The 30 Day Challenge…
Nah, it’s not a diet (like I’d go public about if it was!
Sure, let me just post that, and then you can all watch me FAIL
MISERABLY!!). It’s a kinda-cheesy
little blog challenge that a friend of mine posted. I’ve discovered that I have
all of these ideas in my head, and I keep forgetting to just sit down and write
it out. My hope is that a little challenge like this will help me get my head
back in the game. After all—isn’t writing what I REALLY want to do? (Yeah…it is….along
with speaking/singing/teaching/painting…and I wanna be an astronaut and a
farmer and a President and a…….Oh, wait, you mean I AM a grown-up?!?!? Bummer).
So, this little challenge will hopefully get me in the right
mindset of the bigger blog challenges that come with promoting increased
readership. That’s what I’d love to see happen—more readers, and maybe a
mini-career out of this writing stuff that I’ve loved for so long. It’s a small
start, but here we go….here’s to sticking to it!
Day 1: Your current relationship;
if single, discuss how single life is
Seriously? That’s the first question?!? Sigh. Not very
original…but I did say it was cheesy!
I’m married. I’m married to a man whose name means “Beloved,”
and it’s engraved on his wedding band. He is my beloved, and I am his, and we
are a combination of happy circumstances that were ordained by God. I’m married
to a man who chases God, who constantly reads, researches, studies, and seeks
to understand the very heart of the Lord. I’m married to a man who has pushed
me to my ultimate limits, who has broken my heart into a thousand pieces, who
has held me together and kept me off of ledges, and who has the strongest
shoulders I have ever seen…I am married to a man who likes me a little bit
crazy, but who can handle me when I’m off of the deep end. I am married to a
man who has an insane love of furniture and home décor…who has a palette that
rivals Gordon Ramsay, and who missed his calling to be an Executive Chef of
Southern Home Cooking.
I am married to a man who has shown me what I already knew:
He is an incredible father. There’s nothing more attractive than a man who a.)
loves God and b.) loves his child. David and his mini-me are my favorite guys
on this planet . The Journey to JD (our son) was a long, arduous, insane path,
and David stayed on it with me. I don’t understand his thought processes any
more than he understands mine, but I do know this: He has stayed. He has stayed, and he will stay
(God-willing), and he will raise our son to be a faithful, kind, loving man,
just like he is.
I am married to a man who is far from perfect. I find socks
in the recliner, T-shirts on the floor, and toothpaste in the sink; he is known
for volcano-like eruptions at stoplights.
He forgets to tell me I’m pretty, he expects praise for the mundane
(yes, honey, you’re great—you did the dishes. Which I have done, in anonymity,
for days. Would you like a parade? You would? Okay..but you’re cleaning up the
confetti.), and he drinks the last of the coffee creamer without telling me. He
also steals Nutella, which is a cardinal sin.
I am a wife who flies off of the handle. I am emotional,
possibly slightly bipolar, and I have struggled with depression for years. I
can be a complete know-it-all; I am messy, boorish, obstinate, and disobedient.
I fight with what it truly means to be submissive. I am high-maintenance, and
my health issues have caused us no end of financial and marital stress. I can
be very unstable, predictable in my unpredictability, and I constantly struggle
with filtering what comes out of my mouth. I struggle with my faith, with
reading the Bible over reading a good book, and I do not use my talents for the
things that I’m sure God would like for me to use them on.
I am a mother, and I’ve been one for 7 years. I am a mother,
and I’ve been one for 6 months. I am confused as to various parts of my
identity as a woman, as a Christian, as a church member. I feel useless but
overused; ignored, but too loud. I am fiercely protective, and if you harm my
child or flirt with my husband, I will end you. That’s a promise.
I can be a cutthroat B if you cross me, and I find myself
constantly fighting against that tendency. I lose more than I’d like, at least,
mentally. I’m incredibly thankful for grace. I am faithful…I am expressive…I am
an individual who is not often understood, but David gets me (most of the
time). If he were writing this blog, I’m not sure how he’d describe me
(Spender? Undisciplined? Spoiled? Drama Queen? Micromanaging psycho?), but I
hope he’d remember that I’m still that blonde in high heels that agreed to go
on that second date…
Without my husband, I am still me…but I am not a happy me. I
am not a fulfilled me. I miss my other half, when he’s not around; I feel
exposed and vulnerable. As time goes on, I feel more and more naked when he’s
not around, and I don’t like it. He’s become my covering, which is as it should
be. We may forget to say certain niceties to each other, but at the end of the
day, I think we both find the bed feels warmer with both of us in it. Our
little family felt complete before, during, after, before, and during children,
and dog, and everything else…but as time goes by, it feels more complete than
ever.
When we got married, we looked at the broken homes that we
came from, and we made a promise to each other: We would not go down that path.
The “D” word is not spoken in our house. We recently had a major disagreement
that was loaded with hurt and pain—we’ve been through a lot lately. The question
of single parenthood came up, and was immediately shot down—the thought is
worse than a horror film. We do not stop. We do not back down. We stay
together, through hell, high water, hurt, and happiness. We are welded together
in steel, and we ain’t goin’ nowhere, ya’ here? We made a vow before God, and
we meant it.
I mean it, every single day.
I love that man. I’d lay down my life for that man. He makes me crazy (and that's MUTUAL!), but he makes me happy. Where he
goes, I go; where he stays, I stay. His God is my God, and his people are my
people, and that’s all there is to it.
We are a combination of our best and of our worst, and of
our everything in-between. I can’t say enough about how much I love being
married, or about how many times I’ve wondered if we both have lost our minds. I
can’t describe to you, the peace I feel when he takes my hand (even if it’s
just to keep me from wandering into traffic). I’ve blogged about marriage
before, and maybe in my head, I have a crazy, romantic notion of it that might
be different from how it is when I walk in the door after a long day…But if
that’s true, then it’s a delusion I’ve held for almost 9 years, and I’ll keep
it.
I married a lover of God.
I married a lover of me.
Through fire and fury, we’re bonded together in grace,
laughter, pain, and hope…
And we belong to Jesus first,
Each other second,
To our children, third….
And to the dog, of course….
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