May the Lord Deal With Me — Wedded Wednesday

But Ruth replied, “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the LORD deal with me, be it ever so severely, if anything but death separates you and me.” Ruth 1:16-17

I printed this verse on the inside of our wedding programs, and in the months before the wedding and before my move, it’s one I turned over in my heart often. Let your people be my people. Where you go, I go. Should the LORD deal with me severely if anything should separate us.

And I guess now —  in retrospect — the Lord has been dealing with me over the past year and a half. Not because we were physically separated, because obviously we are not, but because I was putting a distance in my heart; I was building a wall made up of blame and self-righteousness. The back half of 2008 was incredibly difficult for me and therefore for us; much of it regular newly married stuff (figuring out housekeeping, how to discuss money etc.), but most of it has been my own doing.

I wish that I could say that I was like Ruth. That I followed with an obedient, joyful heart. But I didn’t. There were many times in those early months where I wanted to punish him. Sometimes I did it consciously, other times I wasn’t aware that my behavior or words were hurtful. I was hurting too much to notice, I suppose.

I just felt like I had given up so much, and he got all the spoils: we lived in his hometown (in his childhood home even!), we spent time with his friends and went to his alma mater’s homecoming and here he was, back in the place he grew up surrounded by family and friends and in a job he found fulfilling and rewarding, and I gave up “everything” so that this could be our life. I felt like I had nothing. (This is really embarrassing and shameful for me to admit now, because really? I had nothing? Drama.)

I spent so much time grieving my old life that I didn’t stop to see (and to praise God for) what I had been given. In Genesis, before God created Eve, he said that it wasn’t good for man to be alone, so He made for him a helper. And here was this man, for whom I had been created, and who had been created for me, and I was mourning a job? A house?

(Of course I was also mourning for my friendships and my church — two things I still miss deeply on a daily basis, but finding a church here and slowly [painfully slowly] making Minnesota friends has softened that ache. And also, Facebook helps. It is also no coincidence that things started to turn around once we decided on a home church and began attending regularly.)

I’m still finding my way here, but day by day it gets easier, and connecting into a community was key step one. Starting my photography business was another huge step for me; not only was this something totally new for me, something I only would’ve had the courage to do with my husband standing behind me supporting me and encouraging me, but it has brought new and wonderful people into my life.

That single Georgia girl wasn’t a photographer; but this married Minnesota lady IS. And for that, I give the credit to God first and my husband second.

I’m a difficult person, so it shouldn’t have been too big of a surprise that we would suffer growing pains. I once heard Beth Moore say that there is a difference between a bad marriage and a hard marriage. That hers was often a hard marriage, but it was never bad. I cling to that, because I believe with all my heart that while our marriage is often woefully hard, it has never been (nor I pray will it ever be) bad.

Admittedly, in the trenches, it can be difficult to tell the difference. In the trenches when you’re both holding your ground over something ridiculous, like say a crock pot that’s been sitting on the counter for four days, it just feels BAD.

We each brought 30+ years of entrenched habits into the mix. When you factor in that we are both children of divorce, and never saw a model of a Godly marriage, it often feels like we’re blindly trying to put together a 5,000+ piece puzzle without a picture guide. And sometimes that frustration escalates and before we know it, there we are, back in the trenches where it all just feels BAD.

But the more I open myself up to God changing me, the sweeter our marriage is. (The sweeter I am.) The easier it is. I only wish that I spent more time in prayer rather than prepping for battle; rather than looking for ways I may have been wronged so that I can be in the right.

Another Beth Moore-ism is that when you stand in pride, the sweeping arm of humility is coming for you. You can either get on your knees and humble yourself before God, or you can wait for that big arm to swing down and knock you there. Either way you end up in the same place.

So when I get puffed up with pride (or when my husband does), I try to remember that God pours out His grace on the humble, but that he opposes the proud (James 4:6). That’s a slap in the face — that when you’re standing on pride, not only are you making things difficult for your spouse, but God Himself is actually in opposition with you in those moments. He’s not on your side in that argument — so what good is it to go down swinging just to be “right,” when you’re totally alone in your fight?

When you’re single, you often hear that marriages take work, but you’re not exactly sure what that means. And what I’m starting to learn is that the work that needs to be done, is almost always the kind you can only do on yourself. I am not going to change a 38-year-old man, and he is not going to change me. But God CAN.

So He has been dealing with me. And I am so grateful.

If I let Him, He will change me. He will shape me and lead me and teach me; and he can do the same for Aaron.

And He can do the same for you.

Weekend Update

Aaron and I had a pretty low-key weekend, and it was awesome. I found myself with no sessions, as one newborn client went early and another went late, so we spent our Saturday close to home. Aaron made ebelskiver, which is a Danish breakfast treat; sort of like a stuffed pancake. We got sucked in by a display at Williams-Sonoma, and bought a pan whose only use to make said ebelskivers, but I have to say, so far, purchase well made.

We decluttered our three-season porch, which instantly made me feel 10 pounds lighter. (If only it had helped me to actually lose 10 pounds. Alas.) We took the dogs on a walk and loaded up the car with stuff to donate. (Some of which had been sitting the garage since last fall.)

Before church, we attempted family photos for our holiday cards, but trying to get all four dogs to sit near each other and face the same way and look at a camera was too big a task for the window we had available. So we gave up on that right quick. We took a few of just us too, but even those have a random tail or Julie’s head in them. I’m tempted to use one of them anyway, because that is truly how life is around here.

After service we went out for pizza and a movie; an actual date. It’s important to keep dating your spouse, and I’m glad we make time for it. Especially now, pre-kids. Hopefully it’ll be habit by the time any children decide to show up around here.

A Sunday in the fall means football, so we put on our Vikings gear and went over to Tina & Roger’s for the 12 p.m. kick off. Alas, it wasn’t so much that the Steelers were better so much as the Vikings kept making stupid penaltys. But keeping up with the Superbowl champs on their turf is a different kind of W, and we’ll take it.

I’m playing Fantasy Football this year with some friends (in a non-money, just-for-fun league), so I am following many more teams than usual, so the rest of today meant even more football.

It was a cold, dreary weekend (what happened to the beautiful fall of last year?), so we have a fire going in the stove and three of the four canines are with us on the couch.

It’s quiet (save for the sweet sound of bulldogs snorning), and we’re happy.

Are You Ready to Stand in the Gap?

Catalyst 2009 Compassion Moment from Catalyst on Vimeo.

In Its Best Times — Wedded Wednesday

I had a thought last night as my husband and I laid in bed laughing over the snoring of our bulldog, Eller. Sometimes being married is like having a never-ending slumber party with your best friend.

In its best times, it is exactly that.

Tonight we ate homemade chicken fingers and potato chips and settled in on the couch for our favorite mid-week show, Glee.

After the show a few weeks ago, I immediately downloaded the single “Alone,” (done as a duet with Kristin Chenowith and Mr. Shu), and that night before we went to sleep, I played it on the iPhone and sang along at top volume. My poor husband; he’s a good sport and sang along. (See? I bet there are 13 year old girls who sing Glee songs at their slumber parties.)

I’m sure when he was saying his vows almost 18 months ago, he didn’t think sing-along-and-try-to-harmonize-to-TV-tunes-at-11-pm was part of the package. But I wasn’t so sure that closing cabinet doors and drawers until the end of time amen were part of mine. (Ahem.)

Notes from Minnesota III

It snowed today. Big, fat, wet snowflake snow. Warm snow. (Yes, there is such a thing.) I’m still in a little bit of denial that I live somewhere it can snow in October, and that I could actually think it was a little bit warm. (Right?) With this weekend’s snowfall, it means that in 2009 there were only five months that saw no snowfall: May-September. And this native Texan doesn’t really mind so much. I don’t know what’s weirder.

I was off today, which was so needed, as I shot three sessions this weekend. I don’t know why I felt guilty about being lazy, since I worked over my weekend, but it felt indulgent to be vegging out on a Monday. Thankfully the snow and cold temps made me feel less guilty about spending the day in pajama bottoms.

My husband worked late; finally getting home a little past 8. Right now most of us (everyone but Scout) are cuddled on the couch watching Monday Night Football. There’s really not room for that many of us up here, but Eller doesn’t care. He is laying on top of Julie, and looking extremely put out while he’s at it. (Julie tolerates it; he’s her baby!) Aaron said, “It’s just dog wherever you look.” To which I could only respond, “Word.”

Y’all, four is a lot of dog.

As if today’s snow wasn’t enough of a sign, fall is already on the way out. Football season is in full swing. We’ve put the picnic table away and covered up the grill. The air conditioning units are out of the windows. The only thing left to do is to switch out our down blanket for the down comforter.

I’d say I’m dreading it, but I didn’t mind winter so much last year. Winter means fires and hot chocolate and fuzzy slippers. It means tromping through the snow to the frozen lake and watching Scout bound around with snow on her snout. Winter means decorating for Christmas and a new year.

So I’m ready tundra. Bring it on.

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