One Vision

It is said that the first year of marriage is the most difficult.

False.

At least that has not proved to be true for us. Year two has been filled with more struggle and growing pains than I think we ever expected. Yes, eight weeks ago we lost our second child. Sure, a week after that our lives changed dramatically with a completely gluten-free lifestyle taking up its permanent residency in our world. Of course, like most young ministers we are attempting to creatively live on one salary while I commute to and from Waco 10 hours a week to be in school full-time.

Yet the difficulty in our relationship has come less from the pain of loss, and frustration of finance, and more from the realization that we are two incredibly different people.

Our fabulous counselor, * we are big believers in the ability a trained, professional listener has to encourage our relationship to be as strong as possible, which is especially important for ministers. I'll talk about counseling often, so if the mention of it makes you uncomfortable and causes you to question your own sanity, you may want to talk with someone about that.* recently had us take a personality assessment called an enneagram, in which a person falls into one of 9 personality types. I sat in total shock as I listened to our counselor describe how, based on our results, my personality type at its worst becomes Ray's personality type and Ray's personality type at its worst becomes mine. Yeah, feel free to read that sentence again.

How?! How have I been married to this man for 21 months and not realized that we are exact opposites? I mean, we get along so well. No hesitation; I'd rather be near this man (in every simple and complex way that means) than any other living, breathing human in existence. We balance each other out. He is gracious when I am quick to criticize. He goes with the flow and I plan out details. He rarely looks past next Sunday and I scheme months in advance. I crave the experience of adventure and He longs for the stability of a hometown. I live a few dream clouds above reality while He naturally abides on the ground of actuality. I prefer the liturgy of high church and He prefers the grassroots simplicity of guitar led worship.

Do we love each other? yes.
Are we friends? the best.
Have we recently woken-up thinking "oh no, who is this person I have forever hitched my wagon to?" without a doubt.

My dreams include multiple scene changes; most of which have mountains as a backdrop. His dreams stay faithfully under this massive Texas sky; hopefully in the same place for 30 years or so. As we become more honest and unravel the depth of our diverse visions for our future, the more difficult, taxing and (let's speak truth) scary the weight and reality of "two becoming one," becomes. How do you submit to each other as equals and deal with the less than flattering discovery that you may actually be more selfish than you ever cared to acknowledge? How do release pieces of your dreams and goals without losing yourself? How do you create and give birth a new vision, a shared vision?

Honestly, we don't know quite yet. But, we do know that this vulnerable growth process (though painful at times) is bringing beautiful, servant-minded, trust-filled, grace-founding life to our "one."