Piecing It Together

Missing-Puzzle-Pieces-600x398

 

Recently I wrote a Blog countdown to change describing our wedding, honeymoon, and what the first couple weeks of marriage was like.

 
#7 wasn’t in flashing lights or bold letters. It wasn’t underlined to catch attention. But for some reason, everyone knew.  Somehow, it stood out. People commented, encouraged, and commiserated, somehow knowing that the heartbeat of the countdown was #7.

 
And rightfully so.

 
Because if we’re being honest, I wanted to write ONLY about #7. I wanted to talk extensively about the tears and the trials. What learning to swim together really feels like, and how some days I feel like my head is just above water.

 

But part of me was scared. Scared of what people would think about me, about Adam, about the reality and hardships of starting to take our heads out of the clouds and back down to a somewhat harsh reality. And how it’s only been a month so it’s crazy to feel that way, right? I didn’t want to hear I was crazy. I assumed people would say that we should still be throwing rose petals at each other and eating cake and talking about houses and babies and vacations.

 

 

So I abbreviated my thoughts and tucked away #7 with commentary before and after. A little because I did want people to know some of our celebratory details. Each day has felt like a month and my heart is truly brimming with joy and gratitude from our celebrations; I did not want that to go unsaid or overlooked.

 

But I also wanted padding. I wanted #7 to hide between #6 and #8 and not sound so…..real.

 

 

 

 

When returning from our honeymoon, people I don’t even know came at me with big smiles and enthusiasm….”HOW’S MARRIED LIFE???? :):):):)”  Woah. Whatever you’re taking, I’d like some. Because I couldn’t muster that much enthusiasm….even though I wanted to.

 

I’ve cried. A lot.

 

We’ve argued. A lot.

 

Turns out we’re both never wrong.

 

And we like our living spaces “just so”.

 

And we have different morning routines. (I’ve actually contemplated how long it would take me to smother him with a pillow if he hit snooze one more time. I mean, not to KILL him, just long enough so he’d pass out….).

 

We both want hugs and kisses and closeness and intimacy….at opposite times. Or not at all. Or constantly.

 

And we just keep missing each other.

 

I like being with people 23.5 hours of the day. He likes being with people .5 hours of the day. The math SEEMS like it would make a rounded 24 hours…if we weren’t totally opposite.

 

 

And it’s not like we had an arranged marriage and didn’t know any of this before. It just amplified, intensified and some things sprang new branches once we got married. Like a puzzle that’s missing half the pieces…I just couldn’t figure out exactly what was so hard, what needed to change, and why life felt so different.

 

As luck would have it, I wasn’t perfect at something I had never done before.

 

 

The newness of change and expectations was a mountain I wasn’t prepared to climb. And I found myself teetering between choosing vulnerability and the “everything is perfect here” facade.

 

 

By Gods grace, we choose vulnerability.

 

 
And I say we because that’s so important. We are in alllllll of this together. The good, the bad, the sleepless, the tears, the fights at hobby lobby and the deciding between skim milk or 2% (I’ll save you the headache…compromise with 1%).

 
The point being is that it takes two for conflict and two for reconciliation. Two to chose silence or two to chose vulnerability. Our choices on how to live out our marriage…in community or behind closed doors…is a choice we make together.

 

Because it’s not just my story to tell anymore.

 

And really, it’s okay that we don’t have it all figured out. Or at least that’s what I keep reminding myself.

 

 

 

 
So tonight we are talking to friends. Friends that have been there, done that, and can maybe give us some words of wisdom. That can maybe show us a piece of the puzzle we just haven’t been able to see ourselves. Another step of swallowing our pride. Another motion of throwing up the white flag of imperfection, and letting our close friends enter into our closets and under our beds and search for the things that are unseen or tucked away.

 

Because we truly believe that we weren’t meant to go at it alone.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s