FIFTEEEN

: the number of years of marriage we celebrate today

Fifteen years ago, I was excited, not nervous.

Fifteen years ago, my husband drove to Mississippi on his way to the wedding (this was a fairly significant detour).

For fifteen years, we've read together - recommending the best books to each other - and accepting over time that while we both love to read, we love different books.

For fifteen years, J's been the one I call with good news, bad news, scary news.  He's listened, advised and laughed.

For fifteen years, we've negotiated household duties.  We're not neat freaks and both dislike cleaning.  A match made in heaven?  Not quite.  Someone does have to do it.  Housework has been the source of the biggest fights we've had.  I figure we're not too bad off if housework is our biggest issue.

For fifteen years, we've slept side by side, switching sides with the seasons.  I want to be near the air conditioner.  He doesn't like the fan blowing on his face.  I don't want to sleep near the bedroom door.  Ahhh, the millions of minor negotiations and compromises that go into a good marriage.

For fifteen years, I've studied this man's face, its nooks and crannies, its curves and stubble.  His face has changed over time, but not much.  He'll always be a baby face and I'll always be glad to see that face as he comes through the door to our home.

In fifteen years, we've watched hundreds of football games, two world cups, dozens of baseball games (can you tell which sport I prefer?) and more ballet performances than either of us could have imagined.


Over fifteen years, we've changed.  We've changed homes, jobs, diapers.  We've grown up together and stayed remarkably in-sync over a decade and a half.

Truth be told, we've had our ups and downs over the last fifteen years.  But a flat line of a marriage sounds like a death toll.  I'm thankful to be in a marriage where the peaks more than make up for the valleys.

I wouldn't trade a day of the last fifteen years.

PILGRIMAGE

1: a journey of a pilgrim; especially : one to a shrine or a sacred place
2: the course of life on earth

In Celtic Daily Prayer, the July Aidan readings are on the subject of pilgrimage.  Here's how the concept is introduced:

This month's notes are on the subject of pilgrimage, a journeying to a particular place, in the expectation that such a journey will have deep significance.  It may be to a place with personal memories, or to a holy place where for generations people have prayed and sought God.  Everyone's starting point and journey is different, inside - and outwardly...

All kinds of people go on pilgrimage of one sort or another, not all of them believers; it is a chance for things to move, to change, perhaps even for God to break into their lives.

I first read these words six days ago and have been pondering them ever since.  Where am I going?  Am I giving things a chance to move and change?  Am I willing to let God break into my neatly ordered life?  Or am I saying, "No, thanks, God.  That's quite enough change over here.  I'll just coast for a while if you don't mind too much."  You see, change was my word for 2010.  I had kind of hoped that 2011 would see less change, more stability, more growth, less fear.  Halfway through the year, I'm wondering whether growth and unfurling can occur with stability and without fear.  Would I prefer stability and stasis to freedom and unfurling?  Some days I might.

Four months ago, J interviewed for a new job at work.  It was a position outside of his department, outside of his direct experience, outside of his comfort zone.  As the days, weeks and months went on, he and I began to doubt he'd get the job.  I'd had some ambivalence all along.  In large part, my ambivalence boiled down to the same question J asked me when we considered homeschooling, "Can you do this job and be nice to the rest of us?"  For me, this was linked to my need for a certain amount of physical and mental solitude.  For J, the question is whether the emotional drain of managing a bigger team will leave him with the time, attention and emotional capacity to parent three daughters.  (Have you tried parenting a pre-teen daughter?  It has to be one of the most emotionally taxing jobs on the planet.  Yet surpassed by parenting a teenage daughter, I fear.)

You might be able to imagine our surprise - and my slight dismay - to find that J had gotten the job.  This is a big deal for him.  It's great affirmation of all he's done in his current and previous positions and it's definitely the beginning of a pilgrimage of sorts for him.  I fully believe he's ready for the challenges and we're doing all we can from the outset to establish expectations for the girls about the time commitment this will require.  There will be fewer Saturday morning trips to Sweet 16th, Bagel Face and The Hermitage Diner.  But that's just part of the journey.

As with any marriage, J's pilgrimage directly impacts my own.  My reaction to the news of his promotion was shock and a bit of fear.  What will this mean for us?  What will it mean for me?  Can I handle more of the parenting when he's the one who's a better listener?  Can I do it?  Will this change us?  I like who we are right now - both separately and together.

As the news has settled, I've been able to see the silver lining in what seems to be a foreboding cloud.  I've also prayed - a lot.  And one result of these prayers has been a very clear sense that J is ready for this - and perhaps I am, too.  On the face of it, my husband's job change impacts me far less than him.  But my feelings are valid, if only because I feel them.  I will have to navigate some parenting waters alone.  I will have to make on the spot decisions alone.  I may be more tired, stretched a bit more thin - which will require that I take better care of myself so that I am ready for the tasks ahead.  I don't mean to imply that I will have to do it all alone, but I will be stretched.  Unfurled, perhaps.

I'm not going on an actual physical pilgrimage this summer.  But I am journeying to a place I've never been - a place with a more physically absent parenting partner, where I homeschool two children and learn to support J in his new role.  May I do it in a way that allows God to break into my life and break down the walls I've erected for myself.

BROKEN

1: violently separated into parts :shattered

A wedding gift that we've held on to for nearly fourteen years was broken yesterday, just weeks before it was to be installed in our new kitchen. It was a gift from my former ceramic instructor, a tile of a landscape with blues that would have matched those to be used in our kitchen. It was, of course, broken by accident.

I was sitting outside on the front porch, nursing an aching head, when I heard A calling me. I stepped inside and she told me that J was upstairs calling for me - and that he was crying. As I headed up the stairs in alarm, A went on to explain that her dad was crying because he'd broken something. This was a relief because I was worried he was hurt. I'd rather an object (even this one) be broken than need to rush my husband to the hospital for an injury. And as I rushed up the stairs, I knew in my heart of hearts what must be broken for him to be this upset about it.

I arrived upstairs to find the tile in three pieces, J crying on the floor beside it. I didn't immediately start crying. This was partially because I was in shock, but also because I was telling myself, "It's just a thing," over and over in my mind. I immediately went into survivor mode and started sectioning off the pain and disappointment of losing this little piece of a dream of a new kitchen. And I focused on comforting J, who clearly felt terrible about what had happened. We talked for a bit and he finally left the room, still devastated about the accident. And his brokenness over a broken ceramic tile that was special to both of us worked a minor miracle in my heart because it let me actually feel some sadness.

With difficult emotions, I'm pretty quick to shove them aside and move past them without actually moving through them. It's easier to numb myself than to feel a bit of sadness, even over an accident. So I sat on the floor and cried. And as I cried, I reminded myself that it was far better to be crying over a broken tile than a broken marriage. Because, in a way, I saw this tile as a part of our marriage. That was why I had wanted it installed in our new kitchen - in the home we've made together for our family. And while it was sad, it was also a blessing to have a husband with a tender heart. A husband who knows my own heart and is devastated when he breaks something dear to me. A husband who is able to stand there broken about his mistake and love me in his brokenness.

I'll take that any day over the perfect kitchen with a tiled back splash unique to our home. I'll take a husband who knows and loves me over one who takes my approach to pain - to shove it aside and partition it off in an effort to survive life's storms, both big and small. I've learned a lot from J over the years and while I'm sad this particular lesson came at the cost of this tile, I'm very, very grateful to still be learning from him.

SATISFYING

3 a : to make happy : please b : to gratify to the full : appease

My husband doesn't get a lot of vacation time - two weeks goes pretty fast with family stretched from Alabama to Wisconsin. So it was a special treat for him to take a vacation day on Friday. The girls had school and we were having a party on Saturday, so he picked this as a vacation day in part to help me with party prep and in part to give us some time alone. It's difficult to put into words how satisfying this day was to my soul, but as WordGirl, I'll give it a try...

Working Together - I won't lie, it was nice to have help cleaning the house, meeting with a contractor about a new fence and running errands. I often feel closest to J when we're working on a project together and Friday was especially nice because we accomplished a lot without assembling or moving any furniture, thereby avoiding frustration on my part and swearing on his.

Day Time Date - In the midst of errands, we had lunch together and lingered. We weren't paying a sitter, didn't have an appointment pressing up against our time together and there were no work projects hanging over our outing. I can't remember what we talked about, but it wasn't our children or the mundane activities of life. Actual adult conversation can be shockingly hard to come by, especially in the busy month of December.

A Glimpse of Our Future - I told J as we headed out for errands and lunch that it was so much fun to have a day together because it made me excited for the day (still 12+ years away) when K starts college and I have him all to myself again. I've heard lots of couples struggle with empty nesting but as much as I love my daughters, I look forward to it being just J and I again someday. The girls can visit as often as they'd like...

Who I Am With Him - J makes me feel good about myself. He laughs at my jokes, tells me I look good and enjoys my company as much as I enjoy his. I feel like a better, bolder Shannon after a bit of time alone with him and that was a nice bonus heading into a party where our house was filled with friends from all of the various facets of our life.

Thankfully, starting in 2010 J will have an extra week of vacation. I can't wait for another Date Day in the spring. I'm sure it will leave me as filled to overflowing as Friday did.