Readers over Roses : Middle Aged Love

Last year, much to his dismay, my husband had to start wearing reading glasses. Like many middle-aged people, he has several inexpensive pairs scattered about our home. His favorites, however, are a tortoise-shell clicker set with a magnetic nose bridge and a band around his neck. 

After dinner most evenings, Ryland assumes his place behind his laptop, catching up on work. I buzz in and out as I recall topics in need of discussion. 

Right around this time, we both started to notice our nightly discussions frequently took a sharper tone. I was more defensive and found myself feeling unfairly questioned or judged over the slightest things. One night we confronted this head-on. What is going on? Why are relatively simple conversations feeling sharp and frustrating? Neither of us could pinpoint any significant marital issue. Then it hit us...it was the readers!

When I would walk into the room to ask a question, seated Ryland would lower his chin and gaze at me over his glasses. This position caused his forehead to wrinkle and his brow to furrow--and as ashamed as I am to admit it publicly, this Enneagram 8 received it immediately as being 'parented' or judged by my spouse. I would become unnecessarily defensive simply because of the signals this body language sent. (I am sure this sounds ridiculous to people who aren't wired like me, but I am just being honest. I wish I weren't this way, but it's one of my issues.)

For the next several nights we tried an experiment, as we started talking, instead of peering at me over his readers he would remove them--and suddenly openness and good attitudes were restored. With the sound of the magnetic click of removal, I exhaled. 

And then one night after dinner, I walked in to find him signing off on charts in his work safety goggles. I started giggling and asked,  "What are you doing in those?"

"Well," he replied with a grin, "they have magnifying lenses built-in and they look so ridiculous I thought it would be hard for you to feel judged while I was wearing them."

He was right. Those goggles have had the exact opposite effect. They make me feel known, accepted, and loved. When he looks up from his work, even if it is a harder conversation, I am softened by the immediate reminder that if he's willing to look silly on account of my insecurities, I can rest assured we are on the same team. Such a simple, humble adjustment in response to my idiosyncrasy is a nightly reminder of his care for me.

This isn't exactly the kind of love story we tell young people...that after a couple of decades very unsexy safety goggles will mean more than chocolates or flowers, but this is the beauty of old love.  I don't need flashy or expensive, just a man whose actions reflect his sacrificial love for the real, quirky me. 

Love in Real Life

A couple of weeks ago I was in a bookstore with my children when the young couple caught my eye.

It was the sound of their laughter that first attracted my attention. The way they leaned into each other around an oversized book he was holding drew me in. The couple, in their early twenties were standing in front of the pet books, arms interlocked and heads tilted close enough to almost touch as they giggled over a large dog encyclopedia. I observed them long enough to watch them settle down at a table in the Starbucks cafe and flip leisurely through the pages--talking excitedly about the pros and cons of various breeds of dogs. 

I confess I was a bit more of a stalker than I intended to be, but I couldn't stop watching them. The whole scene tapped into something bittersweet in my heart--reminding me of the hours Ryland and I spent during our engagement and first year of marriage discussing our ideal dog. We hovered over our large desktop PC in our Virginia apartment many nights after work before finally selecting our chocolate lab, Haley (who turns 13 years old in a few weeks.)

As I stood in line waiting for my coffee, I wondered what it was about this particular scene that caused such a twinge in my heart. I realized it was the time and space to just sit in a coffee shop together and dream about the future that seemed so far away from my current reality. 

We are a couple of decades ahead of those dreamers--in our 40s with five children, in the midst of living many of the things we once merely planned. Ryland & I do intentionally seek out time together as a couple, but increasingly when we manage to squeeze in a date night it feels like we are "on the clock" with a sitter or reactively working through an agenda of "must discuss" items.
  

I love my life as a mother. There are so many deep, rich, stretching, beautiful elements of this crazy ride. But still, I really wanted to pull a chair up next to this cute couple and tell them to savor these days--the ones where you can finish a conversation without interruptions over perceived emergencies like missing shoes, someone hurting feelings with a mere look or batteries that need recharging.  I wanted to tell them to enjoy the lingering and the ability to actually look at each other's faces when you speak. We are so often in divide and conquer mode that I forget to simply make eye contact with the man who holds my heart. 

Last Saturday while our oldest four were away at church camp, dear friends hosted our five year old for the night. Ryland & I had exactly 24 hours together at home with no children. We made grand plans to travel to Nashville for an exciting event with one of my favorite authors, but scrapped it so we could just hit pause, stay home and reconnect. We realized we had never spent a night home without our children--we always leave them here and go (run!) away to reconnect.

During our staycation, we ate grown up food, tackled overdue projects, thoroughly cleaned my suburban and most importantly, finished every conversation we started. At one point as we stood among the gravel of our half completed driveway (not exactly the epicenter of romance) and were able to actually talk through the details of the project as opposed to being in constant reactive mode, Ryland released a deep, fulfilled sigh and said "This was exactly what I needed...to just get you back."

Ironically, the 24 hours at home together breathed more life back into our marriage than the anniversary week in St. Barth's we enjoyed in January. It sounds so provincial but it is true. I am a travel lover, but in this season what we needed most was a pause, to reorient ourselves here in our real life. In the end I realized this is a blessing, because while beaches are beautiful, a fancy escape isn't necessary to find each other. It just takes a few less kids and a bit more eye contact to reclaim romance and connection right here where we live.

I read an article recently that encouraged studying our mates and familiarizing ourselves with what they need. I was convicted. What if we spent as much time identifying and attempting to meet the needs of our spouses as we do those of our offspring? For the last twelve years I have made myself an expert on my children. I could tell you with great clarity what they need to thrive. But that is not always the case with my mate--especially in this season of life, full of stressors, busy-ness and distraction.

Summer is full of kids coming and going. (We just dropped two of our big kids at camp today.) Here's to making the most of the times in between-- to linger a little longer with the ones we love, to make eye contact, maybe even to dream...

Marriage in the Middle

Today marks my 13th wedding anniversary. I am 40. My children are in the double digits. If life were a novel, we are currently in that middle section where people decide if this story is worth sticking with or they should move on to another.

I envision Donald Miller's metaphor from A Million Miles in a Thousand Years of an overnight kayaking expedition in British Columbia...there was vigor in the beginning and a visible, beckoning goal in the end...but several critical hours of the expedition were spent paddling in the darkness in the dead of night. Miller observed:

“I think this is when most people give up on their stories. They come out of college wanting to change the world, wanting to get married, wanting to have kids ... But they get into the middle and discover it was harder than they thought. They can't see the distant shore anymore, and they wonder if their paddling is moving them forward. None of the trees behind them are getting smaller and none of the trees ahead are getting bigger. They take it out on their spouses, and they go looking for an easier story.” 
― Donald Miller, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: What I Learned While Editing My Life

Life gets tricky in the middle. All the starry eyed gusto that propelled us forward in the early days has faded. Our dreams have encountered reality. We don't have to imagine 'for better or for worse' because we can think of real life experiences with both.  I watch young friends starting their marriages and their parenting journeys with big plans, sweeping pronouncements of how they will and won't do things and Pinterest boards packed with ideas. I admire that sparkle and spunk, but compare it to my own daily life here in the middle which is 95% no glamour, no glory, just rowing through the middle.

Ryland & I strive to live with intentionality. And yet, as some of the shine has worn off we frequently  remind each other that even epic stories have a lot of mundane parts--days where we just need to do the work, not flake out,  finish strong. I can remember the warnings from couples ahead of us that sometimes marriage could be work and I scoffed. Work? What a terrible thought! This adorable man will never be work--and, of course, I won't be either!

Now I know that perhaps the better word choice would be that marriage requires paying attention and making adjustments--small ones constantly like a skilled sailor rather than drastic ones in an emergency because you've drifted off course. 

I adore my husband. There is no one else on the planet I could imagine partnering with for this journey of  life. And still, we are sinners--broken, inherently selfish and easily distracted.  The tide of the world, the current of circumstances can distract me and tempt me to  forget--especially out here in the middle.

Even though he is my favorite person and my partner, our daily lives are very different. My husband spends his days dealing with tumors, sterile equipment and diagnoses. I spend mine with children, disenfranchised people, Bible study & household chores. 

Some days we struggle to finish a simple conversation, but we don't stop trying because he is my person. Real life requires that we spend time in 'divide and conquer' mode, but we can't stay in that mode if we are to remain a unit.  Some days it is easier than others to  fight my way through the haze of bills, child discipline, household chores and other mundane topics to catch a glimpse that reminds me how I passionately love that man. 

 I am fascinated by the fact that otters  hold onto one another so they don't float away while they are sleeping. It is an adorable (and powerful) reminder for married people. 

Drifting may well be the greatest threat to 'good' relationships.

In 13 years of marriage (and 4 years of dating before that) there has been ebb and flow in our relationship. Ryland & I are both fiercely independent. The pull of the world, our own pride, calendars and external demands are such that we must stay tethered so we don't drift away.

And when we do start to feel the distance, it is absolutely worth the effort to reach out and reel each other back in.  This looks like making time together a priority, simple texts, or a stolen lunch date. And some days it is just a big hug and the words: "Hey, I'm on your team."

As much as I love those otters, when it comes to marriage, holding onto each other is not enough. Although if I were to float away with anyone, he would be my choice, we must also be anchored--to unchanging truth through a relationship with the Lord. 

Our very romantic gift to one another was an exercise rower--our aging metabolisms made that more practical than anything else, but since I've realized the tie in to the Donald Miller metaphor it seems especially appropriate.

This morning the alarm sounded at 5:40 and the love of my life kissed me and said "Happy Anniversary." It was just a moment of romance because there were pets to feed, showers to take, email to return, kids to wake, breakfast to make...but it was a moment that I have carried all day.

I've learned that the whirlwind romance stuff of novels isn't my thing anyway--it is the faithfully showing up in real life, laughing at ourselves, being quick to forgive and seeking & serving the Lord together that sweeps me off my feet.

This is the good stuff...not because it is easy, but because it is deep, true, real and absolutely worth pursuing.

As the kids were packing up for school a little later K slipped me a note with a grin. As I looked at her homemade anniversary card I was reminded that we are not only living out a huge ministry to one another, our marriage is telling a story to our children and to the world at large.

“Marriage is one of the most humbling, sanctifying journeys you will ever be a part of. It forces us to wrestle with our selfishness and pride. But it also gives us a platform to display love and commitment.” 

― Francis Chan, You and Me Forever: Marriage in Light of Eternity

"We loved because He first loved us." -I John 1:9

God designed marriage. It is the most challenging and the most rewarding opportunity we have to practice Christ-like love in this life. God willing, we have a lot of years and their share of trials, triumphs and lessons ahead.

For better or for worse, I am incredibly grateful this man is mine.

Dealing with the Messy Spots

In November I noticed a couple of spots on my dining room and foyer ceilings. I planned on a quick and easy cover up before the holidays--a bit of flat white ceiling paint at best and a small tub of spackle at worst. But, of course, it wasn't that easy.

My house was built in 1950. The ceilings are plaster. They get lumpy, bumpy and crumbly. Repairing them correctly is a dusty, messy all day job. My efficiency-loving self sighed in resignation. I wasn't up for the hassle and decided to ignore it during the already busy holidays.

The holidays brought plenty of distraction via a busy schedule and festive home adornments. Each time I walked through that part of the house I tried to look at other things. I wanted to pretend the problem didn't exist, because acknowledging it meant dealing with it and I didn't want the mess. As I packed up the Christmas decorations the lumpy bumpy ceiling seemed to mock me. I am part of the infrastructure of your house. Are you going to continue to avert your eyes every time you walk through? When are you going to deal with me? 

Ignoring it had postponed, not solved the problem. So, yesterday I welcomed a couple of workers into my home to deal with this yucky spot. I was busy in another part of the house, but when I came in to check on the progress I gasped.

Dealing with this relatively small ceiling spot had impacted 4 rooms of my home.  Furniture was moved, drop cloths were placed, rugs were covered. What a mess! Furthermore, a closer look had revealed other areas that needed repair. Why does it have to be so complicated?

I was reminded of a fundamental truth of repairing and restoring...you generally have to make a big mess before things can get any better. Whether you are cleaning out a purse, a refrigerator or a basement there is a lot of unpacking before you can make progress. Things seem to look a lot worse before the restoration can begin.

And the same is true of relationships.

I felt the Lord tugging on my heart regarding a tender conversation my husband and I were currently working through. So much of me wanted to treat this little place in our marriage like that spot in the ceiling. It's really just a small thing. I'm tired and not in the mood to deal with the mess that might come from a closer examination. What if it reveals more junk? Lord, can't I just keep focusing on all the other perfectly lovely parts? 

My heart knew the answer. Sometimes you just have to suck it up, face the mess and do the work.

By 4pm order had been restored in my home and my relationship is making great progress too.

Maintenance is required to preserve beauty and structural soundness in everything of value.To ignore it is folly--eventually the truth will come out as things begin to crumble. May we not be so fearful of a little messiness that we miss the bigger picture.

As I took the after photo of the house this morning I was reminded of something else: When you see order in other people's lives it is foolish to believe it has always been (or will always be). Sometimes there has been a patching/whitewashing for the sake of appearance--and other times there may have been major reconstruction. It is generally not our business to know.

Instead of trying to dissect the appearances of other people's lives, we are advised to keep an eye on the homes, hearts and lives God has given us to steward. May we be wise enough to examine them and courageous enough to deal with them--willing to do the work with grace and love.

Who's On Your Boat?

I have been offline for a bit due to an amazing opportunity Ryland & I had to serve as hosts for a marriage sailing adventure in the British Virgin Islands. A year and a half ago when we took our first journey with Winshape Marriage we had no idea it would lead to this. I am grateful! 

Prior to last week, I had never been on a catamaran--and yet, ten of us lived onboard one for seven nights. As hosts, our role involved serving guests via meal preparation and dishwashing duty in the tight quarters of a "two booty kitchen." (Quite an adventure some days on rough seas and with a limited water supply)

 

 You certainly won't find me complaining about the chance to 'serve' with this view!

Our days were filled with adventure and our evenings included small group discussion from The Art of Marriage.  We were urged to completely unplug and spend the time we would normally be tethered to devices and distracted by the pull of daily life to invest in each other.  We snorkeled, sea kayaked, swam, hiked, lounged, laughed and took life at a slow pace. 

It was the most refreshing week of my life. 

(This pic just makes me giggle. Rebecca, on the end, sacrificed her hubby/our boat captain to photographer duties.)

And the time with this fella was life giving.

The study materials were full of reminders of foundational truth. My favorite was actually a quote from a woman whose marriage was in a desperate place. She gave up, turning to an affair and moving out before she felt a conviction that said, "Do you not think the God who raised Lazarus from the dead is capable of resurrecting your marriage?" Wow. I just know there are people who need to be reminded of that. This life can be hard, but we serve a BIG God. 

 Though we were there to serve, kitchen duty helped Ryland & me smoothe out some of our marriage's rough edges in working together as a team instead of our typical mode of 'divide and conquer.' Nothing like sequestration in the middle of an ocean with lots of witnesses in close quarters to make you work it out. :)

We truly had a great cloud of witnesses on our boat...dear friends from college and people we really do life with here in our town. Over 50 years of marriage and lots of shared history between us...a beautiful depiction of community and intertwined lives. As we lived 8 days in the close quarters of a 52 foot boat, I basked in the gratefulness of WHO God has put in our figurative life boat.

I realized that I've been intentional about who I parent with, work out with, study Scripture with, etc. Yet, who we 'do' marriage with seems to all too often happen by default. It really matters who we choose to give a voice into this most intimate part our lives. Will they be those who edify or those who invite us to pull away?   

I choose these people (and others like them).

Brave people who walk authentically,

Laugh a lot, 

Listen, 

Cheer each other on, 

Challenge us to live out the fullness of God's plan,

Pitch in without being asked,

Keep short accounts & 

Love well. 

The journey really is marked by the people with whom you travel. I am so grateful for the people on our boat...and especially this one.

And guess what? The kids were fine. They grew in our absence. They welcomed us home with open arms. And they are already benefitting from rested parents whose love tanks returned full and ready to overflow into their hearts.

Last Day in London

Today's goals for our last full day were:
1- Get out of the city,
2- Enjoy a more laid back pace, and
3-Try to accomplish a few of the 7-8 things on our wish list that we hadn't managed to do yet in London.

We didn't have a single reservation, so we had a great deal of flexibility. As an added bonus, the weather was fantastic...crisp & clear in the mid 60s.

We let the kids sleep in until 8am/2am EST (oh, jetlag is going to be a drag!) before heading to the train station for a 20-30 trip to Windsor. This was honestly one of my favorite things we've done. It was so peaceful, yet regal. It reminded me of the Biltmore in North Carolina--except a few centuries older and so very grand!

 

 The love for the Royal Family & the Monarchy in general is so clear here. It was easy to get swept up in the sentimentality of it all. The history is so long and deep. We particularly loved the stories of the knights!

We all wore our audio guides and found much of what they covered very interesting. The sheer grandeur of the castle, chapel and grounds is impressive. I just cannot get over the artistry and craftmanship of the architecture. This trip has reminded me what a young country the U.S. still is! 

We had heard that it was more enjoyable to view the Changing of the Guard at Windsor than at Buckingham Palace...and after visiting the grounds I can see why. Unfortunately, we arrived in time for the 11am ceremony only to discover they had switched to an every other day schedule in the off season. Bummer. 

The grounds here are extensive, so you could spend MUCH more time exploring than we actually did. We gave it two hours before heading back to town, because although this was our 'laid back day,' we are Scotts--and we like to do a lot. :-) 

 From Windsor, we traveled via train & tube to Kensington Gardens where we had a real British tea at the Orangery on the grounds of Kensington Palace.

I have read assorted reviews of this place, so I will add mine. Although we did not have a reservation and were able to walk right in at 2pm. The price was less than many other places in town and the atmosphere was nice. I appreciated the location, because as you will see in subsequent pictures, my children really needed to just RUN for a bit and just outside the doors they could do just that.

The tea was delicious, but I have mixed feelings about the food. We had hoped this would count as lunch...but my 10 year olds couldn't quite find enough in the selection (cucumber sandwich, curried chicken sandwich. egg sandwich, scone & cake) that they loved enough to fill up.

 

We spent an hour and a half after tea exploring the grounds at Kensington. Having just been at Luxembourg Gardens yesterday, I found the feel here to be very different. Kensington was much more natural, relaxing and full of dogs, bikes and kids.

In addition to chasing the ducks and taunting the two dozen swans, my children loved the Diana Memorial Playground. I think they were likely just on the verge of being too old for it, but you would not have known it from watching them play. They thoroughly enjoyed it!

We exited Kensignton Gardens via Notting Hill and took the tube to Picadilly Circus--which is truly a British version of Times Square. We spent 15-20 minutes taking in the atmosphere here before our final adventure to find a pub with fish and chips.

I wish this picture quality was better so you could see how clearly comfortable (perhaps too much so) my children became with the underground!

Tonight has been spent packing up--which made the reality of the extensive travel involved in getting here come crashing in. My final thoughts on this as a family trip are yes, yes, yes. I told Ryland tonight that I wouldn't change anything and he agreed. I wish we had made it to Churchill War Rooms and Cotswold, but as young R said "we will just have to return one day for that!"

Relaxing vacations are fine--but, honestly, this type of travel is far more our family's speed. We are busy bodies who like challenges, learning and exploring. The opportunity to sequester our kids outside of their normal routine, screen free and engaged in adventure is how we bond and grow.

We have been so proud of the way our kids have learned to flex this week--and, honestly, it has been good for our marriage too! The nature of our life at home often requires both Ryland & me to operate very individually. We spend much of our time dividing and conquering. He works long, hard hours and I hold down the fort with kids, bills, house, etc... As a result, working TOGETHER, in concert with one another can often be an adjustment for us. This trip required us to be a team and work things out together and, by golly, we've done it.

Returning home tomorrow with a full heart... but first we must 'pay the piper' with 18 hours of travel!

Road Trips Instead of Roses

This weekend I accepted my husband's invitation to accompany him (kid free) to a work conference on the Georgia Coast. While he spent 10 hours in meetings, I caught up on long-postponed tasks in the quiet of a hotel room. I walked just a bit on the beach each morning and was able to spend some quality time with an old friend who lives in the area. But my absolute favorite part of the trip was 12 hours (out of the 48 we were away) in the car.

We laughed, we dreamed, we planned. We listened to news radio and discussed current events. I read articles aloud to him. We even discussed our wills! I couldn't help but laugh at how stereotypically middle aged we have become. And yet, it was so very good for my soul.

I remembered all over again that we are on the same team...and I am grateful for it.

When I was in my 20s, I thought of romance the way it is often portrayed in novels or splashed across the big screen--epic, dramatic. I am a product of the generation that grew up on protagonists with Peter Gabriel blaring from boomboxes out in the rain. I dated people who were big on presentation and kapow--and realized that sometimes it was more about how it made them feel than it was about me.

I didn't marry a rose petals on the bed kind of guy. Instead, I married a man I can hop in a car with and not particularly worry about where it is headed--because I trust him. I love him. Even when on strange side roads we didn't plan on, I know he will lead us well and absolutely honor me in the process.

His loving gestures happen day in and day out--in the way he prioritizes and orders his life. My man is much more practical than splashy--and I am grateful for that. I pray this is the type of relationship my children hold out for...where the joy is in the companionship on the journey, regardless of the destination or challenges along the way.

Turns out this middle aged Mama isn't searching for a dramatic tango or a place to get my groove back...I just need the gift of devoted time with my faithful man.

And returning home to reminders of just how many people benefit from this investment is icing on the cake.

The Gifts of Kindness & Grace at Home

*I accidentally deleted this post from last night. This is a repost.*

"He's not the person I married."
"Kids changed things."
"I feel like I don't know him anymore."
"There is just a distance."

I have had this heart-wrenching conversation many times in the last couple of years as marital problems changed from something people my parents' age discussed in hushed tones to being a personally relevant topic for my friends. Hours have been spent over coffee or phone lines trying to dissect where things got off track and how to resurrect them.

And here's what I realize at mid life: my husband isn't the man I married any more than I am the woman he married. Of course we aren't.  Life is dynamic. People grow, change and are marked by circumstances. It is a fact of life. We can allow this truth to divide or have it unite, encourage and push 'us' in a new and different direction. We pledged for better or for worse--not for 'same.'

I adore my husband and am incredibly grateful for all he is to our family, but life is busy and we are both tired. He spends his days focused on the needs of patients and demands that are constantly being put on him. I often feel like I've spent all day "on call' serving our family and performing mindnumbing household tasks.

What both of us want at the end of the day is to collapse into a little kindness. If we both enter the evening wrapped up in our own pity parties of how tired we are, with an expectation that the other needs to serve us or give us some space--trouble will brew. In many ways home can be the hardest place to show grace. Especially when we retreat there to have our own needs met and collide into the reality of people who need us back.

Increasingly I am realizing that the secret to relationships that last are the little things. It seems like such an oversimplification of the complexities of relationships, but as I read this article from The Atlantic on kindness and generosity in marriage, science reinforced what our faith teaches us about focusing on others. When we strive to believe the best--and respond to the little cues we get from one another--both partners are happier. As Glennon Melton says, "Somebody's got to pour that first glass..."

Frankly, on long Summer days with kids, I have learned this method of choosing love works wonders too. Freely given. Unearned. Breathing deeply and deciding to respond in love when I don't particularly feel like it. It is grace.

"I am on your team."
"I like you."
"Can I help?"
"I am glad we get to be in the same family."
"I'm sorry."

Kindness is highly effective on the toughest adolescent personality in my home. We can lock horns like rams and exhaust ourselves getting nowhere or I can inhale, pray and do the hard thing: love instead of fight. I am amazed at the results. Our kids have hearts like ours--looking for acceptance no matter what.

Crossing battle lines instead of drawing them...it's the way God loves us. When we 'get' that--allowing ourselves to be moved and changed--we will be more willing to pour grace out on those around us.

It's how I want to be treated--better than I deserve. It is what I want my heart, life and home to be marked by--and I am learning that this kind of love reaps its own beautiful reward.

Marriage & the Moon

Sunday afternoon my friend Cabell & I pretended we were young and spontaneous by taking a 7 hour road trip to Nashville and back for Ellie Holcomb's CD release party. The event was exciting, the music was incredible, and the uninterrupted time for conversation with my wise friend was a true gift.

We talked a lot about what life looks like here in the neighborhood of 40 years old--how perspectives are different and what we are learning to let go versus cling to. It was good, soul refreshing stuff.

As we discussed marriage I mentioned that my husband & I were emerging from a season that I can only describe as being at a gathering in a crowded room full of people. It's a fun party. Surrounded by people we (mostly) enjoy, with lots of opportunities for enriching conversation, laughter and the like...but I spend most of this metaphorical night separated from my partner. Occasionally our eyes meet across the crowd. I love him so. I am secure in the fact that he loves me too, but jealous for the time other people are getting with my husband.

This is how the last several months have been for me. We keep trying to make our way across the room to each other--but are slowed down and distracted by this person or that conversation. I just want him to come grab my hand and pull me out onto the terrace--where it is quiet and less crowded--free from work, kids, bills, decisions, deacon duties, small groups, board meetings and the guilt that I'm not managing things well enough. (Sounds like we need a weekend away!)    

But a weekend away in and of itself won't 'solve' this--the fact of the matter is that, to some degree, it's just life. And at the end of this crazy party, I know I get to go home with him.

Thankfully, our commitment is strong. We are in a season of older, deeper, more secure love. Where it used to be that holding my hand sent sparks, it now centers me. Snuggling up next to him now is less about heart-pounding excitement and more about security and peace. It sounds so old and boring, but it feels so safe and good.

During Ellie's concert Sunday night she had her husband, Drew Holcomb, join her onstage to perform one of my favorites--Hung the Moon. I recognized the first few chords and was so excited. As the song went on, I noticed they had changed the arrangement. Initially, I was disappointed. They had slowed down the tempo. The once bubbly song now sounded more like a thoughtful ballad. I appreciated that the notes were lower, richer and each lyric lingered a bit longer.

And I thought of my twelve year old marriage. The tempo is different--the lyrics seem to get richer with age. We aren't the same people we were when they were written. But the song--it is the same. And it is still my favorite.

"I put on that white dress for you, uh-huh.
Told that preacher man, 'Yes, I do' uh-huh.
I'll stay here and grow grey with you uh-huh.
I like the way you hung the moon uh-huh."
-From "Hung the Moon" by Drew & Ellie Holcomb

The Dent in my Marriage

A few Saturdays afternoons ago, my husband came home to a driveway full of neighborhood children playing. In order to give them as much space as possible for their basketball game, he parked right behind my big Suburban.

An hour or so later, K & I got in my car to go run an errand. Just as we were fastening our seatbelts, my husband came dashing out the back door. He clearly had something to tell me before I left. I rolled down my window and he inexplicably told me the most random thing.

As he turned to walk inside I was still looking at the back of him--pondering what had been so urgent about that particular statement. I somewhat unconsciously put the car in reverse, took my foot off the brake and gunned the accelerator.

I am still not sure which of my senses clued in first. Almost simultaneously my brain registered the sound of my back up sensor squealing, the sight of my always even-keeled husband twirling around and throwing the contents of his hands on the ground in frustration and the feeling of crashing hard into something behind me.

K, in a voice only a tweeny 9.75 year old can muster broke the deafening silence that followed: "Ummm, Mom, what just happened?"

I was so paralyzed as I tried to process, that I didn't even think to pull forward until my eyes finally met my husband's. Then placing the car in park, I jumped out to survey the damage and apologize profusely.

Is this the right time to mention that this is the first car my frugal husband has purchased for himself in 20 years? Or that it barely had 1000 miles on it? My little absent minded reverse did thousands of dollars of damage.

We sat in silence for a minute. It was an accident--an innocent mistake. It wasn't a pet or a person. It was just a car. But, I felt terrible (and grateful that I married a man with patience and restraint--which made me feel even more guilty.)

As I apologized my husband said, "I was coming out to tell you..."
Before I could even ask why he had chosen to tell me something random instead of reminding me the car was parked there, I realized the answer.
"And you changed your mind because you know how defensive I get..."
He slowly nodded yes.

See, I have an issue with pride. I have a hair trigger for feeling condescended to or treated as if I'm not smart. It has presented an issue in my marriage from time to time. My husband is really intelligent--and when I am in a phase of 'woe-is-me-housewife' (not in a good place) I hear things through the filter of "I'm telling you this because I think you are an idiot." Of course those words have never come out of my husband's mouth...it's just my junk. We all have it.

Choosing to not risk hurting my pride (or poke the bear I can be) the man I married changed his mind about reminding me...and it cost him.

A couple of days later I was recounting the story with my trainer and her husband, who is currently in graduate school to be a marriage counselor. He asked my permission to share this story with his clients as a humorous example. I agreed and then pressed further...what, exactly, is this an example of?

We agreed there were many points to dissect about the dynamic of our relationship...but that in the end, I had created an environment where it wasn't safe for my spouse to speak freely. In order to avoid the repercussions of my defensiveness, his bumper took the hit instead. And as I have continued to pray through the event, my pride has been impacted as well.

The lesson of this story is that marriage requires tough conversations some times--and while self control and kindness are invaluable--there MUST be room for truth to be spoken. If truth cannot be spoken within the sacred bonds of love, where can it be?

A damaged car is one thing, but long term these lessons serve as caution flags to avoid damaging trust, intimacy and our very hearts. And while my husband's bumper is damaged, our marriage has a permanent mark that we are committing to view as for the better. After a dozen years of marriage, this is a lesson that can serve us well.

We don't have immediate plans for repairing the dent...sometimes it is good to be reminded of the places you've crashed, so you can be a bit more cautious and pay attention in the future.

From a Distance

 

We are aboard a gorgeous clipper this week. Each time we leave and return in port we are struck by how absolutely picturesque and ideal it appears. And yet, an offhanded comment by a fellow passenger last night really struck me.

While there are 130 passengers aboard, there are also 80 crew working constantly behind the scenes to keep our vessel in tip top shape. As we walk about the boat someone is constantly not just mopping, but polishing brass, straightening chairs, picking up glasses, even painting various parts of the ship.

This morning I couldn't escape this truth. To be entranced only by the beauty of a relationship, a career, a call and neglect to take a closer look at all the 'unseen' upkeep and work to make it happen would be only half the story.

There are multiple implications of this truth, but because I am on a marriage retreat I can't help but consider it through that lens. When we meet couples who appear to have it all together on the surface, it would behoove us to draw near and examine the truth---of the storms their relationships have endured, the preparations they made before launching, what they have elected to throw overboard along the way, how they chart (and adjust) their course, and the reality of the upkeep they prioritize to keep things 'shipshape.'

Honestly, there was a time when the references to marriage being 'work' made me groan...seriously, that is NOT the Disney princess fairy tale I longed for as a little girl. Wasn't 'true love' meant to conquer all and come easily and without struggle?

As I grow up, I have learned to embrace this part of life. Whether it be career, parenthood, marriage, friendships or working out...life is teaching me how much richer the enjoyment when there is 'sweat equity' involved. Aren't we far more bonded to the experiences and relationships that resulted from struggle and commitment than we are to the things that seemed to fall into our lap?

It is counter culture, but life is reminding me again and again to think long term, to not be afraid of work and to trust God that the payoff of character development, deep-rooted commitment is worth the investment.

May our desires not be for pinterest or facebook-worthy surface appearances, but for a heart and life that reflect the glory of God upon up close inspection too.  It's work, but I believe with all my heart it is worth it!

I pray that each time in life I am tempted to covet this,

I will remember this.

Getting Away

We started planning this trip 18 months ago...a belated celebration of our 10th anniversary. Tomorrow morning we set sail for a week with Winshape Marriage on a gorgeous clipper, with a speaker at night and adventure in various ports in Nicaragua & Costa Rica by day.

Getting away is not easy. I confess to leaving a 12 page packet for the relay team of grandparents and beloved babysitters who will be holding down the fort in our absence. I am exhausted from the preparation and have Mommy guilt that we will miss opening day baseball and soccer games. But, we are choosing this week to make our marriage relationship and our relationship with God the priority. It's a long term investment.

This weekend I had the pleasure of hearing from author/speaker Nicole Unice (more on that in a subsequent post) but one of the things she said that convicted me most was that when our width of influence exceeds our depth of spiritual life, we will fail.

It is easy to dismiss this by taking for granted the influence each of us really have. As Nicole pointed out, simply by virtue of parenthood many of us have great influence--there are souls entrusted to our care! And what about the influence we have in our workplace, neighborhoods, schools, communities, extended families? Intentionally seeking depth is vital. Ever seen what happens to a tree with shallow roots when the first big storm comes along?

I find the same to be true in relationships. The grass is greener where you water it. And it's not usually easy or convenient. Sometimes, frankly, the work makes you question if it is even worth it...and then you see a bud start to bloom.

I am looking forward to this adventure. We need this time. I am certainly going to miss my children. We have never been away from them this long. I know they are in excellent hands with people that love them---but especially on the heels of the loss of a Mom friend this week, my mind wants to creep into worst case scenarios.

I am being called to put my faith to the test. Do I really trust not just the sitters, but that my Lord has a will? That He has a plan? That He will care for all of us while we are apart?

My dear mentor, Anita, reminded me today that we will all grow from this and return with stories to tell. It made me smile--and it made me gulp. I admit that I feel a little sad when my kids have stories of grand adventure that I missed--which is probably exactly why we need to go. To be reminded that God is writing a story in each of their lives and as they get older, it won't always involve us.

As it was said by Bette Midler's character in the movie Parental Guidance. "After your kids grow up, your husband is the one who stays."

I will console myself with quality time, sleeping in, gorgeous views and glorious temps.

So, here's to growth and adventure...for all of us!

Clinging

I had a rich conversation with a long distance friend this morning via a 'coffee phone date.' We lamented the rash of divorces and separations in our communities. We questioned if it is in fact as epidemic as it feels or if we were simply getting older and reaching the age (40ish) when marriages either make it or they don't.

Our conversation was based on generalizations, not case by case dissection, but we discussed the stress and strain of young children and the havoc it can wreak on a marriage. Children are indeed a precious gift...but they are a typhoon that royally rock the boats of even the most steadfast couples.

I started thinking about what people do in trying circumstances--when storms rage all around, most instinctively seek shelter and/or cling to lifelines. Even as we take marital vows we pledge to leave our mother and father and cleave to one another.

But what happens when we cling to something else in the inevitable storms of life? What if our shelter/identity comes not in Christ, but in our career? Or we depend on a substance to empower us and develop secret means of coping rather than engaging in community where we can be real about our struggles? Our affections and attentions are devoted solely to our offspring not our spouse? We can't wait for a girls night to escape from our husbands instead of date nights to escape with him? We are more filled up outside our homes than we are within?

What are you clinging to?

In many of the relationships I am mourning it seems that the most trying days of early childhood are over. Parents are emerging from their storm shelters and rather than finding themselves bonded from the trial, they are exhausted strangers. In many cases they have either left each other emotionally or have hurt each other deeply. They have fought each other instead of joining forces against their trials. Serious damage has been done. One or both are ready for a fresh start.

And I keep wondering what young couples need to hear to keep from getting to this place.

This will of course be an oversimplification of many complex issues, but tonight in my heart it boils down to this. Find shelter in your God and your spouse. Come what may cling to one another. "A cord of three strands is not easily broken." Do not allow yourself to be deceived into thinking that clinging to anything or anyone else will work. It is a recipe for disaster.

Clinging does not guarantee that the journey will be easy. Life is hard. Anyone who tells you otherwise is lying. I couldn't help but laugh to myself remembering the viral kid president video: "Two roads diverged in the woods and I took the road less traveled... AND IT HURT MAN!! Really bad. Rocks! Thorns! Glass! Not cool, Robert Frost!"

This is why God gave us helpmates--to bear the load. To fight as a team against the troubles of this world--NOT against each other.

Grab hold. Cling. Don't let go!

Then when the storms pass (notice it was plural) and you crawl out of your shelter, there will be a shared sense of overcoming. A true hard fought victory. A rainbow of promises kept.

*I just feel led to acknowledge that this is so much easier to write about than to accomplish. It is complicated by involving two sinful people in a broken world. I have so much passion for marriage because I hate the pain that the brokenness of these bonds continues to cause in the lives of folks I care about. I pray my heart's intent is accomplished here...encouragement not judgment.

Dating Him

My husband has a class at Cornell this weekend, so we decided to tack 2 1/2 days of couple time on the front of the trip. With a small dose of guilt I left my primary daily role of homemaker to spend some time focusing only on my role as spouse.

After typing up the lists for family members who will be shuttling, feeding, supervising and holding down the fort in our absence, we headed for the airport. My husband spent his time dictating cases, fielding calls and 'tidying up' his practice. I had a few moments reflecting on the time, expense and preparation required to get away and wondering if it was worth it. 

When we arrived at the airport and were standing in line I looked up at my husband and smiled. It was the first time all day amidst our rushing and preparing that we had stopped to just look each other in the eyes. He smiled back and asked,  
"Did you get a facial or something? Your face looks different." 
I laughed (and reminded myself it was intended as a compliment.)
"Nope."
"It must just be your vacation face," he grinned.
It struck me how very often it is the case with those we love, than we do life without pausing to really see each other.

Then scrolling through twitter, as if on cue, I stumbled upon this quote: 
"Simply living life changes us; we’ve got to keep pursuing our spouses or risk becoming a stranger to the person we married." Gary Thomas 

In the early days of our marriage, a fellow newlywed friend had a cute comeback she used whenever her husband rolled his eyes at one of her antics. 
"Well, I am just being the woman you married."

I attempted to use that little zinger once--after making a significant financial decision without consulting my husband. I still cringe when I reflect on the immaturity I displayed. We were young marrieds--just learning the rhythm of matrimony. Suffice it to say, my husband didn't think my comeback was very cute. 

I will never forget his reply: "See, that's just it. You can't just be the woman I married. We are still growing and learning. Getting married doesn't mean you stop. You just do it together."

Eleven years later I agree completely. I am not the woman he married--and he is not the man I married. Time, perspective, life events have changed us. That can be feared or it can be embraced, but it cannot be denied. And so, to Gary Thomas' point, we must remain in pursuit of one another's hearts. 

Whether it is tacking a day or two on a business trip, sending the children for an overnight with the grandparents or a weekend marriage retreat... we must remember the vows we made to love, honor and cherish. Those are not one time words, they are active. Life is a dynamic process. If we aren't growing we are dying, so we face a choice: We can grow together or we can grow apart.

Taking a step away from the hamster wheel to be intentional about 'dating' each other isn't always convenient...but it is beneficial. Yesterday we had absolutely no plans until 8pm when we met old friends for dinner. We spent the day carefree, exploring the city. It was a day that might has well have been a week.

We held hands. We had adventure. It was just the two of us against the city. We laughed. We reconnected. We took a break from the rat race that threatens to engulf us and amidst this city that never sleeps--we rested. And it was good. 

We aren't the people we married, but we are in this together. Glory be to God.

We did it!

Back in August when I told my husband I was planning to do this race, he quickly offered to join me. He hasn't run AT ALL since a serious foot injury 13 years ago and as time ticked on it became clear that he was not going to be able to train. He managed to squeeze only one training run in two weeks ago and it was less than two miles.

Ever a man of his word, he laced up his old running shoes this morning to join me. His 'old' Asics are 14 years old to be exact...they actually fell apart from dry rot at the end of the race. Seriously.

Because I am nothing if not ferociously independent, I rebuffed his offer to run 'with' me. I had been training alone. I knew he'd be faster than me. I also didn't want to get into a squabble while running if I wanted to quit and he pushed me... So we started together and planned to reunite at the finish line. In the course of our 'real' daily lives this 'divide and conquer' strategy frequently works for us.

During the course of the first mile, he pulled about 75 yards ahead of me and then his pace slowed a bit. There was a rough patch through the woods (after a monster hill I wasn't expecting) where I had to power walk for a minute. As I emerged from those woods I could see his white shirt. We weren't close enough to speak and I didn't know if he realized I was trailing him--but for the last mile and a half, he was my pace car. He never looked back, but I had a sense he knew I was there. I followed him all the way across the finish line.

Do you see me following in the distance?

 

And as he crossed the finish line he stopped, turned and waited to greet me. I wept. 

My tears were a release of all the anxiety I had tied up in this goal. 

I was humbled with gratitude at how my health has been restored since that hospital bed 8.5 years ago. 

I was overwhelmed by the tenderness of my husband, who after 11 years of marriage knows how to lead stubborn old me. (Even when it means running 3.2 miles in dry rotting shoes.)

  

Before I was married, I treasured the analogy of Christian singlehood being a race where you should run as hard and fast as you could while focused on the Lord. As the adage went, one day you'd hear someone else running beside you as hard and fast as you were. At that point you would reach out, grab their hand and run the rest of the race together. I loved the imagery.

I had my real life version of that today--only I got to experience the freedom and joy of following. There was a time when that would have made no sense to me at all. I would have demanded equality at all costs and tried to make a case for why I should even be leading much of the time. But today, knowing the heart of my teammate, nothing brought me more comfort and strength than following my strong and consistent leader. 

I didn't do it today. We did.

I am exceedingly grateful for my man.

A "Real Life" First Day of School

I started a cute post last night about all of my back to school preparations. I was so proud of my new allowance jar system and the laminated morning lists I had made--both to reduce Mommy nagging and teach responsibility. Backpacks and shoes were all lined up in my new mudroom. I even ironed uniforms (a hot dryer is our usual MO) and had them hanging in bedrooms ready to wear. No more Unglued Mama mornings for me! It was going to be smooth as silk.

I got up early (not my forte) and made muffins, sausage and scrambled eggs when my husband left for work. Susie Homemaker was in the house! How could it not be an awesome first day? My kids were going to look crisp, have full tummies and be loved up and confident for their first day.

And then, real life entered the picture.

My moodiest child came downstairs under a dark cloud. I chirped "Good morning!" and was greeted with a growl. He took one look at breakfast and started crying. Awesome. I will spare you the details of what transpired over the next few minutes, but he was ultimately sent back up to his room to restart his day with a different attitude. One child crying by 6:45am. Not exactly what I'd planned.

We hustled and bustled through bed making, hair grooming and getting our acts together as the clock ticked towards 7:35. As we were all heading for the back door as scheduled, K was still in sock feet.
"Where are you shoes?"
"I don't know...I've looked everywhere and can't find them." Her lip quivered. Crying child #2 by 7:30. I was on a roll!

As we were buckling in R decided the snack he packed yesterday was absolutely not what he wanted today and tearfully begged to go back inside the locked house and trade it. I had to make a choice between 'insuring' he was happy/had a smooth start and sticking to my guns about choices and responsibility. This was not in my plan!!

When we got to school P realized his water bottle had made it to his mud room locker, but not to his backpack. And despite all of my planning, traffic and other snags had us running into school as the bell rang. I snapped one photo...

(a pretty accurate person-by-person account of how everyone was feeling seconds before entering their classrooms)

They darted into their rooms. I didn't get to tell them how much I loved them. I didn't even get a hug. They were off.

To top things off, as we walked back to the car, I was snippy with my husband--who had pushed back his cases, gone in extra early and rearranged his day to be present. Within the safety of our car, I cried an ugly cry. I couldn't even explain why, but I was overwhelmed with disappointment. Despite my preparations, we'd had a bumpy start. I had such high expectations, but wound up feeling like a Grade A Mommy failure. I wanted a fairy tale morning and I got real life.

But you know that the great thing about my real life is? I have a loving husband who sat and listened to me sob before reminding me of wise truth. He pointed out that the kids didn't have nearly the morning I did. They were tucked away in their classrooms with their friends and great teachers. They were excited to be wearing new tennis shoes and learning all the ropes of being a 2nd grader. They KNOW they are loved. They are learning responsibility the way 8 year olds learn, by making mistakes and trying again the next day. He concluded by assuring me they were NOT rehashing the morning beating themselves up over lost shoes and being 10 minutes behind schedule.

This is one day. Godwilling, we have hundreds more this year....some will be fantastic and most will be imperfect. This is life.

I looked across at him and through my tears said, "Why are you so loving, calm and wise when you are married to such a mess?"
He grinned and teasingly said, "Because we'd be in real trouble if we both went crazy."

I came home to a cup of coffee, a quiet house desperately in need of cleaning, one more good cry, humble prayer and a couple of authentic phone chats with women I love. Real life is unpredictable--it's why real community and real faith are essential.  Let's not forget to continue encouraging one another to keep our focus on what really matters--the marathon--rather than becoming defeated over a few stumbles along the way. The measure of a Mom...of any person, really...is not one chaotic morning.

Thank you, Lord, for that!

UPDATED after school:
As predicted, they got in the car and unanimously answered my daily questions-- the best part was 'everything' and the worst part was 'nothing.'

I am pretty sure Mom learned the most of all today.