7 Thoughts of a Woman During a Marital Fight

Sometimes you fight in marriage {or life}.  There are some things that you just never ever think, say, or do in the heat of the battle- despite what romantic comedies, Pinterest, or any other romantic notion you had as a 17-year-old girl tells you. BUT there are also things that you typically always think, say, or do in the midst of the battle.

For women, those two extreme reactions often happen back to back.  In the same fight.

So to close out the Love Month, here’s a chronologically- ordered tribute to fighting with your spouse.

1. Do NOT even THINK about kissing me right now.

All those scenes in movies where a couple decides to forget everything they are intensely arguing about and suddenly start showing copious amounts of affection is FALSE.  I’m pretty sure I’ve literally thought: “I would be so mad if he tried to kiss me right now. Clearly the screen writers of those scenes have NEVER been in a serious relationship.”

3.7 seconds later…

2. All I want is a HUG right now. Why won’t he just hug me?

Forget about the fact that my previous point was do not even think about kissing me- I don’t understand why it’s so confusing that sometimes I just need a hug? Clearly the look on my face is screaming “I need physical touch- but only in this very specific and exact way!”

4.2 seconds later…

3.  How can he joke at a time like this? Does he not know we are in the middle of a FIGHT?

There is absolutely nothing funny enough to deserve a smile right now, much less a laugh. I guess that shows how trivial this is to him.  So now we’re just fighting for laughs…. I see how it is. ….  Actually… what are we fighting about again? Shoot. I can’t let him know that I forgot why I’m mad.

2.6 seconds later…

4. Why won’t he laugh at my joke? Does he not know that I’m trying to lighten the mood?

Goodness, he’s certainly in a very dark place right now. He can’t even smile.  I guess me poking fun wasn’t what he wanted to hear {never mind it was at him}.  Last time we fought, he said he tries to make jokes to lighten the mood. But when I do it, it just worsens the mood.  He needs to make up his mind!

7.9 seconds later….

5. I just want him to understand what I’m really saying.

Let’s be real, if he actually understood me, he would agree with me. How can you hear my arguments and not see the validity in my points? He clearly isn’t listening.  Maybe I should repeat myself again- to the 10^th power.

Literally 1 second later…

6. Is he pacifying me?
I don’t want him to just agree with me! Why won’t he tell me what he’s really thinking? He knows he can disagree with me and that I value his opinion.

And then to finish the fight…

7. Why doesn’t he apologize? I just said nothing was wrong!!!

I really don’t understand why men think women are that complicated… 

He is NOT a threat.

Women pulled their purses tighter when he walked by. 

At 2:30 in the afternoon.  

In a popular department store.

My husband evidently was viewed as threatening. 

The mere thought that the man who loves me, protects me, honors me, and cares for me, was being perceived as potentially dangerous would be laughable if it wasn’t actually thought. Actually considered. Actually believed.

The women had no basis for this belief for he neither said anything nor did anything to them or around them.

He simply walked by them as he shopped for clothes. 

He, the man whom I have seen help total strangers time and time again, simply walked by them.

He, my black husband, simply walked by them.

I know it’s a seemingly small and subtle form of racism that is not newsworthy but this one hit home for me. The absurdity of such a bogus reaction simply because he has a beautifully dark skin tone was hurtful.  As he told me the story, there was no anger in his voice or disgust in his temperament- it was more incredulous. He was dumbfounded that it happened.  He almost found it interesting, initially. Almost. Until it kept happening.

As I heard the story, I, on the other hand went from incredulousness, to anger, to frustration, to despair, to bewilderment and back to anger again. In about 1.78 seconds.

It’s been a little while now since it happened, and I still experience all those emotions every time I think about it. I think I’ve landed in heartache, however.  There’s something especially painful at having the person you love and respect more than any other, be so horrifically misjudged.  I wish I could believe that 2016 will be the year of no racism. No microagressions. No hatred. No subtle prejudice or blatant bias.

But the reality is that we aren’t there yet. Our country, our state, our city simply isn’t there yet.  Your state, your city simply isn’t there yet.  To deny that there is still racism is to only add to the problem. To deny that there isn’t racism within the church is to only break the heart of God. To deny that there isn’t bias within my own heart is to only help the dividedness instead of the healing.

You see friends, as much as I wanted to give those women a piece of my mind, I was rebuked in my spirit. God reminded me that I too am guilty of prejudice. Of horribly misinformed stereotypes. Of bias. They might look different than clutching my purse as a black man walks by, but they are just as serious and just as wrong.

I know I’m not alone.

Maybe you judged someone who wore a Muslim dress. Maybe the Indian woman in her sari. Maybe the white man with sagging jeans. Maybe the Asian woman who didn’t speak English fluently.  Maybe the Taco Bell employee. The Target cashier. The anorexic girl. The heavyset boy.

Should I continue?

I’d ask for you to consider doing two things.  Two things that I have been doing myself. If we all committed to these two things, we would see our city start to change.  Then our state. Then our country.

1) Ask God to show us our own areas of bias and racism.

Spend time asking for His forgiveness and grace to change.

2) Start speaking truth.  

Start telling your friend who makes the racists jokes that they aren’t funny.

Start explaining to your parents why you disagree with their view of people with a different ethnic background.

Start reminding your siblings that the person they are making fun of was created in the image of God and they have no place to mock that.

Start engaging your coworkers in conversations about the beauty in diversity.

Start researching the subjects you don’t understand so that you can speak truth instead of fiction.

As much as I wish I could, I can’t change the women’s minds in the store that day. But I can let God change me. And that’s enough to change the world.

Newlywed Season OVER!

That’s right… our newlywed season is officially in the past! We are 1 day into the “rest of our marriage” which means it’s time for my semi-annual marriage post. Lessons learned from my marriage. #round2 #2ndanniversary

You might remember some previous ones. I’ve heard from quite a few of you that it has forever changed your approach to loading the silverware in the dishwasher.  (Aaron still holds that over my head.) I was also reminded just this weekend how vital it is to never leave hints. Always be blunt. As blunt as possible. Everytime.

As I’ve been reflecting on marriage and the lessons learned now that we’re ending the “newlywed” phase, there are some new lessons that are taking priority right now.

1. Compromise saves marriages... probably even the world #likeforreal

• If you do not want to learn every possible way to roll your eyes at your spouse for breaking into song every 1.5 minutes on a 9 hour road trip, compromise.
• If you want to spend your tax-return money on Coach purses, and he wants to spend it on a 1,000 inch television, compromise.
• If you want to lay in bed and watch hours of movies with his shoulder as your pillow, and his shirt as your Kleenex, compromise.
• If you’re not sure that you want your in-laws to live with you 11.75 months out of the year, compromise.

Are you getting the point?

Compromise is not something I like to do. I like to have my way. All. The. Time. But, I’m learning compromise makes life more enjoyable and less stressful in the long-run.

Here’s some of the areas we’ve learned to compromise in …

Aaron likes to burst into song… loudly (some might even say obnoxiously) So the compromise is that he gets to sing his heart out for one/two/three songs, and then I at some point get to chime in and say “That’s it! Sing it inside!”  Which he then finishes the song in his head, complete with hand motions, choreography, and facial expressions… but no noise.

When I get in the mood to be lazy, he knows I’m going to basically be worthless for a lot of hours. And it’s typically at the same time that he’s in the mood to “be productive”. So, I’m learning to “be productive” for one or two projects…and then go in a different room and be lazy guilt-free, but without him, while he can continue scurrying around accomplishing all sorts of goals and achievements.

Don’t misunderstand me, there are some things to never compromise. Don’t compromise on your values and morals. Compromise on the daily tasks, the quirky habits, the eccentric tendencies that can drive the other person nuts. 

But discuss your values. Talk about your morals.

Compromise on preferences not on sin.

2. Accept the reality that your spouse is not the leading role in a chick-flick. #dropmyexpectations #ain’tnobodyflawless

  ·         Aaron does not read my mind.

  ·         Aaron does not wake up with good breath.

  ·         Aaron does not stare into my eyes for hours on end getting lost in their “unfathomable depths.”

         Who has time for that?!

Similarly…

·         I do not read Aaron’s mind.

·         I do not wake up with good breath. Or good hair.

·        I do not have perfect hair, make-up, & accessories every time we go out

        Who has time for that?!

The truth is it’s easy to convince yourself that “he should know __________ !” when in all reality, unless he’s watch 897 chick-flicks and been able to string together which ones you personally identify, he would have absolutely no idea that when you say you don’t like getting flowers, you mean that 99.8% of the time, but that .2% when you do is for the situation that you are going through RIGHT NOW, which obviously calls for flowers!!!!

My life will never look like a romantic comedy. Some days might slightly echo it. But most days it’s far too “real” for that.  So instead, let me learn to celebrate my man’s strengths and see the godliness reflected in his character. Let me embrace the reality of living forever with someone and all the fights, silliness, scars, ups and downs that come with that.

3. Live by these words: Never get a puppy.  Just Kidding! #notreally #justsayno

Actually…

4. Live by these words… Most important of all, continue to show deep love for each other, for love covers a multitude of sins. {1 Peter 4:8} #onlywaytosurvive #lovecovers

When he’s wronged me. {Love} It covers the sin.

When I’ve wronged him. {Love} It covers the sin.

When we’ve both been wrong. {Love} It covers the sin.

I’m going to be honest. Some days I’m awful at this. I hold onto the sin. I bring up the failure. I carry the grudge.

And all it does is create deeper wounds. Bigger scars. Harsher fights.

But when I allow love to cover the sin- it envelopes the offense so that I can look through a lens of healing instead bitterness.

Yes, there’s still hurt. There’s still a wound. There might even be stitches.

{But it heals.}

 It doesn’t fester. It doesn’t get worse. It doesn’t spread.

{It’s restored.}

To my surprise, I’m realizing that the lessons learned in marriage are actually beneficial to my other relationships. #shocker  This stuff isn’t just for my marriage. It’s for my sister. My brothers. My parents. My friends. My co-workers. My staff.

Am I living and loving well?

1 John 4:19 We love each other because God loved us first.

Life in 288 square feet.

 Life in 288 square feet.

My husband, puppy Oreo, and I are in “transition” which is code for the fact that 3 of us, 2 people and a puppy, are sharing a bedroom and a bathroom with a grand total of less than 300 square feet. Not surprisingly, the puppy seems to be thrilled! She’s never had this much constant access to us before. Well, we’ve actually never had this much constant access to each other before either!

Earlier this summer, we watched one of those HGTV shows that highlighted a couple deciding to move into a “tiny house.” We thought they were crazy.  And yet here we are. Not quite a house but just as tiny. I’ve learned some valuable lessons in this tiny space, some that will probably stay with me a while.

1. No matter how much you “puppy proof” a room, you’ll always miss something. And they will always locate it. And then devour it. And then spit it out. And then look at you with that cute but guilty and devilish look as you clean it up.
2. Packing while in a large house for a tiny space isn’t effective. You really aren’t in the zone. Like at all. Although it made sense at the time to have a different bag for every type of item or clothing, now you’re living with stacks of suitcases surrounding falling onto you.  Why did I think it was a good idea to have a bag just for t-shirts?  Why do I even have enough t-shirts to fill a bag??
3. Zig Ziglar was right when he said “Your attitude, not your aptitude, will determine your altitude.”  But he failed to mention that it will not determine the size of your living area. 

In this temporary place, I’m constantly noticing that our life is transitioning. To new places, new normals, new routines. But before we get to experience all those exciting outcomes, however, I’m learning that I must first be reminded of the reality of life. The reality of relationships. The reality of faith. Only then do I really appreciate the new life.

So, today I thanked God for the chance to be here. Yes, here, in this 288 square feet room with questions swirling, a puppy panting, and a husband studying. 

Because here tells me that God cares.  He cares so much more….

• More about my character than my happiness.
• More about teaching me what’s actually important in my life than providing me with all of life’s walk-in closets and double vanities.
• More about appreciating that my husband is leading us to walk in faith and not comfort. 
• More about understanding that God is faithful to provide. Always.
• More about learning that God’s provision are best for me even if they don’t align to exactly what I ask and when I ask for it.

So, with that in mind, I’m trying to appreciate the here. One day, when we’re there, I’ll be reminded of how grateful I was for the lessons in the here.

In the meantime, I have to go find out what my puppy just did. She has that “look” again.  Excuse my chanting…. They do say repetition leads to retention after all….

Be grateful for the here... Be grateful for the here… Be grateful for the here… Be grateful for the here…  

Ginger | Black

Ginger | Black.

I’m sure many of you are familiar with ginger jokes… the “belief”, that I, a red-head, actually have no soul due to the color of my hair?  If that’s your first time hearing the jokes, lucky for you! But yes, there’s a wide-range of jokes I have heard about that. It became a popular term and joke though a tv show back around ten years ago.

When having an honest conversation with anyone, I can’t believe that someone would actually argue that I have no soul due to the color of my hair.  And if that person does exist, they have enough other problems, so this debate isn’t worth having with them.

We can all agree that ginger jokes- although possibly funny- are completely ridiculous. My hair is simply the accessory to my scalp- it has no bearing on my worth (or my soul).

So then, why do so many believe that the shade of a person’s skin… a genetic characteristic, just like hair color, determines their worth, their intelligence, or their behavior?

Racism and the effects of it will be a forever part of our family.

Because you see, for those who don’t know, Aaron is African-American, and I am as pale of Caucasian as they come (and a ginger).  Our children will one day deal with being bi-racial and most-likely looking different than many of their friends. As much as we hope and believe that our children will be living in a time where skin differences are normal and beautiful, we are not naïve to think it will be accepted anywhere and everywhere God might take us.

Please allow me, a freckle-faced ginger, to walk you through my life of learning to live not color-blindly, but colorfully. I don’t want to miss out on the beauty of God’s rainbow of races, I want to learn to appreciate and enjoy the beauty that each race brings to this world.

2 ½ years ago I started dating my now husband.  Aaron is the most hard-working, noble, loyal, honorable man I know. To say I got quite the catch is an understatement… but that’s been mentioned on this blog before! In one of our pre-marital counseling sessions, we were talking about our family backgrounds and heritages, and then we crossed over to the subject of our races. I remember the counselor asking us a question that shed light on the different way Aaron and I viewed this element of our relationship. When asked how I would deal with someone who had an issue with an inter-racial couple, I remember saying something more tactful but basically “Well, they can deal with it.”

Aaron was then asked the same question, and as usual, his wisdom far surpassed mine. He replied, “Holly should never question how proud I am to be with her, but I am also aware that in some places, with some people, it is necessary to be extremely cautious and aware of our surroundings.”

Then adding, “We are blessed to be living in an area where inter-racial couples are widely seen and accepted, but I’m very much aware that in some towns, the opposite is true.”

The counselor then looked at me and lovingly but firmly said, “Holly- you need to take a lesson from your fiancé.  Your mindset could cause unnecessary heartache one day if you don’t learn to use discernment in this area. Yes, you and Aaron should be proud of each other, and use your inter-racial relationship as a way to further show the world a testimony of God’s love and equality, but not everyone in the world knows, believes, or chooses to accept truth. You must walk in wisdom, not naïve foolishness.”

His words have stayed with me. But my journey in this area continued…

I remember later on in our engagement watching the musical Memphis which is a love-story between a Caucasian man and African-American woman set in the 1950’s. Eventually, they break-up because of the pressures of the color-minded world wreaking havoc in their lives. I remember tears falling down my cheeks as I realized that if I had lived a mere 60 years ago, my marriage to Aaron would still be illegal in some states.

And that stayed with me. But my journey in this area continued…

Over Thanksgiving, we had the opportunity to go to NYC, and while there we watched the play “Cinderella” on Broadway. This Cinderella was the first-ever African American lead.  As we walked into the theater, I was surrounded by little girls of all different races, and it began to occur to me that they were seeing themselves as a princess on a stage…perhaps for the first time.

As the show began, I thought, this is awesome, but surely they could have still related with a white princess on stage. And in one sense, they could… Just as  I had related with Pocahontas’ and Mulan’s strong personalities, regardless of their Indian and Asian races.

But not until we were back in Houston, and we were talking about the show, did I stop and remember the first time I saw a girl with freckles in a magazine.  Not a few perfect freckles that were obviously photo-shopped on her nose, but freckles that actually covered her face. Just. Like. mine.

And I remember what that felt like: To finally see someone who looked like me, and who was considered beautiful on a universal scale… there aren’t words to describe what springs up in a young woman or little girl’s heart. 

There is something special about the confidence that creeps into your soul when you discover that there is a place for your kind of beauty in this world.

I realized that I had been given a glimpse of the excitement that a woman just like me, but African American instead of Caucasian, must have held while witnessing a black Cinderella on Broadway.  For now, when she told her daughter that her skin color is princess-worthy, there was another voice to back that up.

And that stayed with me. But my journey in this area continued…

All these thoughts and beliefs finally came together with a powerfully bright, light-bulb moment … after I had the chance to go to Africa last month.

While there, I was given the opportunity to work with a table of African women as they made jewelry for a week. On the first day there, these beautiful ladies asked me questions about America and Americans. And then, as I discovered, African women are no different than American women because they started talking about men!  At one point, one of the younger, more out-going women, asked me… “So what are white men like?” I laughed and asked what she meant… when I realized she meant in terms of a relationship, I told her, “Girl, I don’t know…I’m married to a black man!” The shock on her face was priceless and hilarious. She then translated that to the rest of the table, and they all burst into frantic, shocked, and excited conversations. I pulled my phone out to show a picture and “prove” it to them, and as they passed around the phone, they literally, burst into smiles and started CLAPPING. Yes. Clapping. I laughed so hard in the moment and throughout the week as it came back up. It was amusing to me to see the excitement my marriage caused!

When I came home and saw the racial tension consuming American news, and my own Facebook feeds, however, I became conscious that the simple truth of my inter-racial marriage had created a bond for me with those African women that I never could have forged on my own.  I realized with a sobering reality that in their world, equality was still being fought for. Maybe not legally, but certainly socially. What was, for me, a temporary news story, and a week of Facebook newsfeeds, was their everyday life. And although America is much more progressive in this subject than my friends’ home in Kibera, Africa, America still has a long way to go as well.

I began to understand why my love for my husband and his love for me resonated with my African sisters in a way that my words would never be able to. Our house has chosen to be Black & White. Not Black VS White.  Those beautiful African women were every bit my sisters in Christ as my beautiful white sisters. They are every bit equal to me in worth, significance, and intelligence.  But they have been told otherwise for so long that a white woman’s marriage to a black man was still a shock. Yet, it was also a stake of hope. Hope that the rest of the world will see colors of skin a thing to be celebrated and valued instead of judged and hated.

So my friends, my African sisters will always stay in my heart, for a multitude of reasons. But my journey in this area will still continue…

And now, when I see the news stories, and read the Facebook comments, I find myself asking…

I can’t help but wonder how much God hurts when…

He sees His children blatantly ignoring Romans 12:10- Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor.

When I assume the best or the worst of a person because as something as shallow and literally outwardly as their skin color, how am I showing her honor?

I can’t help but wonder how much God hurts when…

We tell little white girls or little black girls that verses like Psalm 139:13-14 are written for them…

You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body
    and knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!
    Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it.

We say to live freely knowing that God created them in their mom’s tummy and hand-picked each of their characteristics… that they are beautiful and perfect in God’s eyes. Yet as they are in our homes, we also teach our little girls that Asian, Arab, and Indian girls are less intelligent…less worthy… or less beautiful than they are. Maybe we don’t say that in direct ways, but in our indirect conversations about “them” or “those people”… or perhaps our complaints about “that culture”.

I can’t help but wonder how much God hurts when…

We read Peter’s words to us in Acts 10:34-35 “…Truly I understand that God shows no partiality, 35 but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him,” and yet we assume that no partiality means not caring if someone’s hair is purple and pink instead of blonde or brunette. We have come to believe that doing what is right in the eyes of God is publicly denouncing races or cultures because of the behavior of one man or woman. How do we place the entire race of God’s people at a lesser value and think that we are being found acceptable in the eyes of the Creator of that entire race we just condemned?

Maybe for you the battle isn’t Black vs. White. Maybe it’s Black vs. Asian. Maybe Indian vs. White. Maybe Middle Eastern vs. White.  Maybe Northerners vs. Southerners.

Whatever it might be….please reconsider your words. Your actions. Your thoughts because the colorful life is a much more joyful place to be than the color-less or colorblind one.  Celebrating our differences brings greater happiness than condemning them.

Pinterest De-pinned.

Every woman I know has a love-hate relationship with Pinterest. Why? Because you love all the amazing ideas you find…. Like Reese’s Chocolate Pie… or Caramel stuffed Apples with ice cream on top….

But you hate it for the complete and total level of impossibility that lies within it’s scrolling borders.

You think that Ryan Gosling actually counted you twice?

So I present to you: Pinterest De-Pinned. 
 As I stumble upon what I believe to be completely ludicrous pins, I will do my best to de-pin them from your Pinterest boards. And minds everywhere.

Today I want to start with this gem:

This is completely false.  We’re talking 1,000% false.   How do I know? I’m a woman!!!!

(If that’s not good enough for you, we’ve got a whole different issue to work on!)

Now don’t get me wrong, the only man that matters to me is my husband, and in that one sense the board is true. BUT- I haven’t always been married. And even as a married woman, words can still affect me.

If this pinned statement were true:

• Then the number of affairs would be drastically LESS.  How many women have strayed because a man other than her husband started complimenting her?  Her hearing the words led to her believing the words which led to her thinking about the words… and on and on it goes….
• Then the number of bad relationships would be drastically LESS.   How many girls have dated the wrong guy| the bad guy|the abusive guy because it started with compliments like “You are so beautiful…” ?

Words impact. To say that impact is profound is accurate. To say life-long is no exaggeration.  To say it affects us is truth.

So brothers, fathers, cousins, friends, with all that I have in me, 
I beg you: Consider your words carefully. 
Consider the woman receiving your compliments even more so.

To the fathers and brothers:

Do your job.  Love your girl. Praise her. Let her know that she has a beauty that is pronounced and noticeable. Give her the compliments that other men should not be. Or not yet at least.  Let her know that her shape is lovely and her face is gorgeous.  If those words intimidate you, practice on your wife. She’ll love you for it.

To the male friends of girls:

Do YOUR job.  Watch your words.  Your job is to build up your friend as a sister… But that is still a different relationship than a biological sibling. Because you are not related to her, your words carry a different weight. Continual deep compliments will not help your friendship; it will only complicate it for you both.

Although it doesn’t seem like a big deal, it is. Because at some point, your compliments will lead to thoughts which lead to questions…. And then eventually you will like her or she will like you. And it will get awkward or worse… one of you will be hurt.

So please, encourage, and yes, even compliment her- but within appropriate boundaries and using appropriate words. She needs to know she’s valued but she shouldn’t feel pursued when you’re not actually giving chase.

To women:

We must guard our hearts and our minds. Yes, we’ve heard that. But for many of us, we haven’t lived it.

When the wrong guy is saying all the right things, you must learn to forget the compliment and leave the guy. 

Here’s the last point I have to make before I close. And this one is so passionately part of me, that I wish I could have started with it. Men- this also means the reverse is true.

All the times you tell her she isn’t beautiful-
that hurts twice as deep.

You have probably never said those words: “You’re not beautiful.” But you’ve possibly said it in other ways:

“You certainly got a butt on you!”

“Your thighs are like tree trunks!”

 “You’ve put on weight since last time I saw you!”

“No guy would ever want to date you….. I’m just playin, just playin!”

Or maybe you know better than to joke like that, but maybe you don’t know that it’s equally hard to hear men|boys|friends talk about how beautiful OTHER girls are. Or celebrities that are literally impossible (apart from plastic surgery, Photoshop, and private trainers) to look like.

Husbands|Fathers: Know that for you, this quote is true. When she knows you find her beautiful, she is a woman on top of the world.

Girls: 

You are Beautiful. You don’t need a million men to tell you that. Your heavenly Father already has. And the man you will marry will remind you of that… for the rest of your life.