The next thing I knew, I had been married for SIX MONTHS WHAT and winter was beginning to melt into Spring slush. Rumor has it that it may hit 65 degrees this Wednesday, I missed picking up my hold from the library, and I’ve cleaned the kitchen four times in the past 24 hours. I’m reading through the Gospels in 30 days (ok more like 75 days at this point RIP), thought I had COVID but ended up sorely disappointed, and have discovered a latent obsession for extreme sour patch kids. I think I’m done with our taxes, hosted brunch this morning, and am savoring sunshine. My Spotify playlist is still a weird mix of stuff that’s mostly circa 2013. I have ups and downs emotionally about the world, my health, and if I’m doing enough for the Lord (spoiler, that’s a bad trap to get into and is a solidly-rated lie from the Enemy to get wound up in. Spoiler to the spoiler, I’m okay and back on the right path).
And marriage to my best friend, to the most wonderful partner in life and soul, is better than ever. We celebrated our six month anniversary with pizza and ice cream and candy because we’re actually eight year-olds minus the Chuck E Cheese. He is, this is, a most treasured gift from the most perfect of Givers.
As I blast “Let Her Dance” by the Bobby Fuller Four and reflect on the past six months of marriage, I keep thinking about how sweet this all has been. Not sweet as in saccharine, but as in good and precious and joyful. People often talk about how hard the first year of marriage typically is. But upon further reflection, it’s not marriage itself that’s hard; it’s me.
My sin and my flesh are what are hard. Fighting my lazy spirit, choosing to serve my husband or defer to him, working out disagreements with grace and humility, speaking the truth in love – that stuff is supremely difficult because I’m a selfish, opinionated, judgmental sinner. I don’t like it when my husband doesn’t think the way I do and doesn’t go along with what I want or that he doesn’t do everything for me. Because at my core, I don’t want to sacrifice anything of myself. It’s only Jesus who helps me, who has transformed my heart to want to ever do anything good towards my soul friend (my favorite word for “spouse” one of my college professors used to use). There is no joy in this marriage without the Holy Spirit enabling us to sacrifice for one another.
Sin is what is hard – fighting it day in and day out, obeying God instead of my own desires, and submitting to His Word on how to love my husband and show Him in our marriage. My husband faces the same challenge every day. And so we pray and encourage each other.
H I G H L I G H T S a n d S N A P S H O T S
-We are mushy and more in love than ever to the point of being gross. We address each other by chirping “Wife!” and “Husband!” in delighted tones from all over the house.
-We always greet the other person at the front door when they come home from work with hugs, kisses, and a “Welcome home! You’re home now!”
-COVID has made us watch a lot of TV. Fairly positive Corbin is not that bothered by this. He has been introducing me to a host of sitcoms and dramas and cartoons. “Psych” and “White Collar” are mad winners. I see pineapples everywhere I go now.
-We are reading through the Bible (1-2 chapters a day with each other at night) and going through the excellent Happily Ever After: Finding Grace in the Messes of Marriage devotional.
-I’m taking the Perspectives missions course and thinking deeply about how to be an ambassador of God’s kingdom in this world. We are both praying more deeply and fervently for the lost, opening our home to friends, hosting a Sunday church group for livestreaming, and talk about theology a lot.
-Our last big heated discussion was most likely about a video politics, cynicism vs. realism, or the COVID vaccine. Currently trending are baby alligator noises/videos, Breyer’s mint chocolate chip, black bean quinoa tacos, Seinfeld, and me saying that I’m finally going to work on our honeymoon scrapbook.
Here’s to another six months and many, many, MANY more.
