Deep Thoughts About Marriage (with 27 days to go)

It's October 1st. John and I are getting married in only 27 days!

More importantly, my sister Meghan would interject, it's her birthday tomorrow - October 2nd. October 2nd is also my sister Caitlin's wedding anniversary. When you're from a big family you share a lot of things, including calendar dates.

So, it's a big month, in other words.

I've always enjoyed asking my engaged friends how they're feeling, each step of the way, and how they knew that this person was the person they would marry, and what were the guideposts they followed? I've treasured these thoughts, questions, doubts, and revelations in each friend. It's amazing how different each story is, and how tailor-made it seems for each person.

But I've especially treasured the stories of friends who were able to strip their stories down to bare honesty - who told me that they didn't "just know," and that the decision to marry came with a lot of deliberation, messiness, and uncertainty - who told me about post-engagement jitters, the variety of ups and downs experienced while everyone around them said, "you must be so excited!"

Back in high school youth group, we took a temperament test where you'd find out that you were one of four appetizing-sounding "temperaments" - the slow and steady phlegmatic, the active and worker bee choleric, the social butterfly sanguine, or the thoughtful, worried, analytical melancholic. If you know me, you probably know that I am the last of the four :)

This being said, the journey of dating and discernment was particularly bewildering. How does someone who second guesses everything, "just know?" While the cholerics are bulldozing through life, and the sanguines knowing optimistically that it will all work out, and the phlegmatics among us are steadily walking through their commitments, we melancholics find everything, whether it is or is not, a challenge, a quest, a puzzle. And don't even mention the component perfectionism brings to it.

So, on the cusp of marriage, John (sanguine choleric, although he doesn't like to be labeled) is ready to jump in with both feet, and I am excitedly trouble-shooting in advance. As we worked with the mentor couple that our church assigned us, I asked for more charts and more homework, loving the process of pencil to paper, and John said, "We'll probably really be ready to do this homework once we're actually married."

It's kind of hard to explain how trouble-shooting and worrying can be exciting if you're not a person who likes puzzles. Every time someone says, "You must be so excited!" I tell them how I am thinking about all the potential problems that could arise and mentally working through them, and they look at me like, "Aren't you excited though...?" But it is exciting. Just like how crossword and jigsaw puzzles are exciting.

It's working through life. It's embarking on a great quest. It's that feeling you get when you're packing for a trip, and you want your backpack to have all the stuff you need so that you will arrive equipped and ready.

There are some honest things I'd like to say, firstly, so that I remember them when life looks different. Secondly, because I know there is probably somebody out there like me, somewhere, who is bewildered about discerning, or unsure of what it's "supposed to look like" when you have discerned your vocation in life. So, here's what I have.

 I never "just knew." And I also never "stopped looking."And it's not a matter of having "figured something out" that single people haven't figured out yet. These two phrases came up hundreds of times when having that conversation about "how will you know?" Everyone says them, so they must be true. You'll "just know," but you can't know before you know. And it can't possibly happen if you're looking for it, so the only way that the love of your life will know to come in is if you have reached a perfect state of not wanting or not looking, or not caring. Baloney. (At least for me).

Being analytical, there was never a moment that I looked in John's eyes and was like, "Wow, I just know he's the one for me." And I'll tell you the honest truth. I looked in about five or six other people's eyes and thought I just knew, and they are all married to other people now or happily single. So was I right then? If I were to try to spell out what makes making the choice to marry John possible, I could pin-point a few things that feel different from before, and if you're curious I would be happy to tell you.

What surprised me about becoming engaged, was how "choicy" it felt. As much as we know life isn't a Disney movie, we do tend to walk around thinking fatalistically about "the one." There is a "supposed to"-ness about it, in the way we discuss it, in the way we market it. Because God will have shown us that this is the one, we will be predestined to say yes, and set the world spinning in a certain direction.

What's different from what I expected, is how earthy it really is. I said yes when John asked me this question, and a day after, it felt very unreal, and a week after, it started feeling more real.

And now it feels like a road that is slowly building itself in a new direction, and there has been ongoing peace and joy. It's important, though, to remember that it is a choice. Everything starts out exciting: new babies. Working with a personal trainer. Piano lessons. There is a thrill that comes with newness, and a particular excitement that comes when you haven't gotten your hands dirty yet. And this is an important excitement. But (and this is why I'm thankful for taking piano lessons) - you reach days and years where it feels like a chore, when you're immersed in the hard work, and not singing the praises of the thing you have undertaken. Sometimes the only thing that keeps you going is knowing that your parents paid for lessons. Or that you promised Betsy that you would show up at the gym at 6:30am. Or that you made the choice. It takes a while - maybe a recital, maybe a moment of real joy or connection - that helps you remember again, why you decided to do it in the first place. It's helpful to know that making a choice is easier when you know it will follow this arc.

The longer our engagement has gone on, I come to the conclusion that you can't really be prepared for marriage. 

Not that it's not good to try. We took the Prepare test, that helps you see where your expectations and beliefs about marriage line up and where they don't. That helped. It really has helped to ask people what they have learned by being married. There are so many great books out there, and believe me, I tried to find them all. John and I have found some good podcasts to listen to and talk through.

But in another sense, I keep coming up against the fact that marriage is uncharted territory. You have to be in it to know it. We don't live together, and so we will have many new things to learn - comical, painful, awkward, and humbling, I'm sure. It's starting to dawn on me that it's okay that it's uncharted territory.

I have been surprised at how easily planning the wedding can eclipse the marriage. 

It was something I said I'd never do... be a wedding planner to the detriment of marriage planning. But here it is. Not that you go in thinking the wedding is more important. I doubt most couples do. What I've noticed is that sometimes, when looking at "Oh, wow, life as I know it is about to change drastically. What is about to happen?" I will turn to easier, more finite questions like, "What kind of wedding favors?" "How can I collect and store all of these addresses?" Concrete things tend to win over large, abstract things.

It's also surprising how good of a marriage preparation you can have through planning a wedding together. 

I have learned so much about John through planning details. How important it is for him to be generous with friends. How much he loves burgundy paisley. I went in thinking that marriage prep was all Prepare tests and practicing communication skills. But as we plan a big day that is, in reality, just the first of many days, I've learned that it's great ground for discussions about money, learning how to disagree and find a compromise, and learning how to talk things through. We'll need these skills in other areas of life, too, so it's wise to use this time now as an opportunity.

The biggest thing that emerges now, as we are about to be married, is a deep gratitude for the friendships and experiences that led us here. 

It was an instant hit and then it became a cliche, but I still love the song "Bless the Broken Road," because it's true.

Not just when you're getting married, but every time your life hits a milestone moment, you become aware of the stepping stones that led up to it: many painful days, joyful days, friendships that have held on through many years, friendships that were for a valuable season. Every life experience has had a value and a reason, and a way of helping shape and grow us to the next part of the journey. As John and I prepare to join our lives, it has been such a great blessing to get to know his friends and the times in his life that he went through - seasons in his life that have shaped his character and what is important to him. I am thinking, too, of the many times with friends over my single years - things people said that gave me strength, courage or wisdom when really needed, or times people shared with me when their presence was so necessary, or even the stories people have lived, that have offered me insight about life. For all of those people, and times, I am so deeply grateful.