Making the heart grow fonder...

This weekend, Kelly went away with some friends for a getaway. It was our first weekend where we didn't see each other in probably about a year, definitely since before last Thanksgiving.

I should be used to not seeing Kelly. After all, we live 90 minutes away. We only really see each other once during the week and then again on the weekends--there are often 3-4 day periods where we don't see each other and sometimes, if one of us has a busy stretch of week days ahead, we'll go Sunday night-Saturday afternoon without seeing each other.

And to be honest, there was a small part of me looking forward to a quiet weekend alone. I'd come to the point at work where I knew I could use a long weekend, so I requested last Friday off. I figured three days to myself would allow me to catch up on some things around the house, run some errands, watch a stack of movie rentals I'd been neglecting and recharge my batteries to hit the ground running at the office on Monday morning.

And don't get me wrong: this weekend was extremely relaxing. I got the license tabs renewed on my car. I did some grocery shopping and cleaned my house. Caught up on my laundry and mowed the lawn. Took several long walks and hit the gym. I went to the movies once and then came home to watch five more over the space of the weekend. I had a nice, big breakfast out this morning before church and spent the afternoon napping, walking, reading and catching up on my blogging.

But sometime was missing. Last night after finishing "Ghostbusters," I jumped on my Facebook and found myself drawn to Kelly's page. And I found myself browsing her photos and feeling a bit sad. I sat at church today realizing how lonely it felt to sit there--even among friends--without my arm around her. As I took a walk this afternoon I reflected on the fact that I hadn't had a good conversation all weekend. I also hadn't been able to do anything nice for someone. While the time alone was very relaxing and well-needed, the truth is it missed the richness that it has when I'm with Kelly that comes from good conversation or simply just being with another person who loves you and just loves being with you.

In singleness we ask ourselves the question "can I do it alone?" We wonder early on in adulthood whether we can face this world with all its responsibilities and challenges on our lonesome. Can we endure the days at work without knowing someone's waiting for us at home? Can we sit through weekends by ourselves without someone to talk to? Are we going to be able to feed ourselves, dress ourselves and pay our bills without another's help?

Of course, if you're single long enough you realize that yes, you can do it alone. I didn't burn the house down this weekend or poison myself. During my 10 years of single adulthood I dressed myself (however badly) and paid my own bills. Survival on our own is possible and if you're single long enough you might learn you're quite good at it.

But one question I've asked over and again since starting this relationship with Kelly is not "can I do this alone" but "do I want to"?

And yes, sometimes being in a relationship requires sacrifice and accommodation. I know it's not always convenient, affordable or easy for Kelly or myself to uproot ourselves every weekend and spend it with another person. I know that sometimes one of us just wants a quiet evening after work and doesn't want to spend an hour on the phone. And there are probably times when one of us just stops and thinks "you know, relationships complicate things. Maybe George Clooney had it right and I should empty this person out of my backpack so I can move a bit faster. Maybe it would be easier to survive if I just cut loose these entanglements and focused on work, school and paying bills."

But, as the captain in WALL-E said, I don't want to survive. I want to live.

The truth that I saw this weekend is that I'm so much better with Kelly. Yes, I could stop and survive and just spend my life alone watching movies, writing blogs and eating pizza. But it would be rote and routine. There would be nothing worth challenging, nothing worth savoring and nothing worth getting out of bed in the morning for.

Relationships are how we grow. One thing I'm learning every day is how God shows me more of His love and how He expects me to love others through the way I interact with Kelly. We've learned patience, kindness, listening and gentleness through our successes and failures in communication.

Relationships are how we love life. I'll tread lightly here because I know how hard it is for single men and women to read sometime, but the truth is that there's a richness to life when you find that special person. Kelly and I have spent several weekends doing nothing more than what I did this weekend--sitting on the couch watching movies and talking. Yet there's something so much meaningful in the banter we have, the playful looks we give or just the simple gesture of holding each other while we watch TV that makes those moments so much more meaningful.

Finally, relationships are how we learn to let go of ourselves. Oddly enough, one of the most selfish times in my life was my time as a single man. It was during that time that I could do anything I wanted, fended only for myself and had to answer only to me. Even my search for relationship was to cure my loneliness. The truth is that, in that, I made independence and self an idol, which has been my biggest challenge in preparing for marriage.

The truth is that the Bible doesn't speak very kindly about independence our living life the way we want. The Bible doesn't give any lip service to "me time." Instead, it calls us to a life of surrender and self-denial, to model the behavior of Christ that sent Him from Heaven to the cross to reconcile lost sinners to himself. It's that relationship--the picture of Christ and the Church--that is the entire basis of marriage.

If you want to be taught how to sacrifice yourself in a hurry, get in a relationship with someone. You'll find that you make accommodations to your time, care for them when they're sick, spend your money on them and learn to let go of some of your little pleasures and hobbies to make this thing work.

And it sounds daunting--but here's the secret: when you let go of it and find yourself growing and loving this person, you don't really dwell on how much you're sacrificing. It's a joy to care for them, to spend your time with them. It's your pleasure to get them tea when they're sick, even when all you can do at the end of the evening is give them a hug or kiss their forehead because they're so sick. In giving up your independence and learning to live for another person, you experience joy because you realize they're worth it. And then your realize that this is how much Christ loves us, and you get even more joy!

And I'd never have learned the things I'm learning about compassion, empathy, servanthood, love and sacrifice without having met Kelly. Whether she's intended or not, she's making me a better person. I'm doing things that, without God's help, I never would have done before. But because of this great relationship He's called me into, I'm growing in the relationship I have with Him.

And so I can't wait for Kelly to come home, so I can start over loving her again :-)

CW

Bookstores, Zombies and Independence

Ever since Kelly and I started dating, bookstores have been a staple of our relationship.

We're both book lovers who refuse to get Kindles. So it just makes sense that many of our dates have found us wandering used book stores or spending hours lost in Borders. When we meet up in Ann Arbor once a week, we usually meet at a Borders downtown and spend a few hours browsing before heading out for coffee or on a walk.

A few weeks back, we were out at a Barnes and Noble on a rainy Saturday, killing time before a movie. Walking down the aisles Kelly asked if she could take a break and look around on her own for a few minutes. I think I had to use the restroom (I usually do) so I had no problem wandering away, thinking nothing of it.

About 20 minutes later, out of the blue, Kelly made a confession. She likes walking around bookstores on her own, getting lost in the different offerings. Ever since we'd started dating, we'd basically looked at bookstores together, not leaving each other's sides. She felt that she had lost a bit of her identity in that, losing something that she loved doing. And she confessed that it was a fear she had of marriage--losing some of her independence and individuality.

I'll confess that until that moment I had no idea she felt that way about the bookstores. And in all honesty, had I known that, I would have made sure that when we went into one we took time to browse on our own before meeting back up. As much as I love looking at books and browsing DVDs and CDS with her, I love to get lost on my own just as much. And I assured her I would definitely keep that in mind on future outings.

But I'm glad she brought it up. Because the fear of losing individuality and independence once we're married is one I share as well.

I know it's not a unique fear, but I have a hunch it might be stronger among those who get married in their late 20s or early 30s.

As I've stated before, there is a huge difference between being single and 21 and single and 30.

And the issue of independence is one of those.

In your early 20s, you really haven't had much of a chance to build up your routines. You've probably spent four years in college surrounded by friends and chances are that your early twenties are simply spent surviving at a job, living paycheck to paycheck and going out on the weekends with friends. I'm not saying there aren't sacrifices to your independence that are made when you marry young, but there's less of an established routine and lifestyle at that age.

But by the time you hit 30, you've established who you are a bit more. You have passions, hobbies and outside interests. You have church groups, sports teams and other responsibilities you're involved in. You like certain movies, books or music. You have a set routine: home by 5, dinner by six, hit the gym and spend the evening writing or watching TV before going to bed at 11. On Saturdays I have a routine of waking up in the morning, having coffee while catching up with DVR'd television shows, napping in the afternoon and spending some time catching up on chores.

Getting married, you're bringing another person into that life. And they have their set routines and patterns. Where I might close the evening out with "The Daily Show" or "Conan," Kelly might choose to go to bed by 10:30 or read a book. Where I might be content to wake up and have an early coffee on Saturdays and then spend the afternoon on the couch watching DVDs, she might prefer to sleep in and spend the afternoon doing something active. I like zombie movies; she likes Jane Austen novels--and I've been informed "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies" doesn't count.

The obvious truth is that marriage means we'll both have to acquiesce to another's routines and sacrifice a bit of our independence. It might mean I DVR "Daily Show" or that we alternate our Saturday routines. It might mean that when one of us wants to spend an evening alone in our thoughts but the other needs some affection and attention, we sacrifice our me-time to take care of the other person. I've always been told the first year of marriage is the hardest and I can predict that the simple task of changing your long-established routines and habits to live with another person might be one of the most difficult aspects.

And that's all to be expected and, to be honest, is part of the fun. I'm looking forward to learning to do life with Kelly. One upshot of us only really getting to be together on the weekends is that we've had opportunities to be together just doing life. And sometimes it's frustrating, hectic and stressful as we try to juggle her schoolwork, my family responsibilities and other things into that. And other times, such as this weekend, we have a relaxing time of going out on our own and then spending time together going shopping, cooking dinner and then cuddling on the couch with a movie. That's the fun stuff.

As willing as I am to sacrifice aspects of my independence for the much-greater experience of doing life with Kelly, I also have to admit that I don't want to lose my individuality.

Truth is, I like my zombie movies. I like being a film and television junkie. I like taking an hour or so on a weeknight to blog in solitude or a Friday every few weeks to hang out with my guy friends. Those are things that make me who I am. And when I'm married, I don't want to sacrifice those.

I don't want to enjoy them at the expense of loving Kelly, and I think that's where balance will be an important part of marriage. But I do still want to do the things I love and pursue the interests that I have. They're the things that make me me. And where I can share them with Kelly, I want to do that. But I also know there are certain points where Kelly won't want to share that experience or where it will simply stay my own (I'm fairly certain we won't be watching Dawn of the Dead together any time soon). And I want to know that she'll be okay with that, and that she'll want me to be able to enjoy those things because they were the things that made me who I am; the man who she wants to marry.

And I can safely say that's what I want of her.

I've grown up Baptist and have always had friends around me saying that they never wanted their wives to work. "When I'm married," they'd say, "my wife is going to stay home. Because that's her job."

My position has never been that way...and not just because I've been fairly certain that I wouldn't be in a situation to live on one income. I've always wanted my wife to do what she felt fulfilled doing. If she had a career that she loved and felt that she wanted to work and put her skills to use, I wanted her to do that. Because that is a part of her identity and what makes her the person I fell in love with. I don't want that to change. I want her to go out and do what God has equipped her for and to feel fulfilled at the end of the day. I want to hear stories about her work and her accomplishments, to pray with her after struggles and rejoice with her after on-the-job victories.

And in the same vein, I never want Kelly to lose the things that make her so unique. I never want the individual I fell in love with to disappear. I want her to have time to read Jane Austen novels. I want her to write and pursue the creative projects she loves. I want her to be able to take some time and go on a long walk by herself. Because I want her to come back and tell me the stories, tell me what she did and share those experiences with her.

This weekend, Kelly is going away with some college friends. It will be the first weekend we've been apart in close to a year. It's going to be a weird experience and I'm going to miss her terribly.

But at the same time, I'm happy that we have this weekend. For her, it gives her a chance to travel with friends she rarely sees. She's going to take a trip and come back with pictures, stories and a whole host of new experiences. I can't wait to hear those stories and sit with her over coffee and talk about them.

For me, it means I'll have to spend the weekend alone. And it would be easy to get depressed and feel lonely about that. But at the same time, I realize I'll probably do okay. I'll stack up the DVDs and pizza rolls and engage in a three-day movie marathon. Maybe I'll hang out with some friends. I'll catch up on my reading or writing. And I'll make use of the time to do things I enjoy and then I'll have stories to tell Kelly as well (mine won't be nearly as cool as hers, though). And then the next weekend we'll be back together, spending time together and enjoying each other's company.

I don't know how it's going to work balancing a necessary dependence on each other with a healthy dose of independence. I'm sure it will be tricky at times. I'm sure there will be times where one of us feels suffocated and needs to get out a bit. I'm sure there will be other times where one of us will be doing our own thing and we'll inadvertently neglect the other and we'll have to deal with that. It's going to be messy for a bit, I'm sure. And eventually we'll get a routine together that works for both of us.

But that balance of dependence and independence is so necessary to strike. Because while we both need each other and the strong bond that a married couple has, the truth is we also both fell in love with independent individuals who can teach us, challenge us and show us new experiences.

It's going to be an interesting ride.

--CW