Throwback Thursday - 15 Years of Marriage

I've spent the last 17 years of our existence trying to use words to tell you how much I love you. I used to write you letters - after we had spent 18 out of 24 hours together - confessing how much I loved you and how much you meant to me. (Which reminds me: where are those letters? We really should burn them.) As inadequate as I've found words to be in expressing this love, I'm going to try again.

When we made our vows 15 years ago, I suspected some of them might be hard to keep. (Even after we omitted the word "obey".) As it turns out, "Forsaking all others and keeping only unto him," has been the easiest promise I ever made.

There is no one like you. 7 billion people on the earth and none compares favorably to you. You're my favorite person, past or present.

17 years ago you'd walk by and I'd think, "I love that boy."

Today - after fights and growing up and giving birth and losing a baby and moving and crying and learning not to be selfish and saying goodbye to people we love and choosing to do the right thing even when it was lonely and holding on tight because we were all we had - I see you across a room and I still think, "I love that boy."

I know your faults - better than anyone - and you know mine. But I'd rather deal with your faults than anyone else's strengths. And despite my faults, you still treat me like I'm worthy and beautiful and funny, rather than flawed, bitter, & neurotic.

We both know I'm not a "people pleaser". I don't spend a lot of energy trying to make other people happy. But you are the exception. I so much desire to make you happy every day. A day where I don't make you laugh is not a good day.

You - we both know this is true - are not a good gift giver. But that's OK because your smile and your time, your attention and your joy in just being with me, those are my favorite gifts that you give me anyway.

So, we didn't get to go on our big trip this year. Moving and EVERYTHING WE OWN breaking down and dental issues and so on (otherwise known as real life) have postponed all those plans we made about our next overseas trip.

I'm OK with that. I'd rather be with you, doing real life stuff, than with anyone else going to exotic places and doing anything else.

So, fifteen years in and I still get to be be your Leia ("I am not a committee."), and Leeloo ("Multipass!") and Arwen ("I choose a mortal life."), or, if you prefer, Eowyn ("I am no man."). And I will listen to you describe your game designs and I will cheer for you and sometimes I'll even play.

And you will continue to be my Mr. Darcy, Mr. Knightley, Henry Tilney, Captain Wentworth, Gilbert Blythe, John Thornton, & Percy Blakeney all in one. I'll base some characters in my stories on you, even though critics might say my heroes "aren't realistic" because they're just too amazing. What do they know about romantic heroes anyway?

Marriage to you has been better than a dream come true, because no matter how good I imagined it would be (and we both know my imagination can be quite wild), it is far better than I ever could have dreamed.

What do the next 15 years hold? I don't know. Probably weddings, and maybe even our first grandbabies, and maybe more moving (please, no!), and more than a few fights and then making up, more dental visits than we care to think about, and hopefully at least another trip to England (or two...) and across the country to see the ocean again, and more reading, writing, talking, dreaming, praying, singing, scolding, enduring, loving, and more just plain living than we can imagine at this moment. 

I may have only been 18 when I committed to God and you in front of all our friends and family (and those people neither of us knew) to love you for all of my life. I know I had no conception of how long or short that might be, or what that really meant. But I can tell you this now, 15 years later, older and wiser and way more exhausted: if I had 100 lives to live, I would choose you every time.

Previous anniversary posts: 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013.
Throwback Thursday: 30 Things I've Learned About Marriage

"How Do I Look?" Advice for Husbands

Dear Husbands,

When we ask you how we look, it's not because we're trying to torture you. Yes, we know, to you this question is a minefield. There are so many wrong answers possible. I'm going to spill some secrets here and tell you both WHY we do it and a few ways you can answer correctly.

1. We need someone to tell us if something is wrong. Stains, rips, buttons askew, unmatched shoes - maybe you couldn't care less if they happen to you. But we care - a lot. Help us out - we've been wrangling toddlers (or teenagers) all day. Presentable is the new standard and you can help us meet it. And please, PLEASE, just tell us if our skirts are tucked into our tights. So. Not. Cool.

source: K Michiels

2. We need someone - namely you - to care. When you answer "fine" or "OK" or worst of all, you don't answer at all, we interpret that as you are busy, you don't care or, on a really bad day, that you don't love us anymore and we are destined to live out the rest of our natural lives in a loveless, lonely marriage and... OK, yes, we can get a bit carried away. Please don't let that happen.

If we ask you which shirt is better, tell us which one you like and maybe even why. ("It matches your eyes," "It looks happier," "It feels better when we hug," are all possible winning answers.)

We're asking your opinion not just because we don't have any girlfriends handy, but because your opinion carries so much weight.

source: John Brian Silverio

3. We need someone to remember. When you say something like, "I like that dress because it reminds me of that one you wore when we were dating," well, that's gold right there. That's Pass Go & Collect $200 in wife world.

We want to know what you like. If you think one hairstyle is better than another, for heaven's sake, SAY SO. Fixing hair can be a time-consuming task. Save us the effort if you prefer down or up or curled or braided. Do you want us to wear eye makeup or a darker lipstick or less makeup altogether? What do we wear to make you think about when we first fell in love? Is there a scent or perfume you like better than the others? Don't just think it - say it.

See, this isn't just academic. We do this for you. Sure, we want to be presentable to the world. We'd rather not walk out in public in unflattering clothes. But the real goal is to see a sparkle in your eyes. If you tell us which shirt you like best, I guarantee you'll see that shirt more often.

source:Entre Dans le Reve

Let's recap:

• Don't say: That's hideous.
• Do say: I like your (insert specific article of clothing here) more.

• Don't say: Fine.
• Do say: I love when you wear (specific item here).

• Don't say: nothing.
• Do say: Hon, you're wearing two different shoes. Tell me which one you want and I'll go get it. [bonus points!]

• Don't say: I wish you looked like you did when we were dating. [author's note: this is considered grounds for divorce in all 50 states.]
• Do say: That (specific article of clothing) reminds me of when we were dating, OR I love it when you wear my team colors, OR pretty much anything else other than the above statement.

Get it? We're dressing for you. We want to know you care, that you notice us, and that you love us enough not to let us go out with spaghetti sauce stains down our sleeves.

If I can assist you further in these matters, do write.

Sincerely yours,
A Wife
[*author's note: this letter was not precipitated by any incorrect action on the part of the author's own fabulous husband. It is advice purely for the betterment of marriages everywhere.]

Linking up with:

Stretching Me

Our family of seven (SEVEN!) still fits in our mini-van. Barely.

Every seat is taken. When we go on a road trip we're packed like sardines in there. (Sample dialog: "No, that case goes under her feet, the pillows go by her.")

I'm sure you can imagine it. Tigger, being neither the oldest nor the youngest, and no longer requiring a car-seat or booster, well, she gets the middle of the back seat. This is probably the worst seat in the van. No window to herself, no cupholder, nowhere to lean her head.

Plus she has a younger sister on either side and at times they both want her attention. On our last trip to Tennessee for Thanksgiving, each sister was pulling the arm closest to her. Tigger tolerated it for a bit but she finally wailed, "They're stretching me!"

We made her sisters leave her alone and all was peaceful in the backseat again, at least momentarily.

But I, as I am wont to do, thought about what she said.

"They're stretching me."

And I realized that sometimes, that's what God is allowing to happen to me too.

Take my children, for instance. They need me. A Lot. There are meals and messes and library books and concerts and laundry and squabbles and diapers and hugges and kisses and band-aids and baths and...the list could go on for a while.

Here I am, at 32 years old. When I was younger I had ideas of Being Someone or at least Doing Something Big. Those ideas didn't usually involve people wiping their noses on my skirt or washing bowls caked with oatmeal at ten o'clock at night. Again.

But, as tired as I am and as long as the days are, I see how God gives me grace to stretch for those needs.

Then there are the realities of our life. I see a smaller than average income (for the U.S. standard of living) and a larger than average family. The numbers don't seem to work on paper.

And yet, every month, the miracle of all our needs, loads of our wants and even some things we hadn't imagined, are covered. The budget isn't the only thing that stretches when that happens.

Then there's our marriage. We've been married 14 1/2 years. We've been a couple for two and half years longer than that and we've known each other since 1985 (I was four, he was eight. Love at first sight? Probably not. But who's to say, since I can't remember that far back?). We know each other incredibly well.

And yet, there are times when we look at each other and think (or even say out loud): I can't believe you just did that. Do you love me / respect me / care about me / know me at all? Marriage is a stretching business.

Being a family is a stretching business. The to-do list grows longer. Nerves fray. Tempers flare. Tears fall.

Then we have to apologize (yes, we all do, even the parents. Especially the parents.). Sometimes we need to get more rest. We say "no" to outside things and settle down together to get through another tough season. We hug. We make-up. We put on happy music or quiet music or Miss Lili's favorite music so she can fall asleep. We try to say loving things, do loving things, think loving things, even if we don't feel them at the moment.

And I am stretched to be so much more than I had imagined. See, the good news about the stretching God does in my life is that I am not a rubber band that will eventually snap. I'm not even one of those creepy stretching toys where the arms eventually become hideous and deformed.

I am made to stretch. I am made to grow and change and mature. When I am allowing God to work that way in my life, I'm actually following His plan to become more like His Son and less like whatever limited vision I had of myself.

One of the great singer-songwriters of my parents' generation wrote a bittersweet song about grown-up life called Coming Around Again. I like the whole song but my favorite is the chorus where she sings, "Don't mind if I fall apart. There's more room in a broken heart."

OK, maybe it's cheesy. But that's really what it's like. Marriage and Motherhood will break your heart. They'll stretch you more than you thought possible. Then you find out there is more room in a heart broken by love for these people God has entrusted to you. You find out that you can stretch, yes, one more time, one more runny nose, one more sick child at two a.m., one more dropped bag of groceries, one more hurt feelings episode, one more dentist visit, one more temper tantrum.

Being stretched is God's way of making more of me than I would choose to be. God's refining process for His children is not always some Big Grand Thing That Must Be Done. Sometimes, many times, it's just getting up in the morning and doing what we're supposed to do, when we're supposed to do it, in the way He wants it done.

Are you being stretched too? Let's encourage each other.

This post is linked to Titus 2sday hosted by The Time-Warp Wife.

Happy 11th Wedding Anniversary

to my best friend and all around favorite person in the entire world.

Song of Solomon 5:16 - ...This is my beloved and this is my friend...

How Do I Love Thee?

You know the rest, right?

"Let me count the ways". And, despite the fact that the movie 10 Things I Hate About You (based on Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew) used that quote, it's actually by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Whom you ought to read today and tomorrow in honor of Valentine's. Seriously. She's that romantic.

Over at Heart of The Matter Online folks are talking about why they love their spouses. It's supposed to be in video format but, well, I don't do video format. So I thought I would link to my post in which I describe "Why I Call Him Prince Charming".

Just so you know, I could list a lot more reasons. But I'll save those for another time.

Happy Anniversary!

Happy (belated) Anniversary!

My parents have been married 29 years, as of July 22nd. They are a godly, loving example to my own Prince Charming & me. They have raised and homeschooled 4 (obviously) wonderful children and I cannot thank them enough! Now they are the beloved Granddad and Gram to my own girls. Tigger especially seems to think that Gram is her own personal property. She'll share Gram with Sweet Pea, but only with the understanding that really Gram is hers.

Almost Over...

Well, the week without Prince Charming continues to drag on. And on. We did go visit him Wednesday night for chapel. The girls really enjoyed being at camp again. I enjoyed seeing my husband and some more of my family but it was honestly a lot of work just to get there and get back. They all wanted me to consider going back out tonight (the last night). Well, I've considered and I don't think it's going to happen. He'll be home in the morning. Just about 17 hours from now. Not that I'm counting...

Today has just been a tough day. Tigger has had some real obedience - setbacks, shall we call them? - and potty training issues. Polly has been busy with one of her favorite pastimes. Yes, that would be tattling. She honestly just can't help it. She has too much of, ahem, me in her. If there was a crown for biggest boss and tattler of a sister it would have gone to me, as Lulu and Princess will attest. But my own little darling may be challenging my title. How did my own parents stand it?!

Of course I had many ambitious plans for this week. Why I thought I would get more done without my husband around I have no idea. Call it temporary insanity. Needless to say, although this is my blog so I will say it anyway, none of those ambitious / unrealistic things have gotten done.

I have had quite an Austen splurge this week. Yes, in Prince Charming's absence I have gorged myself on all my Jane Austen movies. I've saved my favorite, Pride and Prejudice, for tonight.

I've already watched Emma, Persuasion, and Sense and Sensibility. I threw in a new to me mini-series, North and South (NOT the the cheesy 1980's Patrick Swayze feature, the classy BBC period drama, what kind of girl do you think I am?) for good measure. I will not need to watch any movies for at least a month or two. I rarely watch anything but this is what boredom will lead you to.

I did finish Wendy Shalit's new book, Girls Gone Mild (which I highly recommend!), just in case you have a mental image of me lounging on my sofa eating bon-bons and watching Regency Romances. I was not. Not that I wouldn't have if I actually had any bon-bons, but that's beside the point.

And my house is cleaner than usual. I don't know if that means that Prince Charming is messier than the rest of us or that I only clean when I'm bored but it's probably the latter. I hate cleaning so much that Polly actually thinks it's fun. So maybe that will turn out well for her. She'll eventually rebel by being one of those "How Clean is Your House" ladies.

This day in history...

...This is my beloved and this is my friend... Song of Solomon 5:16

June 19, 1999