Our Lifetime in Eleven Years

Eleven years ago today, Andy and I forever joined our lives. I loved that day, the details of it and the aspirations that hung, along with the humidity, in the air. I love it still, and I am very much in love with Andy, who stood next to me for the hour long Wedding ceremony that we celebrated together at the Greek Orthodox Church. Ours was the first Orthodox wedding I attended...although someone did give me a video to watch before hand and careful warnings NOT to lock my knees, and also to drink plenty of water, as nothing is sadder than a bride who goes horizontal during the readings. The readings and prayers at our wedding are the same ones at every single Orthodox wedding around the world, and through time. It was not unique, or customized to our personalities. We did not write our vows, nor did we speak a single word during that hour. We shut our mouths, opened our hearts, stood still, listened and prayed. That was, and is, very comforting to me. The fact that we had relatively little to do with the success of that single day gives me great hope for the rest of our days together. Our lives, our marriage are not ultimately in our control...they are in God's hands. When we attend other Orthodox weddings, I still feel the same humility and grace I felt eleven years ago.



Eleven years later; three kids later; 7 cars later; 3 houses and so many sunny and rainy days later, I begin this day in our house trying to sit still, close my mouth and open my heart and remain thankful to God for what He has given us. I have no advice, no wisdom, there is already too much of that in our world. I can acknowledge that ours is not a perfect marriage, but it is the foundation we are laying for our children and the closest thing I have had to a conversation with Our Creator thus far. As our kids grow, I know they will cut their own paths through this world. They will carry certain values and sentiments with them from these years, and shed others in favor of their own hearts' discretion. It is my prayer that we give them an image of a durable marriage, an attainable one. I pray that they can see that sometimes it is necessary to come together, simply to avoid growing apart. And that love and forgiveness set the tempo for our lives.

Running Away

Last night I ran and ran and ran. People who love me know, I am not a runner. They know that the one season I ran cross country in high school, I froze at the only meet I showed up for and walked off the track with shin splints. The shorts were cute, and there were shiny metals, but those were like the sirens on the rocks as I watched the other runners sail by me. See, I didn't have a 7, 5 and 2 year old on my heels back then. No motivation.

Now, I have been so transformed by bearing and loving and worrying about our children that I actually prefer running some nights. Tonight's flight was brought on by an ordinary day. A morning of sorting out a 9 day road trip (laundry, mysterious toys and sticky things on the floor mats of the car); collecting three Nana and Papa starved children from the comfy respite of my parents house; taking my two non-Kinderdance campers to Monkey Joe's and just witnessing little people grow into bigger, more evolved versions of themselves. I didn't lose my patience, I picked my battles, I remembered to slow down. Still, at the end of the day, when I found my sweet husband at the car dealer (Oh, yes. We had to retrieve him from the dealer where his car gearing up for its mid-life crisis) his quick sizing up of me said it all. My "crazy momma look" reflected back into his eyes, where I was greeted with a concerned, "Have they been OK today?" Well, sure. Yes, they have. Sometimes I can just find things to get wound up about on an absolutely ordinary day, in fact.