Thursday, May 1, 2014

A Dance

Each week, I open up my blog to one of my Venti Sponsors and allow them to completely take over my blog. They have freedom to write whatever their heart desires, and I am constantly blown away by the amazing content my sponsors and friends have to share with you. Its nice for me to take a night off of blogging knowing that I still get to post a quality piece for you, courtesy of one of my friends on my sidebar. I am especially excited about Amber's post today. She is one of my blogging besties, and she encourages me often. Her heart is pure gold, and her writing is never short of amazing. Today she's sharing a little bit about marriage which you know is one of my favorite topics!

Howdy Happy Choosers! I'm Amber from Mr. Thomas and Me. I'm one third of the Thomas team. Sweet Brittany let me come over and share my heart about marriage and the delicate balancing act that is life spent with another soul.

The honeymoon period is characterized by love and happiness and romance abounding. Ours was that plus deep guilt riddled with pockmarks of resentment. A marriage whose face looked more like the hormone-filled acne central of a teen than a joyful, sky-looking romantic.

Six months after our first date I knew he was my person. I knew we'd spend our lives arguing, loving, laughing, reproducing, enjoying. I knew and it nagged. That little thing in my head -nag, nag, nag.

I dreamed of all those things happy, loving couples do -engagement, marriage, houses, kids, puppies, sports, travel. Those dreams like little ballerinas dancing gracefully across the tides of my mind -beautiful, soft, wondrous. Then, the nag. The ugly little nag. 

We wed; those inklings and thoughts realized on the front lawn of my childhood home. Kissing under that alter he made and I covered in burlap and cotton. I knew he was my person. Yet, I heard the nag. 
We honeymooned like couples do. Complete with sandy beaches, poolside cocktails, tacky kissing pictures. Oh how we honeymooned. But that nag. That little nag. That guilty nag. 

That nag, it said, he doesn't lead.  It reminded me of all those high school sermons that preached about a man leading the home. He's the head. I'm the wife. Oh how I hated that nag. But I was deep in it, we were married, I said I do and he echoed it. What now? Was our new marriage doomed?

From that first night in our apartment filled with laundry and gifts to our second wedding anniversary I harbored that nag. I let it blossom a little seed of resentment. It bloomed in soils frustrated by the need to be quiet, gentle, subservient. It quickly blossomed as the heat of the "biblical model of marriage" poured down on us at church. I felt heavy under the yolk of the gentle wife. He burdened with the expectations of leading it all. Us, young, newly married, confused how this works.

Then, He came in. He said, no dear children, you are unique. Each made specifically by my for a purpose, a love, a family. Two unique parts joined in one sweet marriage births a single, more powerful union unlike any other. 

And I understood. I understood, my husband is a leader and so am I. I'm powerful and opinionated and not good at being a follower -He made me this way. Jason, he's mellow and even keel and prefers to be a teammate -made perfectly so by Him. Decisions are made in the context of conversation after we've both come to just the right answer for us -though, at times. that answer is a compromise.

No role is the husband or wives in our home -other than me girl, him man. I mow the lawn, he does the dishes. I always make the bed, he washes the cars. We're normal in our own right, way, marriage. Our normal doesn't look like the traditional model of biblical marriage, but it's founded on Him. On His grace in our short-comings, on His mercy in trials, on His love in our daily.

Like dancers, we hear the tune life happens to play and share the role of leader. Sometimes it's him, other's it's me. Mostly, we hold tight to one another swaying in the beauty of the music. All the while, He looks on, proud, sure, lovingly.


  1. I seriously needed to read this today. Heading into my own marriage, I am the nagger. Constantly. Glad I'm not the only one that has struggled with this.

  2. Love this post, I can relate 100%!!

  3. Amber never fails to write the words my heart sometimes needs to read.