Photo by Libby Mundy, c. 2015.
They
can become stagnant places where we grow old and crunchy; they can be
icy cold and austere white; they can be deathly quiet and earthly
still. Or not. They can also be places of great vibrancy and beauty.
Of all the colors of the rainbow. Of love lived out loud. Maybe inside
whatever walls your marriage is unfolding there is: laughing and loving
and dancing and playing and learning and seeking and being and
heartbreaks-to-wholeness. I hope that for you.
Because, really, when you think about it, marriage is a verb.
Marriage is:
LovingMarriage is not about finding the right person; it is about being the right person and building the right relationship. Marriage is SO much work. But it’s good work. It’s God work. It’s the work of a lifetime.
And working
And fighting
And fixing.
Liking
And not liking
And choosing
And accepting.
Believing
And affirming
And creating
And being known.
Learning
And teaching
And asking
And biting your tongue.
Balancing
And s t r e t c h i n g
And listening
And breathing deeply.
Keeping
And catching
And lifting
And O-P-E-N-I-N-G.
Trusting
And praying
And forgiving
And letting go.
Living
And laughing
And reminding
And remembering.
Growing
And embracing
And D-a-N-c-I-n-G!
And holding hands.
Marriage is
BECOMING
All the days of our lives.
(Amen.)
Make no mistake. Marriage is not for the weak of heart; for those who lack courage or wherewithal or honesty or humility or the ability to forgive or roll with the punches or . . . well, the point is, it takes a lot of the right stuff and just enough of the wrong stuff to get your problem-solving skills honed and your confidence in your union to optimal levels (and even then, it can still feel like a bit of a crap shoot!). Because those optimal levels, they are always changing, depending on the situation and exactly what life’s thrown at you. (And perhaps our hormone levels, just saying . . .)
For example, my patience threshold? Much, much lower than my dear, enduring husband’s . . . (parenting and marriage have had me doing some patience exercises that rival any upside down, inside out yoga poses I’ve attempted! And I’m certain my adoring husband would agree!!) The point is, marriage isn’t A WALK IN THE PARK (Central or otherwise). But it is lovely. And it is frustrating. And it is the most real, beautiful activity we shall ever undertake, along with that parenting thing. It’s a place where we become more of who we are spiritually meant to be – in the thorns and in the blooms. It’s a spiritual endeavor that has the seeds of wholeness at its core. And with the right actions (full circle back to our verbs!) – plowing, sowing, watering, weeding, fertilizing, harvesting, whatever we are called to do in the name of growth - we can bloom where we are planted.
In our marriages and in our lives.
May your marriage, and your life, be exactly that kind of place, with those kinds of actions.
And good luck with the yoga - especially if you are attempting it in an outhouse!
Namaste.
Photo by Libby Mundy, c. 2015
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