We've been married for one month, and marriage has been good, and awesome, and amazing. But it's also been hard. I expected it to be hard, but not in the ways it has been. One of my goals with my blog has always been to be honest and real. And since I've gotten married, I might as well be honest and real about marriage, too.
So here's the first of (what might be) many posts on what I'm learning in marriage.
Communication: We haven't really had any fights (though we may at some point or another), but I've been fighting with myself. As in, it's been hard for me to communicate my needs, mostly probably because I don't want to need. But I do, and it's not fair to expect my husband to know what I need unless I tell him. So whether it's asking for a hug, or help around the house, or for the trash to be taken out, I have to say it. And that's new, and hard in ways I didn't expect.
Gender roles: I was blessed to grow up in a home where my mom stayed at home, and as a result, she did most of the chores around the house. I always assumed that's the way it should be. But the reality is that I work, a lot. And as I think about gender roles biblically, there's really nothing wrong that I can see with my husband cooking dinner, or doing dishes, or helping around the house sometimes. Yes, I want to do all those things all the time, but the reality is that I can't, or if I can and I do it, I'm a grouchy mess. So while I have the helper role in this relationship, I'm learning to accept (and appreciate) help, and that's been hard.
Independence: I've always prided myself on being strong and independent and able to" do it myself." When I got married, I knew that I was giving up my independence and some of my freedoms in exchange for interdependence. I was fine with that. What I didn't realize was the guilt that I'd feel over being dependent. I recognize that biblically my husband is my covering and my head, and so therefore I am his responsibility, but that's been hard for me. He tells me that he knew what he was signing up for when he said his vows, and I thought I did, too. But submission to God's design for interdependence has thus far been harder than actually submitting to my husband.
The "hard" of marriage might not be what I expected, but God knew. God knows. If marriage is about growth and sanctification (and I believe it is), this is just part of the process. And I'm all in. I've always been and forever will be.
I can be a bit of a firecracker sometimes. I'm an oldest child. I have a Type A personality. I'm stubborn and hard-headed. And I have a lot of strong preferences.
Sometimes I worry that my personality is too much. I think I should be more soft and demure. More docile or tame and less opinionated. But then I realize that I really can't be. I have a fiesty nature. That's just who I am, and to change that would be to change the person God made me to be.
There is certainly a time and place for being polite and respectful, for withholding. I never want to purposefully offend people with my personality. And I don't want to camp on my opinions and preferences to the point that I'm ridiculously inflexible. I don't want to be rude or prideful or selfish. But I don't want to be fake, either.
More and more, God is revealing to me who I am and what I am about. That allows me to be more assertive in expressing my preferences, more firm with my boundaries, and more sure with my "Yes" or "No." And in a lot of ways, that is freeing.
So if I've offended you in something I've done, please tell me and let's talk about it. Maybe I need to change, or learn to be more soft in my authenticity. But if my personality offends you because it's too much, maybe we need to have a surface level, respectfully tolerant relationship and let the rest go.
And on the flip side, if I invest in you, know I'm trying, by God's grace, to living an authentic life. I'm quirky and weird and full of it sometimes, but that's me. What you see is what you get, and if I share with you, it's honest, and intentionally real. I mean what I say, and I say what I mean. Too much? Maybe. But this is the too much God has given me. And He's in control.
I didn't wear jeans until around fifth grade. I didn't like the way they fit or felt. I started wearing jeans when I moved to Arizona and was made fun of incessantly for my stretchy pants. I had a love/hate relationship with jeans shopping. I had to wear cowboy Wranglers for awhile to get them long enough. Later, I paid too much for Calvin Klein jeans that fit, but quickly ripped. I found some St. John's Bay jeans that fit for awhile, but then JC Penney stopped selling them. My last pairs of jeans were hand-me-downs from my Arkansas best friend. I outgrew one pair and the other is only good for winter. I told myself to look for new jeans and I occasionally did, but I didn't buy any last year. And I didn't for most of this year.
So what did I buy? Yoga pants and legging. They're not for everybody or every job, but they work for me. I spend a lot of my work days playing with kids. My body is constantly changing and fluctuating in size and yoga pants will fit most of the time. Yoga pants are cheaper and easier to clean than jeans anyway. And I can buy multiple pairs for the price of one pair of jeans. It seems like a win to me. And it feels more authentic.
Clothes are so much of a status symbol. And I'm not saying I'm immune. But what I am advocating for is more acceptance. Please don't judge me or the person next to me based on our pants (or our pant sizes!). You never know why a person wears what the clothes they wear. Those clothes might be all they have. Those clothes might be medically or job necessitated. Those clothes might be a marker of that person trying to accept their body. Those clothes might be just for comfort in a stormy season of life. Whatever the case, don't judge.
Side note: I did finally buy one pair of jeans. They're the same brand as my best friend hand-me downs, but decidedly shortly. They work with boots, so for this season, they'll do....
I'm so tired of the polarization of society. I'm so tired of hearing people labeled as saints or Satan. Seriously! Can't we see that life exists in shades of gray? People are not all good or all bad! We are all created in the image of God, and all of our hearts are deceitful (Jer 17:9).
If I channel my Brene Brown and reflect on her book Braving the Wilderness, I'd say that the root issue of this polarization of society is fear. It's easier to pigeonhole people and label them than it is to accept that people are fallible, that they might disagree with us, that we might disagree with them. It is easier to see people as stagnant than as capable of growth, because then we might have to grow.
Truth always exists, and there is a place for confronting lies and telling things like they are. But seriously, can we not let some things go? I'm not saying we all have to agree. I just wish we could all get along and have some grace and appreciation of one another and our differences. I wish we could be authentic and genuine with one another without fear of recoil or backlash or getting sued for goodness' sake!
As a former black-and-whiter, I still have strong beliefs and preferences, especially when it comes to my faith in Jesus for salvation. But I don't want a Bible-basher, a polarizer, a labeler, a pigeon-holer. Rather, I want to see people as the intricately wonderfully created people they are, people capable of good and evil, people capable of growth and change and redemption.
I know who I am. I know Whose I am. I don't need to be afraid. Because of that, I'm making an effort to see people in shades of gray,and the world in shades of color, for much of the beauty of life lies there.
I generally try to present my best self on social media. I prefer pictures where my hair looks at least half done, makeup covers my blemishes, and I'm smiling. But that's not real life, friends. Some days, plenty of days, I barely comb my hair, have a face covered in acne, and am still wearing PJs or workout clothes by midday. I wouldn't say those things make me ugly, though. What makes me ugly is my heart.
People often think I'm a "nice girl" or a "goody two shoe" because I'm a rule follower. But guess what? My heart can be evil and wicked. I envy. I wish harm to people. I gripe. I moan. I discourage. I don't pray. I grasp for control. I worry. I curse. People don't always know all this, because these things generally happen inside me, but these sins are ugly. And often I act ugly. I have a short temper. I get easily irritated. I speak unkindly. I'm pessimistic. I'm not or good company.
Jeremiah 17:9 says, "The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?" (New International Version) That is certainly true of my heart without Jesus. It is only because of Jesus and the redeeming work of the Holy Spirit that there is anything good in me. It is only because of being in Christ that I am metamorphosing into a new creation (2 Cor 5:17).
I do want to be beautiful. Let's be honest, I want to be beautiful on the outside, but I recognize that is only superficial. What the Spirit within me desires is that I cultivate inner beauty, because that is what lasts. And so in a spiritual sense, I also want to be beautiful, to have a "gentle and quiet spirit" instead of worry and envy and discontent, to be brave and "not give way to fear" (1 Pet 3:4, 6). Because as I do these things, the ugliness of my heart fades, allowing the beauty of the Spirit to shine. And that is true beauty, a kind of beauty that lasts!
I've been thinking lately about feeling vulnerable, about how I use feeling vulnerable as an excuse. I use it as an excuse for not getting out and being social. Being social risks too much, I tell myself. I use vulnerability as an excuse for hiding my emotions, even from myself, because the depth of my emotions scares me. I use vulnerability as an excuse for not telling people how much I care about them because I don't want to risk loving and losing. But you know what? Without vulnerability, I'm hard, stoic, and cold. I'm inhuman and inanimate.
Vulnerability requires action, either on the part of others, or myself. And since I believe I'm responsible for my own feelings, I don't think anybody can actually make me feel vulnerable. That's a choice I have to make for myself. And I don't think I can feel vulnerable as much as I can be vulnerable.
Failing to admit my hurt and pain and rawness is part of my perfectionism. And it sucks. It keeps me scared and afraid and trapped. I don't want that. I want to connect and learn and love and grow. All those things require movement, choice, decision-vulnerability.
Vulnerability is a verb, folks. It doesn't happen in a vacuum, and it doesn't happen without some pain and agony. So here's to being more vulnerable, come what may....
The dust hung heavy as the sunlight streamed in through the living room windows. I could see the dust in the air, on the wood, on my hands. And no matter how much I tried to wipe that dust off, it clung to me, and to the surfaces from which I was trying to remove it. Sure, I removed some of it off, but the sun showed just how much more remained.
Life's like that. We've all got hurts, habits, hang-ups, and areas of just plain not knowing. The more we let the light in, the more we see we need to learn, grow, heal, and let go. Letting light in, whether via accountability, or preaching, or teaching, or plain old learning can be painful. It reveals our inadequacies. It shows us how much we don't know. It shows us how much dust yet remains.
But as we learn and grow, some of the dust clears or disappears. The sun exposes and reflects beautifully off the cleaned areas, even as it still shows the dusty ones. Light reveals life just as it reveals stagnation.
I'm not always all about living the vulnerable life. It's uncomfortable. I feel exposed. But if I have to let in the light to get some clarity, bring on the Son.
