Monday, November 9, 2009

The First Year

Whenever my husband or I tell our story to another couple, we always reminisce about the first year - so far, the hardest year of our marriage.

There wasn't much of a "honeymoon phase" to our marriage. From day one, I had a load of expectations that I dumped on my husband, things that either my dad or other "great men" in my life had done for their wives. When he did the things that I expected him to do, I rarely thanked him (much less threw him a party), because those were the things that he was "supposed" to be doing, right? I remember several conversations that went to the tune of this:

L: "Hey babe, did you notice that I loaded the dishwasher for you?"
Me: "Um, yeah. Did you notice that I loaded it every day for the past eight days?"

I had really poor communication skills, and he wanted to talk about EVERYTHING. I was working full-time, playing more or less the role of the "breadwinner" while he finished his senior year of college. I came from a traditional family; he had stepfamilies and half-brothers. In a group setting, he wants to make sure everybody's having a good time; in a group setting, I want to make sure everybody's doing what they are supposed to be doing.

We spent the three years building up to marriage finding out how similar we were, and the whole first year and a half of marriage finding out how different we were. It was quite a ride.

I wouldn't trade that year for anything. It was the worst year of our marriage, and yet prepared us for everything we've faced since that time. I love that our God knew what we needed, even when it felt like he was against us on all sides.


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