The [Secret] of Marriage

My sweet husband and I have been together for over a decade and when we talk on the phone, my office mate jokes that we're sappy together.  We don't do it on purpose, but I'm glad to know that we're still going strong after the honeymoon phase has ended. 

Lately, I know a number of people, however, who have been divorced or are in the process.  I know divorcees who are struggling with dating and finding their 'perfect' guy.  And the irony is that Ray and I are some of the most imperfect people.  We have strong, close-knit family who will vouch, not only of our strengths, but our weaknesses as well.  And heaven knows that if you look at us, we aren't cover-worthy of Cosmo.

But when I think about what keeps us going well, there are a few things that really stand out.  Perhaps they are secrets, perhaps they're not.  I do, however, think they are key -- not only for us, but also for the marriages that I see splintering away.

1)  We love Jesus.
If you don't know Jesus, then this might seem like the silliest thing in the world.  It's not that we just have a common hobby, but our love for Jesus determines not only how we spend our time, but also how we treat one another, how we perceive one another, how we see our roles in the relationship, and so much more.  It's so utterly essential and so completely foundational that without this, DH and I wouldn't have made it through our first three years with one another.

In fact, our relationship with our Savior has brought us through a prime-time news controversy during our adoption, cancer, lawyer drama after the death of a loved one, and some significant struggles raising our hurt little boys.  Jesus not only held us together, but held us up when we didn't have enough strength on our own.

2)  We don't fight lightly.
When two individuals enter into marriage, they become more than they were apart.  I honestly believe marriage is greater than the sum of its two parts.  It's not just about you anymore; it's about US.  So you have to start thinking about what's best for both of us, not just what is best for me.  When we feel agitated, grumpy, frustrated, annoyed or whatever transient feeling is there -- then Ray and I often keep it to ourselves.  That being said: we don't bottle it up, either.  We deal with things of importance, and the things that disappear with a good night's sleep, we let go. 

When there are things that are important, we don't explode on the other.  We don't let it get out of hand so that we say 20 things we might regret.  We don't fester about it and let our hearts turn into knots.  We do, however, talk with one another with a twinge of fear, or healthy respect, for the fact that our mutual trust, respect, and love are on the line.

Dear husband and I don't always agree.  No two people always do.  But we also don't need to fight over someone getting home 5 minutes late, or leaving the toilet seat up.  Our marriage isn't worth a fight over something so petty.  I know a lot of people that hang their hat on being right.  For the sake of marriage, give that up.  It's better to get along, than to fight to the end and be right. 

3)  We apologize (and forgive).
Sometimes I will speak sharply because I'm really frustrated with something else, or someone else.  Sometimes he will huff and puff from exhaustion, not irritation.  But the moment we realize that we over-reacted (even if we still don't think we were wrong), we apologize for what we should have done differently.  That's big.  Sometimes our biggest obstacle in overcoming a disagreement is not the disagreement at all, but the hurt feelings in how we shared the problem.

4) We play together.
We refuse, intentionally, to be people who work and come home just to become roommates with divvied up chores.  Every night we put away the laptops and we talk for the 10 or 15 minutes before we fall asleep.  Once every 2- 3 weeks, we go on a date night where we talk and hold hands and eat and laugh.  On the weekends, we do family things together: we take walks, or go sledding, or visit other family.  We do it together.  We're partners and we have to remember that, always.

5)  We're thankful.
We thank each other.  A lot. 
We attempt, at any rate, not to take each other for granted.  Ray did some laundry and my clothes were clean: thank you!  I got the coffee pot ready for the next morning: thank you!  Ray came in and dealt with the same children who were frustrating me: thank you!  It means something when we help each other out.  Sure, it's expected -- but if we treat each other like it's expected, then it's hard to help with a joyful heart instead of simply a dutiful heart. 

There it is.  My top 5 for a healthy, lasting marriage.  I don't know if these things are deep secrets, but they certainly are pivotal.  Ray and I do a ton of other healthy things: we eat almost all of our dinners together at the table, we call each other during the day, we're best friends, we do big chores together, we both pitch in, we both do things outside each other, and so much more.  My top 5, though, are just things that I think I see a lot of other couples losing, and it breaks my heart.  If you invest in one another instead of looking at the relationship based on how he or she makes you happy in the moment, then you'll have accomplished so much more than so many others.  Start there.

The Parent Rap

Listen, I've seen it before.
Probably you have, too.
But on a Saturday when I'm dishing out chores to kids who think that's what a mom and dad are for, and don't like their kid-friendly lunch because it's not Wendy's, well . . . .
Perhaps you need to watch it again.  I know I did.
For laughs.
Because today we NEED to laugh.

When the light begins to fade

I get discouraged sometimes with all of us as humans.  I get discouraged when I see our weaknesses.  Social media brings me more awareness than other aspects.  I scroll Facebook to see 'funny' photographs that poke fun at someone else's expense.  I see rantings and judgments from people about politics, the weak in our society, the immigrant, the poor, the disenfranchised.  Somehow the voice and anonymity of being in cyberspace allows us to reveal the essence of our core.

Like drivers on the road, hidden in our cars, express all-too-quickly our rage, frustration, irritation and lack of mercy with others.  We snuggle in behind a steering wheel and shake fists at strangers, unknowing what emergency or consuming trouble may be overwhelming their mind as they drive.

We judge.
Quickly.
Harshly.
Mercilessly.

I love the Casting Crowns song, "City on a Hill."  The message is simple: the more we listen to one another, the more we understand, the more we become the people God intended us to be.


It's always the simple declarations that Jesus gives, which are so simple that we learn and forget in the same moment -- always attempting to learn again.  Love one another.  Three simple words that shake the foundation of who we are and how we live each moment.

Love one another as I'm driving to work in rush hour traffic and I'm going to be late because I'm stuck behind this person going below the speed limit.  Love one another as I'm sitting in church and they're asking us again for money for some other group of people in another part of the world who are starving, but I just gave my tithe, and I just gave for my kids' school yearbooks and I just got new tires on the car.  Love one another when gun laws change, or healthcare changes, or a new president comes into office.  Love one another when my neighbor trims my bushes touching his yard.  Love one another when the referees aren't calling the game right ---

You get the idea.
We learn and forget.

But what happens if we don't forget?
What happens if we find a way to see people the way that God sees people.  Each moment we walk through life and all we see is another broken soul who might one day be a worshiper of Jesus -- just might be, if we speak kindly, and love whole-heartedly, outside of ourselves.

How do we get to that place?
How do we begin to see others the way Jesus does?
How do we look past our disagreements, our personal frustrations and see the world from God's perspective?

Prayer is my only answer.   Not a little prayer.   Constant, daily, walking and talking with your best friend prayer.  On your knees or jumping for joy prayer.  Praying while we drive to work, praying while we cook our family's dinner, praying while we vacuum, while we get the mail, while we dry our hair.  But prayer is the answer. 
We always need more.
More connection with our heart's love.
That is what will save us all.

Birthmom

Sometimes we are all quick to judge.  Ann Voskamp, (I'm still reading her book, slowly, savoring), talks about looking at life through God-focused lenses and changing our perspective.  It's easy to look at birthmom and think, "she ought to do the right thing."  And we think, in all of our pride and human arrogance, that we know what the right thing should look like, feel like, be.  But if we take a moment to change our focus, we can see the same information entirely changed.

This birthmom, Callie Mitchell, shares her story bravely, unfiltered, and with humble courage.  It's impact is mighty.  She chose to place her baby for adoption and recorded a video journal of the experience; it is remarkable in many ways. 

A woman called me the other day.  She knows someone contemplating abortion -- could I be of any help?  What words do I say to comfort a woman heartbroken over another's choices?  She wants to do  something; I can feel it.  She is powerless.  And I cannot give her power.  Not much.

I pass along information.
Information can have power potentially.
How much is hard to say.

It takes bravery to bear a child, and bravery still to gift that child to another.   And we pray that this young woman, wherever she is, finds bravery, strength and courage.  We pray that fear not guide her, that fear not win the day.  Fear can be so powerful and so crippling.

And we, who know Jesus, can trust with certainty Isaiah 41:10:

So do not fear, for I am with you; 

do not be dismayed, for I am your God. 

I will strengthen you and help you; 

I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Wherever this young woman, with life growing inside her, we pray she hear these words and know that she is not alone.  There is courage deep within, and a God who loves her regardless of anything she may tell herself.

The Learning Curve

It's fascinating how you can read a book about attachment, learn the basics on a subject, and still forget the entirety when it comes to living it out.  I suppose it's like any other lesson in life: love your neighbors, be thankful in all things, turn the other cheek.  We learn and forget in the span of a breath.  I cannot tell you how many times I ask our therapist why my child behaves a certain way, and he explains some aspect of attachment that illuminates the world again.  Yet when Sugar Monkey doesn't play well with others, or All-Star is torn up with worry, I forget anew.

The learning curve is so much bigger than I ever thought it would be.

I started reading Ann Voskamp's, One Thousand Gifts.  Have you read it?  It's life-changing.  Well, it seems to be and I hope it to be life-changing.  I just pour over the pages like she's written honey of which I can't get enough.

I've started my own gratitude journal with the hope that it begins to transform my heart the way that it has hers.  Should you be interested, the title refers to an endeavor challenged to her to write down 1,000 gifts God had given to her.  Then her thousand-item list became lifestyle of gratitude.  She found the 'joy in all things,' about which Paul wrote, stems from thanksgiving.  The challenge lies in becoming a person who is indeed daily, hourly thankful.  It's a fascinating book.

Savor the little things, say all mothers, because the little things disappear all too soon.

little hands fetching to be held
wide eyes ready to play
arms lifted high, begging to be pulled to the sky
squeals of delight
little voices speaking, i love you

But when little men roar about a world from which they have fallen victim and then beat their chests against any perception of pain anew, it feels so easy to board up a wall of protection instead of waiting for the tears of relief, (which will fall in time -- just wait) and then to love and feel thankful for wet, tear-stained faces to smashing deep into the belly.

Hard.  But necessary.

Today we had one meltdown over homework before the neighborhood friends arrived to bring joy back to the day.  One meltdown with screaming and head-banging and tears that eventually slowed, then drifted into a stillness of regret.  Waiting for that stillness, I finally asked why we had that meltdown.  He said he saw he had one more bit of homework and it tipped him over the edge (in little man, absent of feeling words, vocabulary).  Now?  He's up in a tree with his brother and two neighbors.  And I'm thankful these boys have each other, that the tree holds four bodies mightily, that laughter squeals fill the neighborhood whether the neighbors like it or not, that my boys are safe and happy,
and that they are mine.
My messes forever.

To Be Continued

I have a lot to say.  Lots.  I've been in a funk that can only be described as saying that I think Satan has been attacking me.  Does that sound crazy?  It feel like there has been this spell where everything is negative, where I feel fed up, grouchy, flustered.  And then one day it seems all was lifted -- like I just stepped out & away from this horrible rain cloud that had been encircling and enslaving me.  The fresh air feels marvelous. 

So that being said, confessed, I have a million things that I keep thinking I want to post, but haven't.  So look out.  More is coming!

The Bedroom Mailbox

The bedroom mailbox 

I was talking to a friend of mine about some ideas I had regarding our kids.  There were lots of things we were throwing around at one another about devotions, journals, and the like.  One idea that she shared was that she and her daughter have a nighttime notebook.  If the daughter wanted to share some last-minute information, but it was time for bed -- or if the daughter wanted to say something nice to her mom -- she could write it in the notebook.  After the daughter went to sleep, the mom would write a reply back.  The rule was that no one was allowed to rip anything out of the notebook.  The problem was that her son never could buy into it.  He didn't like writing and just never much wrote anything down.

So this lead to me a different version of the same idea.  What about a mailbox where we could write little notes in the evening and get notes back?  Writing one idea on a scrap of paper seemed less daunting than a notebook, plus I didn't think my kids would ever go along with the idea of NOT ripping paper from a notebook.  It's one of their favorite things to do when they've finished a drawing.  

So I picked up these little index card boxes for $.25 each at Walmart!  YAY!  My youngest son set upon decorating it immediately -- even giving it a little flag on the side so that we'd know there was mail ready!  He wrote his name all over it and since I've taken to calling him Sugar Monkey, I only snapped a picture of his brother's "mail box," which he kept completely plain.  We stuck it their bedroom doors with some handy 3M Command sticky tape.

So far the idea is working.  I keep all their little notes and am planning on putting them in a book if we keep this up.  I'd love for this to me a routine in our family -- a great way of bonding even when it's been a bad day.