I feel like I’ve fallen off the face of the earth – the past
10 weeks have been such a whirlwind. We got married, went on our honeymoon,
came back and started settling into our tiny new home. I went back to work, Ray
started at a new Home Depot store, we spent our days off huddled up at home,
soaking up the time we had together like thirsty sponges. We went from long
distance and independent lives to being married and cohabitating overnight…and
the transition has been both beautiful and challenging. We coexisted in a honeymoon bubble – our “cocoon”
for as long as possible, and then we left the bubble and travelled back to
South Carolina.
It’s a weird thing. When the home you grew up in, the place
you’ve always called “home” even though you haven’t lived there in years – no longer
feels the same. It’s weird, when you start a new family and your new family
meets your original family – and everything is new. It’s different – not necessarily bad, maybe momentarily
disjointed – but marriage changes things. Marriage has changed me.
I no longer get to do whatever I want all the time. I can’t go to South Carolina whenever I want
just because I feel like it – I can’t sleep in the middle of the bed anymore –
and I can’t buy whatever I want just because I want it. I could, but it wouldn’t
benefit my husband or my marriage, therefore, it wouldn’t benefit me. Now we get to navigate the waters or
coordinating schedules, budgeting, and kicking each other when we snore. Now we watch Blacklist and Die Hard instead
of Scandal or Pride and Prejudice. Now
we tag team chores and learn how to build relationships with in-laws, we do
each other’s laundry (for better or worse) and share a bathroom. And with each
passing day of being married, I find myself grappling with a couple of truths:
1.
My insecurity undermines the foundation of our
marriage and my relationship with Jesus.
2.
Marriage is NOT 50/50
3.
My husband is not a woman
Before we got married I knew that my insecurity and low
sense of self-worth negatively affected my relationships with others, I just
didn’t know to what extent. The truth
is, I can’t love my husband well when I’m wallowing in insecurity, believing
the lies of culture and Satan, because I am too busy being self-absorbed. Not
only can I not love him well, but I can’t receive his love either. I spend so
much time believing lies (like I’m not enough) that when he speaks truth to me,
“Alex, I love you. I find you beautiful.” I instantly discount it – “Well you
married me, you’re supposed to say things like that.” It hurts his heart on a level that I’m not
sure I fully realize – but it has made me realize how much God’s heart is for
me, how His heart is hurt when I discount what He says about me, when I choose
to believe the world instead. My husband chose me, loves me, is for me – and he’s
just a human example of God – who chose me, loves me, and is for me. When I
stay in a funk of insecurity, fissures and cracks start to form in my
relationship with Ray and with Jesus – I communicate distrust and unbelief to
both of them, I distance myself from them, I’m selfish towards them, and the
intimacy in both relationships suffers. I’ve never been more acutely aware of
the danger and the bondage of insecurity than I am now. And so the baby steps of walking in freedom
start now in the grace of Christ.
Marriage is not 50/50. I’m not sure how many times we were
told this before we got married, and it wasn’t that I didn’t believe those
folks – I just hadn’t experienced it firsthand. Ray does so much around the
house – I’m honestly blessed and probably spoiled. However, the last few weeks
have been crazy for both of us, especially tough being on opposite schedules
the last two weeks. The sink has constantly been full of dishes, the bathroom
sink broke, the dryer broke, the sink broke again, the house was a wreck, the
living room cluttered, and the French press (our beloved source of caffeine)
always full of old coffee grounds. I walked into the kitchen one night before
work and one glance at the full kitchen sink had me instantly frustrated. The
last thing I wanted to do before work was wash dishes, and Ray had been off all
day – why was the kitchen such a mess? Marriage is not 50/50, Alex. The last thing
you want to do on your days off is to do dishes, too. He needed a day to rest.
Suddenly doing the dishes before work was a joy – because it meant that my
husband could take a break after working so hard all week. There are many
weeks, days, moments when Ray gives much more to our marriage, to me than I do,
and every now and then he lets me do the same for him.
My husband is not a woman.
Again, nothing I hadn’t heard before – but hearing and seeing are two
different experiences. He does not want to watch chick flicks; he could care
less about decorating for Christmas, and most of the time he doesn’t care what
we eat for dinner as long as it’s edible.
I stared at Christmas stockings for 20 minutes in Target the other day
trying to figure out which ones to get for our first Christmas…he probably
wouldn’t even get stockings. When it
comes to signing thank you cards or birthday cards, he probably would just sign
his name whereas I write a novel – in fact, I ordered Christmas cards that he
hasn’t even seen because he honestly has no preference. When I want to talk about how I’m feeling,
his general response is a “fix it” saying… when what I catch myself wanting is
what any one of my friends would say – “what’s up?” “Tell me more.” “how so.” Etc.
My husband just wants me to be ok. If I’m worried, he wants to say “We’ll be
fine.” “You got this.” but I need to verbally process, not feel cut off. If I’m
upset, he wants to tell me what I should do while I just want a hug and to
vent. I want him to respond like a woman –but he is not a woman. He’s a man,
and he loves me in a masculine way. It’d be weird if he didn’t. This is not to
say that Ray doesn’t serve me, or love me in a way that I receive it – he would
take me to see a chick flick for my sake, but not as his first choice. And
often times, he listens patiently to me before responding with his thoughts.
But if my expectation is that he responds like one of my girlfriends, we’re in
for a frustrating journey. He’s a dude. He will never be able to fill all of my
needs or wants, including my heart for genuine community with other women.
Likewise for him – he needs time with his friends – he needs football and beer
and all that is testosterone. Honestly, I’m so thankful that Ray loves me the
way that he does – I’m seeing more and more the beauty of the Gospel because
when we love as a couple, we love more completely – and the world gets a better
picture of who God is and how He loves.
