November 5th, I finally (finally!) got married for the first time at 37 years old. Since God mended my bitter little heart towards men more than a decade ago, this has been the desire of my heart. And, o man, do I ever love Jason. In so many ways he’s exactly what I’ve been praying for. As you can imagine my friends and family are thrilled. Everywhere I go, people keep asking me how married life is treating me.
And I don’t quite know how to answer. Because it’s wonderful, it’s amazing. I love having Jason and my stepdaughters here, no more crying as they fly back to Colorado. I adore how my family doubled in size; I always dreamed about a large family. Jason is compassionate and gentle, full of humor and a genuine love of the Lord. I’m a lucky woman. Truly.
Yet, there’s been one aspect of marriage that’s been less than ideal, and in the last 29 days it’s wrecked havoc.
Marriage seems to be specially designed to bring character flaws to light. And, as it turns out, I have a massive, ugly character flaw. One I, honestly, did not expect.
Ya’ll, I have control issues.
No, really. Really.
If you had asked me 30 days ago if I thought I was controlling, the answer would have been, “No!”
Of course not.
I’m a real laid back kinda person. Mellow even. I go with the flow.
It has quickly come to light that I think there is a single correct way to accomplish just about everything: loading the dishwasher, cleaning the bathrooms, folding the laundry, cooking dinner, disciplining children, listening to music, utilizing free time, grocery shopping, spending money. If we do it, I’ve got an opinion about the only right way it can be done. And I’m not afraid to show it. In my words, on my face, and in my attitude.
This is not the kind of woman I thought I’d be.
In fact, in the past, my censor has been for other women, wives. I’ve watched them in their marriages and tut-tutted. Sharp tongued, discontent, unappreciative women who didn’t respect their husbands and just would not be satisfied have driven me nuts. How could they, when some of us have been single a lifetime and hoped for a loving husband? O, I’ve had no lack of mental criticism for those “dripping faucet” wives.
I am that dripping faucet. Luckily for me, sweet Jason hasn’t gone to live on a corner of the roof. Yet.
That’s hard to swallow. This is my happily ever after and I’m stealing my own joy.
And, even harder to accept, I don’t have a neat tidy answer for this…
You know I always have a neat, tidy answer for things. Do you need advice on any given subject? I’ve got you.
Maybe that’s my problem. A woman who’s got her stuff together and has all the answers doesn’t need a husband. She doesn’t need the Lord. She doesn’t even need her kids. She doesn’t need anyone.
So ask me how married life is treating me; the answer is messy. It’s easier than being alone and more difficult than singleness. It’s beautiful and it brings out my ugly. It’s refining by fire and learning to love unconditionally. It’s worth it.
So, if you think about it, say a little prayer for me. I’m working on relaxing a bit.
Better yet, pray for Jason. He’s gonna need it.