Love · Perspective · Uncategorized

The Scientist – Dating my Husband

One of my favorite songs the past few weeks is “The Scientist” by Coldplay. It came out over a decade ago, but recently it caught my ear. It’s easy to sing. I enjoy the minor tones. And I love the message that I take from it:

Come up to meet you, tell you I’m sorry
You don’t know how lovely you are

I had to find you
Tell you I need you
Tell you I set you apart

Tell me your secrets
And ask me your questions
Oh, let’s go back to the start

I’m not sure if I’m taking the written message the right way, but to me it’s all about making that connection. Making the EFFORT to make that connection

Running in circles
Coming up tails
Heads on a science apart

Nobody said it was easy
It’s such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be this hard

We’ve been together since 2000. My oh my. That does seem like ages ago.

I was starting my senior year of high school. He was starting his sophomore year of college. Our dates consisted of Messenger chats and him coming back to my high school for my sporting events and a few hours of time together after they were done.

I did go on a date with someone else in college. I wanted to test the waters. See if I wanted to keep doing the long-term thing or date other people. It was a resounding “I don’t want to date anyone else” moment by the end of that night. I knew how good I had it. My husband was and is a keeper.

Fast forward almost 17 years. We’ve been married for 11.5 years. We’ve grown up and learned strengths, weaknesses, and held each other when it hurt. There’ve been fights and  frustration. Moments where a drive alone was necessary.

I was just guessing
At numbers and figures
Pulling the puzzles apart
Questions of science
Science and progress
Do not speak as loud as my heart
Tell me you love me
Come back and haunt me
Oh, and I rush to the start

And we keep coming back together to figure it all out.

Dating each other is important. Me giggling on the couch. The way he laughs when something funny catches him off-guard. Real time together. Snippets of time in the kitchen alone without the kids. Flirting. That arm slipping around me while I’m washing the dishes after dinner.

Asking those questions that neither of us really want to, but know we need to. Then working through the answer.

Raising our children together.

Running in circles
Chasing our tails
Coming back as we are

Nobody said it was easy
Oh, it’s such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be so hard

I’m going back to the start

I don’t want this to sound like we are struggling. We are deeply happy. But to stay that way, we have to keep going back to how we connected. To keep that passion and interest in each other- Ask what he’s reading. Give a little pat as I pass by. Keep dating each other.

Keep going back to the start.

13767127_10103109177295741_3714943659326746635_o

15317968_10103424000876761_3770233531888254975_n-2

Family · Perspective

Socks on the Floor Pt 2

Yet again today, my news feed is blowing up… Why? Another blogger responded, rather angrily, with a post titled:

Nope. Don’t you dare call my wife a “butthole”

Again with the passive-aggressive distractions. Again with the divisiveness of people who declare they love Jesus, then get sidetracked into defending their honor or the honor of someone they know/love in a war of words over petty stuff.

This is like the mommy wars. Do you breastfeed? Do you bottle feed? Do you pump? Do you use oils? Do you do use coconut oil instead of vegetable oils? Does your child eat only organic? Does your child eat Cheetos off the floor of the car? Did you make your treats for school from scratch and decorate them in the appropriate holiday decor? Did you forget and send a bag of powdered sugar donuts that you picked up that morning? Use daycare? Work from home? Eat frosting from the can? *GASP*  Eat raw cookie dough???

Oh. My. Word.

Is this really what we are discussing? Why yes. I am. It is not to defend either side. Everybody get your panties or boxers or briefs or whatever covers you up out of a bind and look at the bigger picture.

Do you honor your spouse with your words? Do you honor your spouse with your actions? Do you try to honor God with the way you are interacting with those around you – including family? Think long and hard about those questions. It’s the knee-jerk reactions that are causing this to build up into a dividing wall of pride.

I believe that each and every being on this earth has individual talents and strengths.  I haven’t read anything that says a woman is “less than or more than” for her choice of occupation: at home- in the workplace – or anywhere in between. Reflectively, I don’t read it that way for a man either.

You do you in a manner that honors yourself, your family, and God.

I also believe that while we all seek love and attachment, we accept it in different ways. Working to support a family in any capacity is a labor of love, be it in or out of the home. I’d rather have a husband who helps support the family than one who buys me gifts- any odd day of the week. He’d rather have a wife who wants to sit and talk with him than one who feels the need to have a spotless house- any odd day of the week.

That’s simply us. Other couples are different and that is great. They fill their bucket with love in other ways that suit their strengths and talents.

So let’s all calm down just a bit… maybe remove the word “butthole” from the conversation if it seems offensive and put this in perspective? My overall point goes back to what I said yesterday. These slight mundane things, these words other people are writing and we are reading, they don’t matter in the big picture. My life is different than your life which is different than the next person’s life.

What is important is how YOU are living these moments. 

Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right,whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things” (Philippians 4:8, NIV)

Faith · Family · Health · Love · Perspective

Socks on the Floor

I read a woman’s journal entry today on her site. It is titled “Stop Being a Butthole Wife.” It was blowing up on Facebook news feed. Most of my friends are young wives or husbands. Many have children. It fits for where we are in life.

It is obvious by the number of times it has been shared that it touched a nerve. So here’s my perspective on relationships and what I took from her writing:

  • I can’t even fathom what it means to lose a spouse. I don’t think devastated is a deep enough word for that level of hurt. My husband and I joke about who would be on our “list” if something ever happened to one of us. Honestly, it ends up being a humorous analysis and conversation. At the root of it all is the FACT that he would want me to be happy and move on if he was no longer alive. I reciprocate that sentiment.
  • All those little nitpicky things like socks on the floor, his belt and pocket contents on our kitchen counter, and his mug next to his chair where he ate graham crackers and milk before bed – TINY inconsequential occurrences. These really don’t matter in the panoramic view of our life together. That I know they exist feels comfortable to me. This is his house too. He rarely comments about my bra hanging on the bathroom doorknob and when he does, it’s because company is coming… We try to extend grace to one another.
  • There is so much beauty in a committed relationship. We submit to each other daily thousands of times a day. Why do you always have to be right? You don’t. A huge weight is removed once you confidently are able to recognize that. Do we agree all the time? No, we aren’t playing make-believe house. Disagreeing is healthy. It means we both have a voice. It allows us to maintain ourselves as individuals.
  • I ordered flowers for two different funerals today. My nephew had brain cancer at 18 months and is now a healthy 9 year old. My dad had cancer twice – stage 4 the 2nd time. He is 5 years with no detectable cancer now. We lost my mother-in-law at age 54 two years ago in March to a sudden brain bleed. The innocent get sick. We are helpless to fix it. Those we love pass away.

People – socks on the floor don’t matter.

Maybe I’m writing this because I learned a number of years ago that perfection isn’t possible. I was a perfectionist until I united my life with my husband’s 11 years ago. I was a butthole wife at that point. Young. Naive. Ridiculous. Trying to make my life pinterest-perfect. We’ve had this conversation. I’m still a work in progress, but I know we are in this together for the long haul.

I’ll keep picking up those socks and he’ll keep reminding me about my bra on the doorknob before our company walks in the door. It’s a partnership of love and grace. And it’s totally worth it.