Preliminary Thoughts on Marriage

Today we will have been married for three (3) months.

It feels like maybe we are just a dating couple that is cohabitating, in that we are still very polite and gentle with each other. (Still, in a warm and respectful way, not in a shy way.) I only know we are married because we are so much happier than when we were dating. No longer long-distance and no longer insecure. We are bonded to each other now, and so we live with the comfort of this assurance--this person will not leave me alone.

He went to the grocery store on Sunday morning, and I stayed behind out of consideration for the store's capacity rules. I looked around the apartment grasping for some way to spend this rare time alone. I found that I missed him! After three months of non-stop togetherness, all day every day, I discovered I had no suppressed activities waiting in the wings for his non-presence.

I find butter and crumbs and coffee dribbles and mysterious sticky spots all over the kitchen counter and cabinet handles, and I smile to myself. He is like my dad this way, and also, if my dad is still doing this at 59 years old, I cannot have high expectations that my guy will cease this low-grade messiness during our marriage, so I might as well learn to accept it.

Then I wonder, what if it's actually me??? Do I leave butter and crumbs and coffee dribbles all over the kitchen? No way to know . . .

There is something we grieve about. I have not taken to sex half as easily as I expected I might have, and while I was not naive enough to think there would be no learning curve there, the challenge is not at all what I expected it might be. Our efforts to progress have not really met with any fruition, and in our helplessness and disappointment, we are unsure of how to proceed.

Still, it is touching to me that we grieve together. 

It is a blessing to be together.

Drama

My sister confronted me on Easter about my neglect of our relationship since quarantine started. Thinking of my previous post pricked my conscience. 

I made me feel angry and defensive, because if you look at the facts, I had done nothing wrong. I had not neglected her. But my defensiveness was shadowed by guilt, because I knew she was nevertheless correct, because I knew I was going through the motions, that my efforts were not sincere. And regardless of who is "correct," her feelings are still there. 

What do I do with that? I asked my husband. His advice was so good. Don't be bitter. Keep reaching out. Reach out in a way that can be sincere for you. And bless his heart, he was even more concrete. Send video messages on Instagram, boom. 

I think my sister wants me to bare my soul to her, and this is a good desire and it is possible to have this between sisters. I want to be close to her, too, but how can I trust her to extend me grace for the things on my heart if she cannot extend me grace these other grievances of distance and inattention? 

I know I can't be petty and bitter. I know I have to forgive and extend her grace for her insecurity. But it is also painful to be judged by her. I imagine she feels a similar pain in the distance. So she and I, we are trying to parse that pain and get closer, but maybe we have different ideas about what that looks like. 

I thought maybe I distanced from others in order to protect them from me failing them, but maybe it is also possible that I distance from others in order to protect myself how uncomfortable it is to be humble and soft-hearted and forgiving. 

Confession

I have avarice. I did not know this was the word for it. I did not know how to describe my fear of connecting with and investing in others. 

But it is true that I want to direct how I spend my time. It is true that I am uncomfortable with the expectations others make of me. It is true that I worry about letting people down, and instead of working tirelessly to make sure expectations are met and people are affirmed, I withdraw, I resent their needs, I resent their claims on my time and emotional resources, or I feel no guilt in setting boundaries that are too firm and too conservative. Too many texts and calls go ignored because, "I just can't." 

It is avarice.

And it has failed to protect me from the guilt and pain of not being there for others, because the more I distance and resolve to meet my own needs, the more needy I feel. 

But I have heard, that in His great mercy, He has promised to turn my guilt into innocence. He has promised to fill me with His infinite resources. He will make me enough for others. He will cover me when I fail them. He will heal the pain that inevitably crops up in the midst of closeness. He will make it possible for me to start anew, every single day. 

He commands me, do not be afraid. I cannot fear hurting others. I cannot fear being drained of my resources. I cannot fear burnout. I cannot fear their expectations. I cannot fear being tied down. 

If I can count on Him, He will make it possible for me to reach out. For me to build others up. For me to be there for people. For me to have friends that give life and not pain, guilt. 

He is infinite. He is everlasting. He is a well that does not run dry. Drink as much as you need, He says. Your weaknesses are not a problem. I can make goodness from your feeble and fractured attempts. I believe He really will take care of me.