English

Dinner conversation tonight…

Claire:  Guys, listen!  I have some amazing news!

Me:  Oh yeah?  What is it?

Claire:  Daddy, are you listening too?

Chris: Yes, Claire.  What’s the news?

Claire:  Well, there is this new boy in my class.  But I don’t know his name yet.  I’m just learning it.

Chris:  Oh yeah?  Does he seem like a cool dude?

Claire:  Well…I didn’t really get to talk to him a lot.  (Troubled look on her face)

Me:  Did you not have enough time today?

Claire:  No, that’s not the problem.  (Sigh and long pause)  The problem is, he speaks English.  And I don’t know how to do that.

Content

I’ve never dieted for health — ever.  (I can see the benefit of that.  It’s important to be healthy — to eat well and exercise and stay at a reasonable weight.  I believe that we should take care of our bodies in an effort to stay healthy.  Please hear my heart – I am not writing this post as my own personal license to throw caution to the wind and gorge myself on chocolate cake every night.)  But for me, it’s always been about appearance.  And it’s always about other people.  If I wasn’t constantly comparing myself to others and continually being concerned with how I “should” look, this wouldn’t even be an issue.

The problem is, I will never look like the vision in my mind.  I’ll never look like that girl on the commercial or the super-skinny mom at Claire’s school, or the Shannon of 10 years ago.  I suppose I could maybe come close.  If I lived on a very strict diet and spent a couple hours at the gym each night, I might attain results somewhere in the vicinity of what I’d like to look like.

But here’s the deal.  Looking back at my 21 year old body, I think, Wow!  Look at me!  I looked amazing!  Flat stomach, long skinny legs, flabless arms.  But when I was in that 21 year old body, I thought, Gosh, my stomach is not nearly as flat as hers, and my thighs are looking a little lumpy these days, and I hate the way my arms jiggle when I clap.  Right now I’m unhappy with my current body, but I bet when I’m 50, I’ll look back longingly on my 30 year old self.  Such is the nature of a woman’s mind.  We are never satisfied, never content.  We never think we’re good enough.

I have to stop and ask myself — is this the way God intended for me to live?  Always criticizing, always unhappy with my body, never content?  I know it’s not.  When so much of my focus and energy is spent thinking about what’s on the outside, how much is left for thinking about what truly matters, what’s truly important?

I so desperately want Claire to be happy with her body.  To see the beauty she was created with — on the outside, and so much more importantly — on the inside.  Isn’t that also the heart of our Father?

When Claire puts on a fancy dress and asks me if she looks pretty, I say, “Baby girl, you are always pretty.”

And I imagine our Father would say to us:

Baby Girl,

I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.  I wish you could know and feel and understand the love I have for you, and the pride I hold in my heart when I look at you.  You are always beautiful.  Not because of the way you style your hair, or how your legs look in those shorts, or the clarity of your skin, but because you are my creation.  I made you, and I take pride in my work.

I know you’re tired — tired of always striving to be better — more beautiful, skinnier, more put-together.

So just stop.

Don’t believe the lies this world tries to feed you, tries to shove down your throat.  When you try to fit their mold, you’ll never look good enough.  But when you try to fit mine, you already do.

So give yourself a break.  Take a rest from all your striving.

And just be content.

Claire

The first night home from the hospital Claire stayed awake for eight hours.  Eight. Straight. Hours.  I didn’t know what we would do.  Up until then we had been running on adrenaline and pride, because, hey, we had just created the most beautiful creature to have ever graced the face of this planet.  And then – the night from hell.  At about 3:30 in the morning I called the nursery at the hospital to tell them that our baby was defective and could they offer some advice or maybe just keep her for the rest of the night.  They couldn’t.

And so it went.  You see, nobody tells you this before your baby is born, but there is no bedtime in the womb.  Yes, babies just party it up in there with no regards to what time it is or what they should be doing.  And then they are born and they think, Who are you, Mother, to tell me what to do?  I have been living my way in my cozy dark cavern and doing as I please.  I don’t intend to stop now.  And Chris and I thought, We are the parents.  We will win this battle.  And I printed up my schedule and carried my clipboard around and read Baby Wise 17 times, and yes, Claire learned to sleep.  At night and in her own bed.  Bless the Lord.

I remember at about 6 weeks into this adventure, looking around and saying to myself, This cannot go on any longer.  Life has to feel normal again.  And I moved the stacks of diapers from our dresser into a drawer.  And I found a cute little box for my nursing pads.  And I washed the sheets that had baby poop on them from a midnight diaper changing explosion.  And I felt like we would make it.

Life was changed forever, and life with Claire became normal.  And it was beautiful and hard and exhausting and rewarding and all I hoped it would be.

I love being a mom.  I love the milestones and the smiles and the memories.  Being a mom is the hardest job of all and the best.  The truth is, when you love someone with your whole heart, it’s a little bit scary and a little bit dangerous.  But it’s so worth it – to love that way – to hold nothing back and truly love.

It’s hard to believe it’s been four years that we’ve had our precious girl.  Sometimes I can’t believe how big she is.  You know how “old” people always say, “Don’t blink or you’ll miss it”?  Well now I am old, and I want to tell you that it is true.  It is so true.  Claire’s life is like a blur in my mind – it’s like thumbing through four years worth of photos and they all turn into a blurry picture of this little life.  Her life – her beautiful, divinely created life – made up of months, made up of weeks, made up of days, made up of moments.

Those individual moments – fragments of time.  Most of them so ordinary, so day-to-day – sleeping, brushing her teeth, running errands with her in the backseat.  And then there are those moments that seem to stop the earth’s spinning and silence the clock’s ticking.  Those moments that leave an imprint on your heart you know will be there for the rest of your life.

Those moments late at night in the rocking chair when she would gaze into my face with those big brown eyes, just watching me.

When she smiled for the first time – so perfectly – and I knew it wasn’t just gas.

The moment when she stopped eating her blueberries, looked right into my eyes, and said, “Mama”.  Her first word.

Afternoons when she would see me pull up in front of the babysitter’s house and stand at the door, smiling and waving, so happy for me to be there.

The moments snuggled up under the covers, reading together – laughing at Curious George’s silly escapades and wondering about Carl the dog’s amazing baby-sitting skills, and imagining taking a rest in The Napping House.

That special moment when she asked Jesus into her heart and to be her friend forever and ever.

When we sat in her room playing babies and I heard her speak so tenderly and sweetly to her dolls.

The moments when her face lit up with wonder and she got it –  she understood something  brand new for the first time.

When she asked me why I’m proud of her and I got to tell her.

Times spent at the park together – digging and sliding and swinging and laughing.

The moment when she prayed, “Jesus, thank you for letting those soldiers be mean to you and kill you.  And please help all the mean people in the whole wide earth to be nice.”

Watching her face beam with pride as she rode her big girl bike for the very first time.

That afternoon when she said, “I wish I could take Jesus out of my heart so I can give him a big hug.”

Times spent in the kitchen together – with her flipping pancakes, or mixing brownies, or stirring banana bread batter by my side.

When she said, “Mommy, I miss our baby.  It’s so hard to wait.”

That moment when she kissed my palm and told me to press it to my cheek when I missed her and even when I washed my hand with soap, and even when I couldn’t feel the kiss, the love would still be there.

These precious, beautiful moments, that make up this precious, beautiful life.  I am so thankful to share in these moments, and thrilled to imagine the moments that are to come.  Other sweet moments like these, and so many more – different and new.  I’ll blink again and she’ll be 8, and again, and my daughter is a teenager, and then, a woman.  And I’ll sit back and remember when she was just 4 and wonder where the time went.  But in my heart I’ll always hold onto the moments.

Worry

What do you worry about?  Really, take a step back and look at your life.  What are you worried about right now?  What were you worried about last week?  Can you peg down a few things?

Here’s my current list…

• My bottom teeth are getting crooked.
• Claire will be jealous of our new baby.
• Our baby won’t attach to us and will resent us for not being his “real” parents.
• People will be rude to our new child because he is adopted.
• There is dog hair on the carpet and laundry all over the couch and company is coming tonight.
• I won’t make a difference and will feel like my life didn’t matter.
• There are children all around the world who don’t have families.
• These new people in my life won’t like me.
• Claire will be mistreated by other students in her class.
• Claire will mistreat other students in her class.
• What will I make for dinner?
• How will we afford (insert: bills, holiday travel, paying for our adoption, etc.)?
• Sex slavery is alive and flourishing in our world.
• People in my family, workplace, community do not know the Lord.
• My t-shirt has butter stains all over it from when I dropped the knife on it at breakfast and I am just noticing it at 11:30 am.
• My car has scratches on the bumper.

These are just a few of the things that immediately came to mind when I thought about worrying.  So in my 30 years of living, how much time have I spent wasted worrying?  Hours?  No, more than that.  Days?  Weeks?  If I don’t stop myself here, I may go on worrying about how much time I’ve spent worrying.  Has worrying helped me in any single situation?  Of course not.  We know worrying is futile.  It’s not constructive.  It’s a waste of time; a waste of emotions; a waste of life.

When I look at my list, I can easily categorize my reasons for worry into one of three groups.  From where I’m sitting, it seems that there are three main types of worry.  (The teacher in my wants to print this page out, cut my list into neat strips, and ask you to use a glue stick to paste them into the appropriate categories below.)

1.  “You Are Ridiculous And Shallow And Immature And No One But You Is Concerned About It” Worries
The worries in this category generally have something to do with what others think.  For example, I bought this shirt in a large so that it will look flowy and full, and stay away from my muffin top, not accentuating my rolls, but now I’m worried and thinking I should have bought a medium so that I don’t look like a frumpy old grandma.  What am I going to do???Gaw!  

I’ve heard worries in this category called First World Worries and that is so accurate.  In America, our lives are so full of extra stuff/activities/obligations/wants/bills that we pile on a whole heap of unnecessary worries.  Worrying about which cable package we should get or if our new rug matches the living room or what color we should dye our hair would not even cross the mind of someone living in the Congo (or someone living in our country 75 years ago).

When it comes to worries like these, I am guilty way too often.  What I need is for someone to say to  yell at me, “Get over yourself!  It doesn’t matter!”  I love the quote that says, “You wouldn’t care so much what people think about you if you knew how little they did.”  I hope that doesn’t sound harsh.  I hope it sounds like a huge box filled with one third of your current worries being lifted off your shoulders.  Ahhhh.

2.  “This Is Real Life And It’s Tough And You’ll Cry, But You’ve Got To Learn To Deal With It” Worries
These worries are hard.  Especially as a mom.  When we find out we’re pregnant or decide to adopt, we’re happy for .37 of a second and then we start to worry.

I’m pregnant – yay!
Am I eating right?  Am I drinking too much caffeine?  Have I felt the baby move today?  Should I go all natural or use an epidural? What if something goes wrong?

We’re adopting – so exciting!
How are we going to pay for this?  What if we never get chosen?  What if the birth mom uses drugs?  What if the birth mom decides to parent?  What if the baby doesn’t attach to us?

And then we actually get a baby.  A real-live human being placed into our very care.
He’s not eating enough.  Should we let her cry it out?  He has a cough.  She’s not crawling yet.  He’s not speaking clearly.  She still sucks her thumb.  What about kidnappers?  What about bullies?  What about peer pressure?

I weave worry webs in my mind, jumping from one source of worry to the next, barely pausing to breathe.  These worries are real and they are scary.  But there is an answer.  What we need when these worries surface is for someone to gently whisper in our ear, “It’s going to be okay.”  The Holy Spirit has graciously volunteered for this job, and he doesn’t stop there.  He begins with, “It’s going to be okay,”  and more importantly ends with, “because I am in control.”  And we say, “Oh yes.  I remember now.”  And our mind gets to rest.

3.  “Break Your Heart, Slap You In The Face, Put A Knot In Your Stomach, Heavy Burden” Worries
The day I heard Jasmine’s story, my heart ached in a brand new way.  I lay in bed that night thinking about the sweet eight year old girl walking up and down the halls of her school, asking one teacher after another to adopt her so she could finally have a family after years in foster care.  I lay awake in my bed for hours and I cried.  And I worried.  And I thought, How can this happen?  What is the answer?  There has to be a solution.

Worries like these are too heavy a burden for us to bear.  They grab hold of you and won’t let you go.  They fill up your brain and devastate your heart.  There is one thing that worries like these call for – action.  We need someone to shout at us, “Do something!”  Worrying is not enough.  Pray!  Give!  Go!  Serve!  Worrying and crying do nothing.  But praying, praying can change someone’s life.  Giving to an organization that gets it, that’s doing the work, that’s powerful.  Stepping out and doing something – donating to a crisis pregnancy center, serving in a soup kitchen, becoming a foster parent, inviting someone who’s outcast into your home for a meal – things like these can change the world.

I’m so thankful for the clarity found in scripture with regards to worrying.   Don’t do it.  It’s pointless.  There’s a better way.

Have you heard the song Your Love is Strong by Jon Foreman?  It’s simple, but it’s so good.  My favorite part – the verses that reach me the most – are these.

I look out the window
The birds are composing
Not a note is out of tune
Or out of place
I look at the meadow
And stare at the flowers
Better dressed than any girl
On her wedding day

So why do I worry?
Why do I freak out?
God knows what I need
You know what I need

We don’t have to worry.  There is a better way.  And the reason is…
His love is strong.

Visiting Heaven

Here’s a little gem from tonight’s bedtime conversation…

Claire:  Mommy, remember that time that me and Mamaw went to Heaven?

Me: Uhh…no.  When did that happen?

Claire:  Yes, Mommy!  Me and Mamaw went to visit Pah in Heaven!

Me:  (Questioning if this is a super-spiritual moment I’m sharing with my little girl)  No, Claire.  I don’t think we’ve ever been to Heaven yet.  We just go there when we die.

Claire:  (Obviously frustrated with my lack of understanding)  Yes I did.  I went with Mamaw to visit Pah.  There were lots of white beds there, and people sitting in chairs, and a really big piano.

Me:  (Lightbulb turning on)  Oh, I understand the place you’re talking about.  That was Pah’s nursing home.  He lived there before he lived in Heaven.

Claire:  (Disgusted)  Mommy, you weren’t there.  Let me call my Mamaw.

New

There is something beautiful about a fresh start.

A newborn baby with a clean slate.
The first gleam of the sun on a new morning.
An empty page waiting to be written on.

Doesn’t the beginning of school feel like that?  Everything’s new.  It’s a fresh start for all of us.  As I look around my classroom, the “sharp” cup for pencils is full – all of them anticipating making their first marks.  Crayons still have their points and their full wrappers.  Bulletin boards are empty, ready to exhibit our learning.  Each desk has a nametag, but no substance yet.  Journals are blank, scissors are in packages, and our charts are bare.  The floors are still shiny from their summer waxing, unsullied from the muddy feet that are to come.

And I am new too.  Each August I get a chance to begin my school year as the teacher I want to be.  The lethargy I felt in April is gone.  The mistakes I made last year are wiped away and I get a fresh slate — sparkly and brand new.  I get the opportunity to introduce myself to 21 little people who I will spend the next 9 months with.

One looks me square in the eye and shakes my hand.

Another hides behind his mom, peeking out from between her legs, trying to size me up.

A little girl shyly whispers, “Do you still have your turtle?”.

A boy marches in like he owns the place, and gives his dad the grand tour.

Each child comes in with a story.  Their story.  It’s theirs to tell and theirs to share.  I am so blessed to get to help them tell it.  And just as importantly, I get to be a character in it.  I get a role in this chapter of their story — a chance to impact the way the rest of their novel will play out.  I can play the nemesis, throwing obstacles and discouragement in their way.  I can choose to tear them down and spend my days just getting by.

Or I can choose to be the one to make the difference.  The one who stands beside them against all odds — encouraging them, believing in them, pushing them to do things they never imagined they could.  I can be the one who gives them the only hug they’ll get that day.  I can be the one who tells them I’m proud of them when they feel like they don’t deserve it.  I can be the one who helps light the flame of a passion for learning.  I can be the one to say, “You’re a reader!” when they didn’t think they could be.  I can be the one who shows them a little piece of Jesus’ love for them.  Lord, in this new year, help me be the one.

A Place For Bows

So…you may have noticed a trend in my how-to posts.  They’re generally very simple.  Pretty straight-forward.  Rather easy to accomplish.  And inevitably, something goes wrong.  Well, I want to inform you that this post will be…exactly like the others.

This project is a bow-holder.  Claire loves bows.  She’s been indoctrinated since birth, and I’m glad it’s finally paying off.  She has so many that it’s hard to keep track of them and keep them organized.  Other bow holders I’ve seen are simply too small for all of them.  So I decided to take matters into my own hands and create a bow holder to accommodate as many as possible.  I made a cute bow holder for her awhile back, and this time I got brave and was making one for a friend’s baby.

So, here we go.

What You Need:

• Empty wooden frame (I got mine from Hobby Lobby – only about $8 @50% off)
• Staple Gun
• 1″ ribbon
• Paint
• Chipboard letters (If desired)

Your first step will be painting the frame.  I’m super crafty and have all kinds of craft paint laying around, but I decided on this occasion to just use leftover Behr paint from our ceilings.  So, here I am, painting away.

I enlisted Claire to take pictures for me, but shockingly, they weren’t turning out too well.  I decided to just use the timer option on the camera.  Of course, this was thrilling for Claire, so we had to stop for a quick let’s-use-the-timer-and-take-pictures-of-both-of-us,-Mommy photo shoot.

I’m sure you’re impressed with the high quality of the pictures.  My next how-to will be on using the self-timer option.  I know you’ll love it.  Thankfully, Chris came along and agreed to be my photographer for the rest of the project.

Moving on…

Once the paint is dry, you need to figure out your spacing for the ribbon.  I was doing 5 rows of ribbon, making them 3 inches apart.  I used a measuring tape and marked each side of where the ribbon would go with a pencil.  Then, cut your strips of ribbon – longer than you’ll actually need them.

Then you can start your stapling.  I found a cute little helper for this part of the job.  Pull the ribbon super tight and staple it to the inside part of the frame, then the outer rim of the frame.  Do this to both ends of each piece of ribbon.

And here’s where this project took a turn for the worse.  I stapled too close to the edge and the staple poked through to the other side.  Of course, this was the night before we were leaving for Cozumel and the baby girl I was making this for was due while we were gone so I HAD to finish.  That’s just the way projects go for me.  

So, Chris ran to Hobby Lobby first thing the next morning and helped me finish just in time to head out of town.  He has the stapling thing down!  And doesn’t he have nice looking forearms?

Here’s the (almost) finished project.  I love it!!

I wanted to put a cute little A on the corner of the frame and bought simple chipboard letters at Hobby Lobby.  Again, even with the excess of craft paint laying around, I went with another option.  Ceiling paint mixed with Claire’s finger paint (don’t tell her – I used it all).  It came out to the perfect shade of pink.  I painted the A, glued it on with a glue gun, and stepped back to admire my work.

Here’s the final finished project.  Simple, sweet, and perfect for lots of bows!

Our Summer in Pictures

If there are 3 things I love they are my family, summer vacation, and pictures.  So, this post is a shrine of sorts to 3 of my favorite things.  I may have gone a little overboard with this one.  Bless you if you actually make it to the end.

We spent 2 weeks in sunny Florida with Chris’ family…

We played at the beach.

Claire tried crab legs for the first time.

We did a sunset photo shoot by the sea.

We took a vacation from our vacation with our good friends Nick and Jessica.

I went to the movies with Leah.

We celebrated Father’s Day with Chris’ dad.

We caught 2 frogs…and then had to set them free.

We met some interesting people at Fort Myers Beach.

Claire played beauty shop with Gammy.

We spent time at the library.

We played in the pool every day (and some nights).

I took a break from wearing make-up and doing my hair and called it my beachy look.

Chris and his dad went fishing.

We went to Estes Park for my cousin’s wedding and a family reunion…

We hiked to a mountain top lake.

We enjoyed the beauty of the mountains.

We skipped rocks.

We took pictures with Mamaw…

and pictures with Papa…

and pictures of ourselves.

We had fun at home in Amarillo…

We rode our bikes to Sonic.

We played in the water.

We had friends over for a July 4th cookout.

We went to Cozumel with my family and enjoyed resort living…

We played at the beach.

We kayaked.

Claire took pictures with her cousins.

We danced.

Chris and Claire stage jumped.

We took family pictures.

We played in the pool.

We painted.

We relaxed and listened to the waves.

Claire got loved on by her cousin.The girls took pictures.
We enjoyed the view.

We celebrated my mom’s 60th birthday…

by taking a girls’ trip to Vegas.

We ended the summer enjoying each other in the simple moments…

We played dress up.

We loved on our friends’ brand new baby girl.

We danced and sang at Laugh-and-Learn.

Claire helped me clean (and loved it!).

We had friends from out of town come visit.

We went to see Texas and Claire loved the “fancy girls with sparkly dresses”.

We fed ducks at the pond.

We camped out in the backyard.

Yes, Summer, we love you.  Blessed for the memories we made this year.  Looking forward to the memories we’ll make this fall – new friends at school, jumping in the leaves,  a trip to the pumpkin patch.  And always, ALWAYS, looking forward to next summer and more memories!

Thoughts on Being a Working Mom

August is here.  I don’t know how that happened.  Suddenly there are school supplies out at Target and teacher friends working in their classrooms.  Sigh.  The end is near.  Summer is such a beautiful, beautiful thing, and it has evaporated right before my eyes.  I love being a stay at home mom for two months out of the year.

When I was pregnant with Claire, Chris and I talked about whether I would stay home or continue working.  We sat down, looked at our budget, talked about the future, and I decided I would continue teaching.  It would be the best choice financially, and I absolutely love my job.  No problem.

Then Claire was born.  She rocked our world and filled us with a brand new kind of love.  I remember standing in her room, holding her, and crying my eyes out the day she turned 1 week old, my heart breaking, because she was growing up so fast.  Going back to work when she was 12 weeks old was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.  I cried every single morning (and sometimes throughout the day) for weeks.  I missed her so bad and I felt so guilty for leaving her.  Honestly, I felt like a second-rate mom.

This is a battle I’ve struggled with all along the way, and although I’m much more at peace with things, I still have a hard time with it now.  I have come up with so many schemes to make staying home possible.  (Even though these plans would entail me working – in my mind, it would be better because I would be home.)

• Opening a catering business
• Selling my breast milk online (My personal favorite plan – sitting around and pumping all day – how hard can that be?)
• Opening up a preschool in our home
• Writing children’s books (This plan almost panned out.)

Obviously, none of these plans panned out for our family.  So here I am, a working mom. Now let me say, I love my job.  I love teaching.  I am so thankful for the chance to influence young lives each day.  I’m thankful for the hugs and the smiles and the joy of learning.  Of all the jobs I could have, I am definitely happy that the one I have is teaching.

But as much as I love my job, I still feel an ache in my heart when I leave Claire in the morning and when I think about leaving our next little one with a sitter.  I worry, worry, worry, over the damage I may be causing them.  And I feel so terribly, horribly guilty.

Guilt.  So much guilt.  I think that is the worst part.  I feel like I’m damaging Claire, not putting my family first, and choosing myself over my child.

So much of this guilt comes from the other side – the stay home side. They probably don’t try to make us working moms feel guilty.  They don’t try to make us feel like less than.  And most of them don’t.  But sometimes they do.  I’ve heard some hurtful things from stay home moms and they sting.  And they stick.  But it’s my fault.  It’s my fault for taking on the guilt.  Stay home moms aren’t the judge of what a good mother is.  I make the choice to feel guilty or not.

Things also swing the other way.  I know it’s easy for working moms to have a low opinion of stay home moms.  We think…What do they do all day?  What do they have to complain about?  But they work hard too.  All day long.  They take care of their kids from 9 to 5 and then they take care of their kids from 5 til bedtime.  We are wrong to judge them too.

Why does it have to be us against them?  Why does one have to be better than the other? Isn’t being a mom tough enough without judging each other for the decisions we make for our families?  Aren’t our own criticisms of ourselves damaging enough without doing it to one another?  What if we just choose to love each other?  Encourage each other?  Pray for each other?  Respect each other?  Wouldn’t that be better for all of us?  I think so.

I know stay home moms who complain constantly about their kids and working moms who complain constantly about their kids.  Stay home moms who cherish time with their kids and working moms who do the same.  It is what you make it.  It’s not one or the other – it’s making a choice to be a good mom who is present with your kids when they’re with you – whether that’s 10 hours a day or 4.

If you’ve chosen to be a stay at home mom, that’s great!  You’ve made a sacrifice to be home with your family and that’s something to be proud of.  You get the honor of spending your days with your kids – taking them to the library, playing on the floor with them, doing chores together.  You get the joy of spending the day together.  You are a great mom and you love your kids.

If you’ve chosen to be a working mom, that’s great!  You’ve made a sacrifice to provide for your family and that’s something to be proud of.  You get the honor of working hard to provide a good life for your family – living in a nice neighborhood, traveling, taking piano lessons.  You get the joy of “I missed you” hugs and evenings spent together.  You are a great mom and you love your kids.

I’m preaching to myself here.  I need to remember all this.  On the day Claire cries at drop off and when I leave our new little one with the sitter for the first time, I’ll cry.  I know I will.  It will be hard and my heart will ache.  But I’m going to try so hard not to feel guilty.  I don’t need to.  And when I pick Claire up from school and feel her little arms squeeze around my neck, I’ll cherish that moment.  And I’ll cherish the many more I get to spend with my family.

Nine Years

This Wednesday will mark nine years married to Chris.  Sometimes I feel like it’s been forever.  It’s hard to remember my life without him or imagine what it would be like if he wasn’t mine.  Other times it seems like it hasn’t been any time at all.  I still feel like I’m a young married girl – having just married my best friend.  We’ve had a happy, adventurous journey so far.

9 years
6 jobs
4 houses
2 cities
1 precious kid and 1 on the way

Here we are on our wedding day.  (Little side story here.  A couple of summers ago I was watching my friend’s little girl and she saw this picture hanging in the kitchen.  Here’s our conversation.  L:  “Wow, Shannon!  Who are those people in that picture?”  Me:  “Oh, that’s me and Chris when we got married.”  L:  “Really??” (shock evident on her face) You sure were a lot more beautifuler then than you are now!”  Cracks me up!  Such a smart little girl she is!!)

And here we are on our honeymoon.  We were just babies.

We’ve shared nine years of marriage. Nine years of how was your day.  Nine years of encouraging.  Nine years of dreaming.  Nine years of fights. Nine years of making up.  Nine years of dishes and laundry.  Nine years of goodnight kisses.  Nine years of sharing.  Nine years of I’ll always love you.  Nine years of dinner together.  Nine years of hand holding.  Nine years of laughing together.  Nine years of crying together.  Nine years of we’re in this together.  Nine years of I’ll always have your back.I am so thankful for the life God has given me and the wonderful husband I get to share the journey with.

I’m not a marriage expert.  We don’t have the perfect marriage and I am far from the perfect wife.  When I started thinking about writing this blog, I thought, “How do we have such a happy marriage?  I have no idea what we do that makes it good.”.  Then as I began thinking about it, I realized that we do lots of things that make it work.  We take the wisdom we’ve learned from family, friends, sermons, and books, and try to put it to good use.  So, here ya go – nine pieces of marriage wisdom from our nine years as husband and wife.

1.  Have a “we’re in it for the long haul” attitude.  Going into marriage, it’s easy to imagine spending the rest of your life with that person.  You’re so in love you just can’t stand it.  Each of you has a set of rose colored glasses that you use to gaze at your new spouse with.  And then the honeymoon ends.  Life gets hard, feelings get hurt, and anger flares.  From the very beginning, Chris and I set out with the attitude that divorce is not an option.  We do not bring up the idea of divorce even in the most heated fight, and do not entertain thoughts about it either.  When we said our vows, we meant them.  There has to be no room in your mind for another option, a second try, a plan b.  This is it, and we are in it for the long haul.  (As a side note, I’d like to say that I know there are extreme circumstances where separation or divorce are necessary.  I’m not speaking to those situations.)

2. Set realistic expectations and share them with your spouse.  I have written about expectations previously, and I feel like this is a huge area of either strength or weakness in a marriage.  We all have expectations.  Some of them are good and others aren’t.  I think the biggest problem with expectations is that most of the time we leave them unspoken.  How often do we get mad at our spouse for doing something that we’ve never asked them not to do?  Or more often, for not doing something that we think they should have done, but haven’t asked them to?  I can think of countless times this has happened in our marriage.  Wouldn’t it be so much easier if we had these conversations before we were upset?  “Chris, would you please block off some time in your schedule to vacuum?  We have friends coming over for dinner tonight.”  “Shannon, I feel like you’ve been kind of negative toward me lately.  Would you please try to be a little more encouraging?”  Especially when a special event is coming up…like our 9 year anniversary.  “Chris, we’ve gotten to do so much this summer, I don’t feel like we need a special anniversary night date.  Maybe just lunch and a nice card.”  Then, everyone’s in the know, everyone’s happy, and everyone’s expectations are met.

3.  Be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry.  I am sharing this one with you because I am sure that it works.  I haven’t tried it out myself yet, as I prefer the quick to speak, get louder faster, act the maddest approach.  In truth though, I do try to put this verse into practice.  And it is so dadgum hard.  But, let me say, that when I really do try to slow down and listen, it makes all the difference.  So many of our conflicts are avoided when even just one of us decides to truly listen to what the other is saying.  Miscommunication happens way too easily.  When we really stop and listen before getting upset, it’s amazing how differently our disagreements turn out.  It’s like God really knew what he was talking about in this verse.

4. Set boundaries.  I remember my grandma saying that one way she knew my grandpa loved her was that she always knew where he was.  That really struck me because I find that feeling in myself.  I appreciate so much that Chris lets me know where he is and what he’s doing all the time.  I don’t mean we stalk each other, or don’t trust each other, or we always have to be on the phone.  But I think it shows a high level of respect for your spouse to let them know your plans.  If Chris is going to work late, he tells me.  If I am going to run errands after I pick up Claire, I let him know.  Along with that, we don’t put ourselves in compromising situations.  I will never be alone in a car or house with another man, and vice versa for Chris.  Since Chris works with pretty much all women, he is particularly careful about situations he puts himself in at school.  We share with each other any extensive conversations we have with members of the opposite sex when one of us isn’t present.  This may sound extreme, but when you stop and think about it, we safeguard the things that matter most and have the most value to us.  Our marriage should be no different.

5.  Reverse the situation.  This is one of our most used phrases.  When we’re fighting about something or disagreeing, one of us will say, “Reverse the situation.”.  That means we pause and try to think about things from the other person’s perspective.  It’s amazing what a difference this makes.  When I really stop and try to put myself in Chris’ shoes in the given situation, or the other way around, it changes the climate of the fight.  Even if I still think I’m right (and I always am), I at least gain an understanding of where Chris is coming from and why he feels the way he does.  Once you get that far, your heart is softened, and it’s easier to come to a resolution.

6.  Spend time together.  For us, this is an easy one.  First of all, I have a “I want to be with people 24/7 and I don’t ever need any alone time” personality.  Second, I think Chris is freakin’ awesome.  Really, he’s so funny.  He makes me smile, makes me giggle, makes me laugh.  He also makes me think, makes me dream, makes me plan.  He’s just good to have around.  We really do like doing everything together.  Going to walmart – great.  Playing basketball in the driveway – sounds like fun.  Folding laundry – let’s do it together.  Time for bed – I’ll go too.  But for lots of people who are not wired like we are, it’s not so easy.  I think you have to make it work for you.  You probably won’t do everything together.  But pick a few things that you both enjoy doing, and don’t give them up.  And sometimes, do something that your spouse loves, even if you really hate it.

7. Seek wisdom from the wise.  If you’re seeking financial advice, you wouldn’t ask a person who’s going bankrupt.  If you’re seeking fitness advice, you wouldn’t ask a person eating 3 meals a day at McDonalds.  When you need marriage advice (and everybody does at some point), seek wise counsel.  Parents, grandparents, pastors, and friends can be great sources of wisdom, advice, and encouragement.  Sometimes it just helps to know that someone else has gone through the same situation you’re going through.  Just be careful to not take advice from anyone who offers it.  There are a lot of people who say they know what they’re doing, but their track record tells a different story.  Of course, the true source of all wisdom is God himself.  Who better to turn to in times of trial, in times of heartache, or even in times of joy?  Whatever season of marriage you’re in, allow God to not just be a part, but to be the center of it all.

8.  Be positive about your spouse.  This one applies both in thoughts and words.  It is so easy to fall into the habit of bashing your spouse…in your mind.  It feels good to really let him have it and say everything you want to say, all in your imagination.  But unhappy thoughts produce more unhappy thoughts and negativity produces more negativity.    It is just as easy to complain about our husbands with our girlfriends.  Husband-bashing is a common language spoken in many circles of women.  But why?  What good does it do to constantly complain about and criticize our husbands?  It doesn’t cause a change in them, it makes us miserable, and it draws out in our friends their own criticisms of their husbands.  My feelings would be terribly hurt and I would be humiliated if I found out Chris sat around with his friends telling them how I don’t do laundry often enough, I’m not patient enough with Claire at times, and I never clean our bathroom (all true).  So why do we do it to our husbands?  We have a choice to think and speak about the negative or dwell on the positive.

9.  Give grace.  There are some times when I just blow it.  I’m rude and mean and hurtful. I say that I’m sorry, but I know that doesn’t make it better or take away the sting of my words.  It’s in those moments that I just need grace.  And I ask for it.  Throughout the years, we are both going to need healthy doses of grace.  Without it, no relationship can survive, especially not for decades.  Chris and I have both had to say numerous times, “I know I’ve blown it.  I know I hurt you.  Sorry is all that I can say, and I know it’s not enough.  Can I please have some grace?”  In those moments, when you’re the giver of grace, try not to be stingy.  It’s so hard to give when you feel you’ve been wronged, but someday soon, you’ll be the one asking.  Just like love, I believe grace covers a multitude of sins.

I’ll end with this beautiful quote by F. Burton Howard:
…and then one day I realized that she had known for a long time something that I was just beginning to understand. If you want something to last forever, you treat it differently. You shield it and protect it. You never abuse it. You don’t expose it to the elements. You don’t make it common or ordinary. If it ever becomes tarnished, you lovingly polish it until it gleams like new. It becomes special because you have made it so, and it grows more beautiful and precious as time goes by.  Eternal marriage is just like that. We need to treat it just that way.