God meant 20 years to make us holy, and happiness is just a bonus, not a guarantee :)

Dave and I celebrated 20 years together, I weaned the baby, and the rest of the family said goodbye to leaving-the-house Hannah and I all on the same day. It was a day for grace.

The kids brought us breakfast in the guesthouse outside, coffee cake made especially for us, tea and coffee just the way we like it. It felt different, knowing I would get on a plane with Hannah and fly far away from this man that afternoon...wave goodbye to everyone, even the still-nursing 15-month-old who we decided would be better off with daddy than traveling the world in six short days.

I'm not good at goodbyes. I have said so many in my life, and my life-long strategy has been to think of the next happy thing. I'm sad, but I try and make myself feel better. I hate being sad. It doesn't feel good. I hate my children being sad. I don't think I know how to be sad for long enough without being sad for too long.

Those last days with Hannah were like a dream...I kept looking at her, at the way her hair blew in the breeze, at the way her eyes shone when she was happy, and I kept wondering how 18 years could go by so fast. I know they do....people always tell you that they do....but to actually arrive at the day when I had to let her go was hard to imagine. It didn't feel like a gradual letting go, gap year or not. It felt like a grasping for last moments and days. I'm still trying to get my head around it. And speak truth to my heart:

This girl was never yours. None of them are. They are pure gift, and now you get to give one back.

You thought while you were with her that you could protect or provide for her, but her Father is the One who has been doing that all along. Now you both get to see Him do that even more.

God, in His sweet and infinite wisdom, has other people and experiences and plans for her that He is unfolding before her. I would never want her to miss out on any of them.

So, after serious reflection, I let it sink down deep: all of this is blessing. He reminds me of how I want to be that Proverbs 31 woman who “laughs at the future.” This is one of those times that I'm sure that lady had some choosing to do: to laugh, or to gnash and wail and ask that it wouldn't be so. I will choose laughter, and joy.  

Joy: a choice, but not an option. Always a choice, always necessary, sometimes more of a battle than other times. “As for me, I will always have hope. I will praise you more and more.” Psalm 71:14

And Hannah, God has done such a great work in you. We could not be more grateful that He gave you to us as a daughter and friend!  You are such a treasure.

Last night Kate and I were making dinner and singing. I said, “that song makes me sad.” She said, “It makes me sad, too, and I don't know why, but it makes me think about Hannah not being here.” My thoughts exactly. You are always close in our thoughts and hearts.

So, not bemoaning the fact, but choosing with hope to see: this is the beginning of a new phase, one where we are excited when we're all together! Because that is what will be unique, not the usual. And even as we say goodbye to one, we see the lineup already marking out each two or three years ahead, praying for grace. As Dave reminds me when I am downhearted: this is what they were made for! They were not made to live with us until they are 30. :) Not that he doesn't grieve, but not the same way.

As a matter of fact, while I'm on that subject, do men and women do anything the same? I am amazed at God's design to put two such different genders together.

The mission psychologist walked in the room, plopped our personality tests down and declared, “Well, it's true: opposites DO attract.”

Surely you see this all the time, I say. Not to this extreme, he responds, and not when they still like eachother so much.

It's true: we are almost completely opposite, not just on the test, but in real life. Maybe twenty years together has made us even more so. He says my drug of choice is people. I can hardly hear him say it over the clattering of the party that I've invited. :) I like spontanaity. He likes to hold down a job. He plans, he saves, he purposes, he is faithful as the rising sun when it comes to a commitment, so he isn't quick to commit. He actually thinks things through before saying yes. I think about it two weeks after the yes when I realize what it actually means for me. I love change. Moving houses is my idea of fun, along with having another baby or moving to Africa. 12 years in one spot was just what I needed to deal with my lack of contentment. Of course, we did have five babies and move three times in those years, but even still....

I think it would be fun to live near the beach and ride vespas together and eat icecream and meet people (of course). This worries him.

My idea of a good time is staying up late until the babies are naughty and we're all falling apart because we had no self-control. He actually likes getting people to bed on time and making sure we stay sane.

It took me about fifteen years to figure out that 1. He wasn't going to wake up one day and realize my way was better, like I had always thought he would (wouldn't anybody?!). 2. I might not be a very suitable helper to my man while I sat around waiting for such an occurrence to happen.

I had a very specific picture in my head of what I wanted our family to look like, and I actually made it more important than dying to myself and my desires and letting God decide what our family should look like.

And come to find out, it really isn't all that fun to keep everybody up until they're all falling apart. It is actually nice to put people to bed on time and have a sense of order in our lives, no thanks to me. :)

And what the man said at the end is true too: we do like eachother an awful lot. There is a lot of laughter that happens in our home. We crack eachother up. I hope we're growing into that old couple with a thousand private jokes and permanent laugh wrinkles. We're on our way, not that the way isn't punctuated with lots of “growth sessions” and hair pulling.

Recently, we were able to go snorkeling in the Indian Ocean. Chugging out in the glass bottom boat, we could see some of the fish through the glass. Sunshine reflected on beautiful, spilling waves, and salty breeze blew.

I sat on the boat, thinking about the cold of the sea, the mask filling with water, the cumbersome flippers...I almost thought I didn't need to see down below. And anyways, I could see the fish gathering at the bread in the water. It was beautiful up above.

Thankfully, I made myself jump in and get a glimpse underneath the water. The second I went under, it was a different world. Bright fish darted in and out of stunning coral. The sounds were all muted by the quiet of being under the water. I held Dave's hand and swam along, reaching out to feel with my other hand. I was in awe over the variety and beauty of the fish, each with a unique and spectacular design.

Marriage has been just such an experience. Of course it is easier to not have true intimacy. Of course it feels more comfortable not to expose your desires, your body, your soul to another human being, and one so different than yourself. Of course it's easier to cover sin than to confess, repent, bare all. It's easier, but then we miss out. We miss out on the depths of intimacy and oneness that are waiting. We miss God's design for our holiness and transformation that comes through the melding of our life to our beloved's. We may miss laying in bed with a kicking baby belly in between us. :)

And when we do risk all, we marvel that we thought that easier was better.

"A heavyweight boxing champion who dodges all serious contenders to consistently fight marshmallows is derided and ridiculed--and rightly so.  Christians who dodge all serious struggle and consciously seek to put themselves in whatever situations and relationships are easiest are doing the same thing--they are coasting, and eventually that coasting will define them and--even worse--shape them." --Gary Thomas, Sacred Marriage

If you have had it with your marriage, there is always hope.  As long as there is breath in your lungs, there is hope.  Our God, He's making all things new.  Nothing is impossible for Him!  If you do nothing else, fight this battle for your marriage!  You don't have to save the world or live in a mud hut or sacrifice your body to the flames.  All you have to do is love this one person.  Sometimes it feels a lot easier to save the world.  But this is your battle; this is where you show who you really are!  Actually, this is where you get to see who God really is.  He is ready to show Himself strong on your behalf.