Not this dew…
Or this Dew…
I mean this do…[I do.]
Look at those kids. So in love.
This past June I attended a Catholic wedding. The Priest started by thanking us for joining together with our friends as they partook in the Holy Sacrament of Matrimony. I never got down with the whole Catholic scene so this wordy phrase peeked my interest. Why didn’t he just say marriage?
At this point in the game I’ve attended my fair share of weddings, some of them Catholic. This time I was paying attention though. Normally I’m half listening, half in my own thoughts staring at a stained glass window of Jesus. It quite possibly could have been the glare from the shiny gold plated bible that the Priest held that captured my attention. But either way – I needed to know more. I needed to know why this statement was used.
Somewhere along the timeline of my life I have heard about Catholic sacraments but never understood them largely in part because I’m not Catholic. My husband, growing up in the Catholic church, loosely explained the concept and my Mother-in-law filled in the details.
Google helped as well.
"The Latin word sacramentum means "a sign of the sacred."
So when our Catholic friends complete a Sacrament, what they are doing is an outward action that is sacred. Do you know what sacred means? Go ahead, look it up. Or you can trust me because I just looked it up. It means [connected with God.] Folks this act of marriage is serious business. This stuff ain’t no joke.
Whatever your belief is, marriage is truly a special thing. What married couples do months and years after this ceremony is, well a whole nother thing. Can I just say Ashley Madison. Not sacred.
I was recently sharing a little story from my past to site an example of the difference between dating and happily ever after. The great evolution of marriage.
As the tale goes: young ChaVo and Matthew, fully twitterpated with one another visited the Target down the street from Matthew’s house (now our house.)
If you are’t familiar with the term [twitterpated] it’s in the same category as puppy love and can be fully understood by watching Disney’s classic, Bambi. Basically you gross people out.
No you hang up.
No you hang up.
Ok we’ll do it together on 3.
1 – 2 – 3.
Awww you’re still there!
We live just five quick minutes from Target. It’s everything a girl dreams of when she thinks about moving in with her husband.
Our Target, however, boarders the Detroit city limit. As I’m sure any of you familiar with Detroit can imagine, it pulls in an interesting crowd.
I bet you don’t have a security guard to greet you when you walk into the Target by your house.
Upon exiting the store we saw a police car speed around the corner towards the main entrance. A police officer jumped out in hot pursuit of a teenage boy. They weren’t playing tag. Somebody had sticky fingers and instead of paying for his items, like we did, the kid put’em in his pants for free.
What a concept! I’ve never tried this but I’ll bet it saves a lot of money.
Face kissing the asphalt, underneath the firm knee of a police officer, I heard this teen yell for his Momma. That’s the last person you should yell for when you get in trouble like this. My Mom would have given me the beating of a lifetime had I called her under similar circumstances.
As we got in the car Matthew affectionately turned towards me and warned me to never go to this Target without him. God forbid something happen to me.
Flash forward to present day as we quickly approach our eighth year together.
“I’m running to Target, do you want to come?”
He replies hesitantly, “do you need me to?”
My bodyguard is apparently off duty for Target errands these days. If he does come, it’s to ensure I don’t spend to much money. Eeeekkkk! My credit card loves Target.
This excitement, this jubilation of twitterpated-ness is a temporary high. When we are falling in love our brain is releasing all kinds of feel good chemicals and basically over time our body builds up a tolerance to them. Once the twitterpatted phase ends you enter the meat and potatoes of the relationship.
Mmmmmm I love meat and potatoes. Especially if there from Outback Steakhouse. “No rules. Just right.”
I’ve heard married couples say that they wish they could just go back to the high of when they were first dating their spouse.
I look at them and smile but inside I’m thinking – what kind of stupid request is that?
Let me get this straight. You date wanting to get married and then you get married and want to go back to dating? I’m confused.
Who wants to be nervous every time they see their spouse. Stomach all in knots. How’s a girl supposed to enjoy a piece of pizza feeling like that.
I get what they mean. You’re so excited in those first days of dating. All the getting to know each other and discovery. I just heard my husband in the kitchen singing a line from the [Little Mermaid] so trust me when I say I’m still getting to know my husband.
If we could stop fantasizing and get back to reality that’d be really great. This isn’t a Rom-Com where Jennifer Aniston is the leading lady. This is real life. You are the leading character! So why are we setting unrealistic expectations in our heads instead of having honest conversations with our spouses?
My husband has seen me cry my makeup off and become furious over our infertility. When he draws me close and whispers in my ear that our time is coming – that’s romantic. That’s love.
Just this morning my husband made me laugh hysterically in the bathroom when he gagged and told me my morning breath was so bad it had to be from yesterday. This IS NOT romantic but it’s love.
You choose each other in the beginning but you have to continue to choose each other for everyday after. Marriage eventually changes out of a white gown to overalls and a hard hat because it’s hard work and in our society hard work is work and work isn’t fun. The mentality is let’s ditch this and go find something fun.
When Matthew and I were engaged we took a pre-marital class. We watched a video based on scripture found in Ephesians.
Husbands love your wife as yourself, and wives must respect her husband. Ephesians 5:33
What Paul is saying in this verse is that when men don’t show proper love to their wives, wives get lippy and disrespectful. When wives are rude and snotty because they don’t feel loved they jump on the merry-go-round called, “The Crazy Cycle.”
God makes it really simple for us. Stick to the blueprint people.
I don’t know much about marriage but this, I know. I’ve taken a few spins on the cycle and it’s rotten. If you’ve ever ridden on this carousel you don’t want to stay on long.
Every part of our life is a season. A chapter in a very large volume of books. This helps me deal with the ups and downs of life and avoid riding The Crazy Cycle. This and when I’m acting crazy and the Holy Spirit calls me out – I try to get a sincere apology over to Matthew stat!
Husbands love your wives. Tell them how special they are. Truly listen when we are upset. We don’t need a strategy, we need your attentive ear. Bring tissues. We might cry. We don’t mean to make you uncomfortable when we cry that’s just what we do. Take the kids in the morning so Mommy’s can get some rest. When we reach for an extra piece of cake don’t remind us we said we felt fat earlier. Give us sweet touches and kind words throughout the day and see how that pays off at night. Wink, wink! We don’t need roses we need your attention.
Ladies be respectful. Don’t use your tears to manipulate your hubby. Lose the silent treatment. Don’t use your words to tear him apart. Use your words to compliment who he is. You married him because deep down he’s a good man no matter how many times he leaves the toilet seat up. Treat him like the knight and shining armor your dreaming of and see how he rises to the occasion. You are the only women who can truly make him feel needed and honored.
Oh and pray that God gives you the strength not to kill each other. Amen!
I am no expert on this matter but I really love my husband. Not everyday is a trip to Target but we try really hard to remind each other when we said [I do] we meant it.
When the crappy days come I try to remember….