full year of life for you. 29 years! Woo! That is OLD. You are a wonderful gift to me.

Also? I know you aren’t perfect. You aren’t a perfect son, or brother or friend or husband. In your past you have said and done mean things that hurt people, you have thought bad thoughts and acted selfishly. You have been driven by insecurity, motivated by fear and pride, and consumed by the darkness of your own sin. (If you’re anxious for me to reach my point, I promise it’s coming!)

I guess I wanted to remind you of all of those things, of your own imperfections, so you can know that even though I know about them… gosh I love you times a million. I haven’t been around for all of your mistakes but after almost 6 years of marriage, I’ve been around for some of them. When it comes right down to it: I’ve seen you at your worst and ugliest and you know that. You know that because you’ve seen me in the exact same places – ugly, dark, and selfish places. Yet every morning when we wake up to tackle a new day, I look over at you and whisper a thanks to God that He has given me you.

You and all of your OCD cleaning techniques. You and all of your spreadsheets (heaven help me). You and all of your terrible jokes. You and your ability to get away with everything because of your stupid mischievous grin. (related: I’m gonna leave all the disciplining of our son to you ok?)

When I think about our friendship over the past several years, I don’t quite know how to sum it up. You don’t complete me because we’re all created in the image of God and we each have all we need by the grace of God through Jesus — with or without a spouse. You don’t complete me, but you’re slowly becoming a part of me. In some ways, the fingerprints of your love and influence in my life show up in quite obvious ways — I have trained for two half-marathons and successfully completed one! The chances of that happening without your incessant guilt trips accountability are slim to none. I’ve started using phrases and adopting some of your mannerisms; which, I’ll be honest – is creepy. Also, I haven’t turned into a bowl of ice cream! When left to my own devices, that would have probably happened within one year of graduating college. And, most obviously and recently — I’m carrying our first child! So, I mean. There’s that.

But your influence in my life goes beyond just the tangible, physical things. You inspire me by the way you live and work. You have incredible insight into the world around you and the people in it. You see needs and you solve problems and you pray for wisdom and you remind me of how important it is to have integrity, take initiative, and love people even when it’s awkward and messy. Because, most of the time, intentionally loving people IS kind of awkward.

Sometimes when we’re just kind of humming along in life, one ordinary day after another, I’ll come home to you sitting on the patio or listening to music on the couch. I’ll sit down next to you, hold your hand as our stupid cat jumps into my lap and you remind me for the millionth time, “We live like kings. God has given us way beyond what we could ask or imagine.” I know you aren’t just talking about stuff. You’re talking about our lives — the people in them, the gifts we get to share, the memories we cherish, the hard moments that have shaped us, the promises He has made to us that we always underestimate. I love when you slow down and give thanks. It never fails to teach me and challenge me.

When God gave me you, it HAS been more than I ever bargained for asked or imagined. As you begin living your 30th year of life, as we prepare for the arrival of our son, as we continue to plan and dream about the future, I will be right next to you. We move forward together, we fall backwards together, we mess up together, we forgive together, we cry together and sing together and, by the grace of God, we die together.

Happy birthday, valentine. And thank you. Thank you for loving me.

Sorry, not sorry for this. It makes me laugh every time.

 

Any House A Home – A Lesson in What Matters

We moved about a week ago and we love our new place. It’s simple, beautiful, manageable and we have all the honeymoon-feels about it. Until the water heater broke two days after we moved in (but I digress). Before we started the process of looking for a place to buy, we came up with a motto that we’ve had to remind ourselves of during these past days of living in an unpacked, somewhat hazardous environment: We can make any house a home.

It’s whatever.

I’m going to paint the current status of our home for you — we don’t have any seating in our living room. Nada. The brown fluffy monstrosity from our other place simply refused to enter despite the men’s brave efforts so it took a long walk off a short cliff (or stairwell, as it were). RIP brown couch. Recently, John was able to make the second bedroom (affectionately nicknamed the dungeon) an actual livable space where we could navigate around without tripping over a chest of drawers, pillows, or a craft cart the size of a small child (whose IS that by the way? geez!). Yet our closets are still a disaster, brimming with things that are in all the wrong places.

The dungeon. Pre-John’s ninja unpacking skills.

Sigh. Let me explain to you where my strengths lie when it comes to the unpacking process, ok? — THE FUN STUFF. By fun stuff I mean the pictures and knick knacks and fluffy feel-good things that go on the walls and shelves. This is also known as – THE LAST THINGS WE WILL UNPACK. I’m not sure if this is a strength of mine or really just something I’d rather be doing. Like dessert. Dessert is a HUGE strength of mine. I could dessert all day every day. Same way I feel about decorating the walls.

An interesting caveat to unpacking all the fun things this time around is I know I won’t be decorating with all of the picture frames I had used in our previous home. The reason is because in general, John’s mind is just more organized than mine (understatement of the year) and he’s requesting more open and clean space on the walls. Looking at the walls now, I have to admit — it does feel more sterile boring open with less stuff on them. Yet my decorating style is like walking by a wall resembling an advertisement for Hobby Lobby that is displaying every cute picture frame and wall accessory it’s ever sold… ever. On one wall.

Let me clarify – John has always graciously and lovingly encouraged me in my home-making skills. He tells me how much he loves coming home and how relaxing it is etc. So don’t get it all wrong when I tell you our decorating styles are not always simpatico. It’s totally hereditary. My mom decorates beautifully and bountifully and I picked up her gusto for knick-knackery. My mother-in-law decorates beautifully and minimally which is also sweet, and inviting.

John and I grew up in different worlds and now that we actually own a place for the first time, we’ll inevitably need to compromise on stuff. Despite our best efforts, compromise quickly translates into frequent grumbles, snorts, huffs, deep sighs, and apologies because we’re imperfect people with a measurable amount of patience and grace and we both so desperately want to have this place all put together.

🙂

Yet at the end of the day, it’s not about pictures on the wall or where we put the couch, or what kind of rug we buy. It’s about who I’m making a home with. I want to do life with him. For all of the ways he challenges me and aggravates me, and all the ways I annoy him and snarl at him, this house won’t mean a thing if we don’t agree to keep loving and liking each other.

I’m guessing the wall decor process is going to happen sometime early in the New Year so my first New Years Resolution is to let the little things go. I’m not abandoning my opinion all together, make no mistake! But I’m willing to make it work because it’s dumb to get our panties in a wad about picture frames when we could be snuggling on our imaginary couch instead. 🙂

We like being homeowners, but we love being married. No amount of picture frames or knick knacks (or lack thereof) are going to shift those priorities. When we make a home we wanna make it right – built on love, decorated in compromise, and enjoyed by all who enter it. 

Any house a home, y’all. That’s how we roll.

 

My Favorite Men Month (Part 2): Husband

This is the second of the three-part shout-out to my favorite men, feel free to check out part 1 if you wanna read about my fantabulous father.

Today, it’s all about the hubster. I never call him the hubster, it just sounded cool so I’m going with it.

Last week I posted about our four year wedding anniversary (yay!) but that post was more a recap of married life than a smooshy-googly wuvvy-dovey post about how much I love my super machismo studmuffin. Don’t worry though, this post will deliver enough happy feelings to make the Care Bears squirm. Get excited!

Man #2: Husband

We’re different, you and I. That may be one of the greatest understatements in the history of mankind. You see the future as something to approach cautiously, with a plan in hand while I tend to barrel into the future, tossing up prayers and making it up as I go. My categories of cars are still: super-fancy, fancy, normal and boring and they still have everything to do with how a car looks and absolutely nothing to do with how it drives. You’re still holding onto the idea that there’s such a thing as “too much dessert” and it still makes me chuckle and shake my head. Yet the longer we’ve been together, the more I realize how very good it is that I married you.

This post is a tiny snapshot into how much I appreciate you. I know how much you love it (read:awkwardly smile and wish I didn’t have a Facebook account) when I make a big deal about you so I’ll try and keep this relatively bearable.

I’ll also add this disclaimer: I DID NOT MARRY A PERFECT MAN. HIS FARTS STILL SMELL AND HE HAS JUST AS MANY ISSUES AS THE NEXT GUY. (Did you just read that like I was shouting at you? Because I kinda did.)

That being said:

Thank you for holding my hand in church, and for giving me great big hugs when I come home every day. Thank you for getting me the most precocious and ridiculous cat to have ever existed as a Christmas present, and for not rubbing it in that she likes you best (most of the time). Thank you for eating the food I somehow managed to fling together, for FOUR years running! I think that ranks you among the most profoundly courageous of men. Thank you for treating me with care and consideration when I’m hurting. Thank you for being a safe place. Thank you for telling me how much you like my squawking, hooting whistle-snort of a laugh. And thanks for telling me that you think I’m funny. 🙂

Thank you for praying for me. Thank you for praying with me. Thank you for looking at my scrapbooks and taking the time to re-live sweet moments with me. Thank you for caring enough to listen to my dreams and challenging me to walk in them. Thank you for believing that I can change the world and for showing me the Scriptures and spreadsheets to prove it. 😉

You are one of the most odd, passionate, gentle, sincere and purposeful individuals I have ever met.

I am so very honored to be your one and only.

Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made.

Chapters 1 – 4

If our marriage was a book, it’d be four chapters long today. 🙂

Here are excerpts from the ever-expanding epic (that I’m not actually writing):

“Married Life: Lessons Learned by the Lavoies”

Chapter One: Community – Get some.

Our first year of marriage was pretty darn awesome. I laughed at John’s fastidious quirks and habits and provided ample entertainment by running into door frames and waking myself up with my own snores. It was evident we were embarking on the adventure of a lifetime and we soaked in every minute.

The difference-maker in this year was the people around us. We had an incredible community of friends and family who were cheering for us and loved us both. Many couples make the mistake of adopting an isolationist mindset when they first get married — “It’s all about US now.” Which is an easy trap to fall into because you’re trying to figure out how to set your own boundaries, make your own decisions as a couple etc. But it’s marital suicide. The people who made our first year of marriage great were the ones who asked us how we were doing as a couple or how they could pray for us. The ones who took us out on girls nights or guys nights, who weren’t weirded out when we admitted we had problems to work through and pushed (sometimes shoved) us closer to Jesus.

Find friends who know and love both of you and can speak into your lives when you need direction, encouragement, and prayer.

My beloved Bible Study while I was a newlywed. A constant source of encouragement and prayer. ❤

Chapter Two: Change – Expect it. Better yet, embrace it.

Our second year of marriage brought change. A LOT of it. I graduated from college, two weeks later we moved from VA to TX, one week later we traveled to Haiti for a 3 week mission trip, returned to an apartment full of unpacked boxes and I began my job hunt while he began learning the Greek alphabet in preparation for his first on-campus seminary semester. Also, we had two friends in TX. Wonderful people! But not exactly the equivalent of a church home or network of community that we desperately needed (see Chapter 1).

As you can imagine, we communicated perfectly, met each others expectations flawlessly and practically skipped into the bedroom every night!

NOT.

Year two for us was the proverbial “Year One” crash-course that we had missed out on earlier. It was hard.

In my zeal (read:panic) to dive head-first into this new normal of working while John went to seminary, I burned John to the ground. I just wore. him. out. I didn’t want him to get a job because it was MY job to bring home the bacon while he focused solely on and ALWAYS on school. Without realizing it, I not only let him drown in syllabi, flashcards, and commentaries, I was holding his head under the water.

He sunk into depression. I became angry and scared that he wasn’t charging into seminary and tackling every assignment with gusto. “That’s why we’re here in the first place, right?!” But he’s not a scholar, he’s a shepherd. And shepherds need to be shepherding even when especially when they’re surrounded by a lot of scholars.

After a few weeks of counseling, John was aptly diagnosed with “spiritual constipation.” In short, he had gone from a hands-on life of campus ministry that was full of discipleship, evangelism, and staff meetings … to a life of exegesis papers and deadlines. He desperately needed an outlet to be a shepherd again. Once he got a part-time job tutoring college students and began discipling some guys he slowly rose above the tidal wave of our unrealistic expectations. We both began to settle down and take our new life one day at a time – finding a church home, meeting new friends, and making new memories together.

Change doesn’t have to be a bad thing, just give yourself (and your spouse) the grace and the space to adapt to it.

The faithful Penskepants that moved our life half-way across the country.

Chapter Three: Common interest – find it, keep it, cultivate it.

When John and I were dating/engaged we went on tons of fun dates and enjoyed looking googly-eyed at each other and admiring how awesome we were. It was fabulous. Unfortunately, we didn’t prioritize finding some mutual hobby that we could do together as a couple. Once we got married, we quickly realized I was far from becoming a car enthusiast and John’s idea of scrapbooking was dropping jpegs into a folder on his computer and occasionally clicking through them (UNacceptable).

We dutifully started trying each other’s hobbies to see if we could find some common interest but it usually just led to frustration and disappointment. We enjoyed watching TV shows on Netflix for a time but felt like we were getting to know the characters on Frasier better than each other. Finally, after much prayer we landed on something: running*.

Running had never been a favorite pastime of mine because, as the license plate frame on my old car quipped “I’d rather be dancing!” But I was not about to slap a leotard on my black-belt husband and tell him to catch me as my tutu’ed self leapt into his arms. Not happening. (But great visual, right?)

Instead, we both embraced this new hobby and all that came with it: icing our knees with bags of frozen veggies, sharing a huge smoothie after long runs, instagramming our running dates (exclusively Rachel), researching how we could do it better (exclusively John), and ultimately running in races together.

Running with John has been one of the key contributing factors to the deepening of our friendship. It reminds me that he and I are on the same team. Not only while we run but while tackling the day-in, day-out crazy of life.

*John has already hinted that our knees may not be able to keep up this hobby indefinitely and that we should try bike-riding instead. But I’m banking on our next mutual interest to be something I’m actually good at — like ice cream eating competitions or bargain shopping. *fingers crossed*

A common interest or hobby is worth having  so be intentional about finding it and once you’ve got it — run with it! (Pun is 100% intended)

Finishers of the 2012 Dallas Half-Marathon!

Year Four: Conflict happens! LET IT.

I despise conflict and am an expert at avoiding it. The moment I see it coming, I run in the other direction which almost always leads to more conflict. John doesn’t like conflict either but he sees the very real danger in leaving it unresolved. When left unresolved, conflict festers in the heart and leads to increasing feelings of bitterness and anger. It’s not pretty.

But, it happens. Conflict happens because there is no way two people will always agree on every little thing, and certainly not on every BIG thing. John and I have said hurtful words and kept hurtful silence more times than I can number. We have both left the room in frustration, slammed doors, cried into pillows… the works.

Earlier on it was primarily John who would say, “Rachel, what’s wrong?” But in this last year of marriage I have realized how selfish I’ve been in leaving it up to him to always approach me when there’s an issue. When I bury my emotions I’m not helping either of us. It’s been tough for me to say “I’m angry. I’m hurt. You’re making me feel X-Y-Z” because the people – pleaser in me is always saying, “Really, Rachel? Do you really want to turn this into a problem? Can’t you just let it go?” But when I “let it go” it doesn’t disappear. It just buries itself deeper into my already seething mind and heart and then eventually erupts into this hot, roiling, mess of emotions that takes twice as long to work through and often cuts twice as deep.

The greatest aspect I’ve discovered about conflict is that you can actually get on the other side of it and still be friends! In fact, you can be better friends! It’s amazing. Despite my ridiculous fears that conflict will destroy our relationship, the exact opposite has happened. It builds, unites (eventually…), and strengthens us as a couple.

When you encounter conflict, work through it rather than around it.

OK. Clearly we aren’t legitimately angry in this picture… but you get the idea 😉

Four years later and what I can say about our marriage is that it’s different than it was. It requires harder work and produces sweeter dividends than I had ever anticipated. Each chapter has it’s own unique flavor of lessons learned and we are most definitely in a better place than where we started.

Happy Anniversary, John! I love you. 🙂

Surrounded : Confessions of an Extrovert

Introverts. They’re the worst. And by “worst” I mean the most intuitive, sensing, caring people I know.

And, in a stroke of brilliance (i.e God’s unfailing grace in my life) I married one of em. Turns out, he’s the worst of them all! So here are a few observations on introverts, through the eyes of a thankful extrovert.

Things to know before proceeding:

1) I am deeply in love with my husband, an introvert.

2) My role model is an introvert (and is related to me to boot!).

3) My best friend/college roommate is an introvert.

4) Most of my closest friends are… introverts.

In a word, I am – surrounded. Those sneaky introverts. You can always hear an extrovert coming into your life, like a bellowing bull charging the streets of Spain: “WE WILL BE FRIENDS AND YOU WILL LIKE IT!!” Whereas, with introverts, you’re just sitting at a park bench reading. They sit down next to you. A few months pass and before you know it, you can’t seem to live without them!  Crafty little boogers.

Extroverts usually get credit as being the “initiators” of relationships.  That’s understandable seeing as we experience less trepidation at the thought of talking with people we don’t know. But if you’ve ever been fortunate enough to have a relationship with someone that was meaningful and life-changing you know that it has to go past the initial, “Hi!” This is usually where extroverts are indebted to the stubborn fortitude of introverts.

In my experience, it’s been the patience and quiet persistence of introverts that feeds the depth of a friendship (or marriage). While I jabber on about the weather, my to-do-lists, and random musings about spiritual truths they tend to listen patiently, graciously laugh where appropriate, and as I take a breath they ask questions like, “So, how are you doing?”

*cricket cricket*

I’m not saying this is true of every extrovert but I can confess to it: I am a professional smoke-blower. My theatrical storytelling (sometimes including a smattering of onomatopoeia) and animated facial expressions usually make for a good time and I soak up the limelight like a cat in its favorite sun-soaked window sill (Truth be told? I really like being an extrovert!). I admit that my stories and ramblings are not always a way of deviating from real heart issues — but the people who notice the smoke are usually the ones listed above. And I am so grateful for them.

Yet let’s not make the mistake of painting introverts as a bunch of quiet, genteel, whispering poets. Some of them are just plain bonkers.  In my opinion, no one is more fascinating to watch than an introvert in their comfort zone. Extroverts can give the appearance of always being in their comfort zone but don’t be fooled — we’re just as in need of a place to be ourselves as introverts. And when we find an introvert who invites us into their little world of crazy, we often feel at home too. 🙂

Entering that little world of crazy feels like entering into an underground club full of snarky commentary, hilarious stories, and quirky hobbies. When you get in the club all you want to do is observe in delightful fascination the people you thought you had all figured out. My husband is a great example of this. He was sweet and funny when we first got married but I have come to discover he’s actually hilarious in ways I never saw coming!

Extroverts have no trouble being crazy in public, but for introverts you have to earn their trust before you see their crazy. I could learn a thing or two about that method. I usually become quite self-concious and anxious if my crazy is not readily accepted by the crowd. Introverts, however, choose their crowd and know them well. Isn’t that interesting? It’s brilliant, in my opinion! If you only pull your pants down among friends you’ll all get a good laugh. Conversationally speaking, of course. 😉

So thank you, introverts. Sometimes we think you’re weird with your “I just need to be alone” times, we don’t always pick up on your bizarre sense of humor, and we’re still trying to break the mindset that being quiet isn’t always a sign of being moody or angst-filled (but it looks like it ok?). We love you guys, and if we’re honest with ourselves – we need you.

Three years, three perspectives, one conclusion.

Not gonna lie. We look good. 😉

John and I have been married for 3 years today! Awesome. 🙂 As we reach this chapter in our marriage I have received/observed a variety of opinions (which I think are more accurately labeled “reflections from personal experience”) on three years of marriage.

These opinions typically (though not always) fall under three categories:

1) Still Newlyweds 2) Flickering Romance 3) Where are the Kids?

Still Newlyweds – You don’t know what it’s “really like” being married…

I’ve noticed that this opinion is present every year and that couples who have been married for 10+ years get the same kind of rhetoric from couples who have been married for 20+ years and so on and so forth. In that case, does ANY one know what it’s “really like”? And, who gets to decide when you’ve “arrived”?

Regardless, I am exceedingly thankful for where we are now. John is my best friend. I really can’t think of anyone else who I would rather share everything with. And I mean  laundry, dishes, conflict, Star Trek Marathons, bowls of ice cream EVERYTHING. I live with his shortcomings and he with mine. It takes a real man to love this clumsy, absent-minded, snoring, guffawing mess.

We’re one! What a remarkable truth and what a safe haven for my mountain of insecurities. I have no idea how this falls under “knowing what it’s like” but I can tell you this much — I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Flickering Romance – Three years is enough time for you to realize that marriage is way more work than you bargained for. You’re probably feeling a bit disappointed by the whole experience, huh?

1) I am not naive enough to believe that John and I will always have stomachs full of butterflies and hearts bursting with uncontrollable passion. I think it’s safe to say: we’ve passed the honeymoon stage. We aren’t blindly enamored by the newness of married life, it’s just become a part of who we are. Him in me, I in Him.

2) Our marriage doesn’t take “more work” it takes the same amount of “work” that God required of us from the beginning:

“Wives submit to your husbands as to the Lord… Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.” – Ephesians 5:22 &25

I’ve heard it said that “familiarity can breed contempt.” And I think that’s why people assume, after a certain point, marriage is a disappointing, fairy-tale-gone-wrong relationship. It doesn’t have to be that way. Yes, John and I don’t have the same mushy-gushy lovey-dovey fuzzy-wuzzy (somebody stop me…) feelings we once had all the time. Now we have a marriage.

Familiarity can also breed security, freedom, peace, a REFUGE. That’s what our marriage is growing into. We can’t build a foundation on mushy-wuzzy feelings. We are called to build it on the covenant we made before the one true God on our wedding day three years ago. We also don’t build that foundation alone, the Holy Spirit is (and continues to be) our helper.

Sometimes that means we have conflict and go through the process of resolving it. Which can be as easy as, “Woops. I’m sorry, I definitely misunderstood what you meant. Friends? Friends!” and as difficult as, “I just can’t be in the same room right now.. I’ll be back in a bit to talk it out after I’ve cooled off.”

Sometimes it means saying “No” to good fun with good people because you haven’t had a chance to sit down and talk to your spouse, face-to-face, in 1-2-3 weeks.

Sometimes it means you come home to a beautiful bouquet of roses on the table from a husband who knows you, and knows you are going through a difficult time. Sometimes it means waking up 20 minutes earlier during finals week so you have time to prepare his favorite crockpot dish or make him a hot cup of tea before leaving for work.

So while some equate familiarity with disinterest, I see it as a great blessing.

Where are the kids? – Does this really need an explanation? 

This opinion is pretty exclusive, as it’s constituents are family and close friends. You guys are relentless! 😉 Our response: they aren’t here yet! Lord-willing we will one day have a family. Maybe the Lord will give us a great big surprise before John graduates and our “perfect little plan” will be interrupted by God’s “I’m-sovereign-I-do-what-I-want plan.” Usually that ends up happening, so who knows?! In the meantime, we are thoroughly enjoying loving all over the kiddos we know and picking your brains on parenting.

My conclusion, after reflecting on three years of marriage to John: good call.

And, uh, just for the record, I still get butterflies in my stomach. 🙂

Choose to Laugh

John and I have a tagline for any ridiculous and/or awkward happenings that occur during our married life together:

“They don’t tell you about THIS in premarital counseling!”

It’s a great way of dissauding any threatening outbursts of frustration and it makes us laugh uncontrollably when we ought to be crying, which often does lead to tears of laughter (read:lunacy).

It’s in those moments where instead of griping or grumping about each other’s “uniqueness” we choose to laugh.

And you know what I’ve noticed?

Mutual laughter paves a natural road towards acceptance and, when necessary, forgiveness.

I wish I could say we do it EVERY time we encounter such circumstances, but we both know that isn’t true. 😉

Some snapshots into the marital madness:

– Me waking John up with my snoring (how’s that for breaking stereotypes? Oh, and did I mention he wears earplugs?)

– John’s OCD dishwasher loading technique (really, it’s impressive but not when YOU just spent 10 min loading the dishwasher… Know what I’m saying? 😉 )

– John setting the stove on fire  (yep.)

– Me purchasing and then promptly forgetting about, several pounds of ground beef. I, um, discovered it in the back of our fridge weeks later. ($13 worth of meat by the way. This is a favorite story of John’s)

– Dutch oven. (need I say more?)

– John running the washer without putting in any detergent. (this has happened more than once which makes it even better)

– Me scraping one of our car mirrors on a parking garage pole. (I thought it’d be nice to add a touch of red to the blue!…no?)

– And the most entertaining ones will forever remain between the two of us. (as it should be, trust me.)

John and I have both shaken our heads in bewilderment at the other’s quirks and mishaps on numerous occasions. We’re learning that becoming one means fully accepting the other. I can’t only have the parts of John that mesh smoothly and comfortably into my way of doing things and vice-versa.

We’ve also noticed a trend:

Quick and sincere forgiveness in little things makes it easier to accept and grant forgiveness in the bigger things.

“bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.”

– Colossians 3:13 – 

So, while John may cringe as I set a bowl in the dishwasher (RIGHT where the cups should go) and I walk by the washer a few times “just to check”, I’m thankful that (for the most part) we choose to laugh and, by God’s grace, forgive.