"Dancing in the Minefields"
Eight years ago today, I strode up the aisle of my childhood parish to greet the man I had chosen to spend the rest of my life with. I wasn't afraid at all. I knew he loved me, I knew he was a good man. I also knew both of us were raised in loving households, so we both had the example of a loving and strong marriage to build from. We were going to do this amazing life, and beautifully so.
Today, I wouldn't be afraid to do it all over again. Yet my perspective would be different.
When we were engaged, we'd hear over and over how "marriage is so much work," and I honestly didn't understand what that meant. I looked out into the Big Bad World and saw how marriage was under attack. So I assumed the hard work of marriage was to weather the storms of the culture. "So long as we had each other," I thought, "we'd be just fine."
What I didn't know was that some of the hardest storms a marriage faces brew between the spouses themselves. "Hostile culture" be damned, there's plenty of hostility in the hearts of two sinful people who have pledged to put up with each other day after day. Hurtful words, misunderstood words, even the occasional broken dish (by yours truly; mea maxima culpa) -- these all bubble and brew and with no respite from the daily grind of dirty dishes, laundry, bill-paying and parenting.
Having lived through a few of these seasons, and knowing full well they will return at some time again, I can honestly say our marriage is better and I wouldn't want a different life. When we first said our vows, we were little more than idealistic children. Now we have a few more years of wisdom and life experience that stretched us into better listeners, easier laughers, and better forgivers. And our life is much better because of this.
I recently came across a beautiful song written by a Christian singer-songwriter (if that description stops you dead in your tracks, don't let it. It really is a wonderfully written song). He tells the story of how he and his wife got together, and it's uncannily like me and Patrick. Even small details like the woman being a little older, and the ring being purchased at a pawn shop, apply to us. I love it so much because unlike so many love songs, which so often to transmit a 'happily ever after' message, this song conveys that the beauty is in the sacrifice and commitment, not in the fleeting seasons where everything seems to go so perfectly like one continuous fairy tale.
The second verse begins
Today, I wouldn't be afraid to do it all over again. Yet my perspective would be different.
When we were engaged, we'd hear over and over how "marriage is so much work," and I honestly didn't understand what that meant. I looked out into the Big Bad World and saw how marriage was under attack. So I assumed the hard work of marriage was to weather the storms of the culture. "So long as we had each other," I thought, "we'd be just fine."
What I didn't know was that some of the hardest storms a marriage faces brew between the spouses themselves. "Hostile culture" be damned, there's plenty of hostility in the hearts of two sinful people who have pledged to put up with each other day after day. Hurtful words, misunderstood words, even the occasional broken dish (by yours truly; mea maxima culpa) -- these all bubble and brew and with no respite from the daily grind of dirty dishes, laundry, bill-paying and parenting.
Having lived through a few of these seasons, and knowing full well they will return at some time again, I can honestly say our marriage is better and I wouldn't want a different life. When we first said our vows, we were little more than idealistic children. Now we have a few more years of wisdom and life experience that stretched us into better listeners, easier laughers, and better forgivers. And our life is much better because of this.
I recently came across a beautiful song written by a Christian singer-songwriter (if that description stops you dead in your tracks, don't let it. It really is a wonderfully written song). He tells the story of how he and his wife got together, and it's uncannily like me and Patrick. Even small details like the woman being a little older, and the ring being purchased at a pawn shop, apply to us. I love it so much because unlike so many love songs, which so often to transmit a 'happily ever after' message, this song conveys that the beauty is in the sacrifice and commitment, not in the fleeting seasons where everything seems to go so perfectly like one continuous fairy tale.
The second verse begins
'I do' are the two most famous last words,
The beginning of the end
But to lose your life for another, I've heard,
Is a good place to begin
And so it is with us. Whatever idealism sustained us in those early days was a dreamy place to begin. Yet the daily laying down of ourselves in the reality of raising our family is a good place to be. In fact, it's a wonderful, holy place where we take off our shoes to quietly thank the Lord that we get to live it.
"This is harder than we dreamed but I believe that's what the promise is for."
-- "Dancing in the Minefields", Andrew Peterson
As an aside, when I was playing this song a few days ago, Noah asked me what a minefield was. After I explained, he scrunched up his face and said "well that's a terrible metaphor for marriage!"
That kid....
I love this song. I can't remember how I found it a few years ago, but I did and fell in love with it. Oh, yes, it was on a blog! Anyway, we have since used it on marriage prep and at a talk at MH. My favourite line is, "and when I forget my name, you'll remind me." Makes me cry every time.
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