Thursday, August 17, 2006
Four years ago today I got married.
Previous to meeting Nick I wanted to be a single girl forever. In highschool I had dreams of being an Interior Designer and had my whole life planned out. I was going to go to design school in the States so as to get more recognition, and since I didn't have any type of trust fund I was planning on doing it Coyote Ugly style. That's right, I actually planned on stripping to pay my tuition bills. Then I would graduate debt free, with the silver lining of a large bank account, I would become a famous designer, (perhaps I even could have been business partners with Nate Berkus). I would attend galas, have a closet full of fancy dresses that I would actually wear on a regular basis, and when I had the house and the cars and life looked perfect on paper I would hop over to my local sperm bank and add the crowning touch, some trophy children. I had it all figured out in highschool.
Then through a series of what seemed to be unfortunate events I ended up broke and needing out of my house. I moved literally across the street to attend Bible College. I continued to hold my highschool plans, but needed to get some money to get across the border and get that rat invested apartment I dreamed of starting out in. Then something started to happen to me and I began to believe that I was worth more than the singles men would be placing in my g-string. But, then some bizarre events happened to me. I was nearly pulled into a suburban by some men while riding my bike on a main street in Regina, I was followed by a, um, ahem, visibly excited male on my way to work which ended up with him, um, ahem, taking care of business without me, thankfully. I dated a guy who didn't want to have anything to do with me unless it involved swapping of saliva, and I found myself working towards that old goal of high heels and drunk men.
Again, through a series of what seemed unfortunate events I ended up back at CBC for a second year, and again I heard God whispering that I was worth more and that I needed the courage to believe it. And that's when I met Nick. And that is when I tried to run. Literally. To Mexico. But God made sure I stayed and gave Nick the perseverance to ask me to marry him again and again until I finally caved and said sure. Now don't get me wrong, I love Nick. I really, really do. But up to that point I had not been sold on the idea of being a wife. I mean guys are smelly. And no matter how many times you express your displeasure with it, they still treat you like "one of the guys" on a regular basis. And when you're a wife you have to adopt the ideals of your husband as he saw modelled in his home, and you inevitably express yourself through what you saw in your home, it's just the default no matter how many times you've said "I will not be my parents".
So a few years later we took the plunge. It made sense to us, it was time for me to jump in with both feet. And I did, crying the whole time. Everyone talks about how great it is to be married, and how much excitement there is leading up to the day, but no one talks about mourning the loss of your singleness and man did I ever need to mourn that. I couldn't imagine thinking of someone else first all the time when there's only one piece of pizza left. Or putting aside money to surprise a man with a trip when I so desperately want a new wardrobe. I couldn't imagine trying to get the mixed up things in my head out, and not only out, but out in Guyspeak. (Side note, my hubby is very much a guy. He's not romantic, even forgot today was our anniversary, so some of this need not apply to the more metrosexual hubby's. I just like to generalize).
And tonight at about 11:00 when I looked over at hubby working on a 3-D puzzle which is his current de-stressor from work, (although it seems to cause more stress, hmmmm), I pointedly said-'Let me know when you're ready for bed and we'll go up together.', and half hour later he said to me......well nothing because he's asleep on the floor next to said puzzle. And I began to think about being a wife, and letting go of my old self. I was distracted by my current scrapbooking project, and then I came back to the thought, and was distracted again and then I felt like journaling and so I picked up my journal and instead of writing anything I re-read my previous entry, the last entry I made, way back on June 11.
And it speaks just of what I was thinking tonight. And I'm going to put it here, because on my fourth anniversary I realize that I haven't totally sold out to being a wife, or the mother of Nick's children, and that is simply not cool with me. I'm writing this entry as a new beginning. That this is my focus for the next year. Not working as it has been for so long. This is the perspective I need to adopt and fall in love with and in essence become.
So feel free to read it if you like, and if you've made it this far-thanks. Feel free to call me on it throughout the year. Ask me how I'm doing with coming into my own as a wife. I am opening myself up for that today, and I think it's the best anniversary gift I can give.
June 11, 2006
I don't know why it takes me so long to remember that I am married and that my husband wants to be my best friend. Two times today I cried and it wasn't until he held my hand silently that I told him what I was thinking. Every time I share my heart with him he amazes me. He doesn't seem to show interest in me much, but each time we talk for real he surprises me with how much he knows me.
I've been reading this book by Max Lucado, 'The Cure for the Common Life" and for the first time ever I feel that the passions I have need to direct my life, not just be put under a barrel so I can help someone else pursue theirs. I think for the first time ever I'm passionate about me.
I have known for a long time that I'm not living a congruent life. That that the things I do are not the things I can excel at, not even the things I want to do. Working just to pay the bills kills me. And because it kills me I don't even effectively pay the bills.
I had so many thoughts while reading tonight's chapter, (11), that I am invigorated and don't even feel tired at 2:45am. God is doing a work in me and although I've whined about being broken a lot lately I actually finally am.
We are scared spitless of covering our financial costs of moving to Georgetown. To think we need nearly $3,000 a month just to scrape by brings both of us to tears and leaves us feeling defeated. But at the same time there is total peace that this is where God is leading and this is the time to go. We may be very broke for a while and I'm sure there will be many days of tears, but I do believe that the non-monetary return on our investment is going to blow us away. I'm still praying and asking God for a knock our socks off financial blessing, but even if I have to wait as long as Sarah did for a child, I will remain faithful to this journey.
Tonights chapter was about giving God your boat, (boat being job), and I think that's where my challenge lies. Instead of daydreaming about how different life could have turned out if I'd just asked out my highschool crush or followed my dream of being an Interior Designer-I need to be sold out to being a mom, wife, friend, housekeeper, etc and give God my boat.
How amazing would life be if instead of chores being chores they became instead preparation to show Christ to my family and friends? How amazing if instead of filling conversations with 'how's the weather' I filled them with what God is teaching/showing/challenging me with? Wouldn't that be cool?
I need to discipline myself until a change of perspective takes over. Instead of whining about paying $1,200 a month for rent, I need to figure out how to make my home look and feel like $1,200 a month is a steal of a deal.
I feel as though I'm on the brink of stepping into myself and become the person God created me to be. And not to be conceited but I think I can finally handle my own greatness.
I know there is a long hard journey ahead of us, but I am beginning to feel like I have the energy for it. I'm beginning to see meaning in the seemingly meaningless.
What a journey. What a crazy, crazy journey.
Posted by Amanda Franks at 9:32 PM