Sometimes I yell at HH. Sometimes I don't really like him for awhile. Sometimes I say too much. Sometimes I'm mad at him. And sometimes he deserves it.
Sometimes, as in almost never, HH yells at me. Sometimes I'm sure he doesn't like me all that much for awhile. Sometimes he says too little. I know there are times when he's mad at me. And I know that most of the time I deserve it.
HH and I, we have this marriage. And the thing is, neither of us has been here before. Neither of us know how to do this thing called life together. We've had examples. Some really good, and some really bad. But sometimes marriage is like trying to follow a recipe with only a picture of the finished product as your guide.
Sometimes, as in often, we are floundering. Fish thrown on dry land, gasping for air and struggling to find our way home. And sometimes we are floating. A steady, gentle current is carrying us along, easing us around the bends.
I read recently that some are questioning the value that Christians place on virginity in marriage. Reading through the long list of comments I kept wanting to add my own. But there didn't seem like a safe place.
When HH and I said "I do" to each other almost eight years ago, there were many firsts for us. For us both. First "I love you." First kisses. First...other things. First Valentines. Lots of firsts. And, yes, I did have romantic ideas of fairy tale living, but I also knew that what we were really saying yes to was all those amazing firsts and many more amazing moments...and a lot of life. Hopefully lots and lots and lots of life.
I found a safety in that. I found safety in knowing that we were walking into our life together, with the knowledge that we would learn how to figure out life together. I found safety in knowing that he is the only one who knows all of me. There is a venerability in knowing only one person so well.
There have been times when I find fear creeping in. What if he hurts me? What if he lets me down? In those moments I'm taken back to the wise words of a woman who encouraged me to "Put my trust in God who is in my husband" instead of placing that on HH shoulders.
There was a time, around ten years ago, when a man asked me and my friends what we were looking for in a spouse. My 22ish year old self was taken over by my 5 year old self, and I boldly stated, "I wanna marry my dad." My five year old self had no idea how prophetic she was being in that moment.
The man chuckled and warned, "Remember, it has taken your dad 40-something years to become who he is today."
There are times when my thirty-something self has lamented the fact that I wasn't more specific. My five year old self was spot on.
But the beauty isn't that I married a perfect man. It's that I married a man who is perfect for me and we get to grow in perfection together.
A wise man I know once said "relationships are messy." But I disagree...or maybe I've been taught the value of clarifying the definition of what one wishes to convey. I believe that people are messy. And messy people can cause messy relationships. But we're all messy. And this messy person loves her life with her messy HH.