Brie Gowen

Savor the Essence of Life

What Marriage is Not

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“Can you do me a huge favor?” My husband’s text inquired.

Before I could finish typing my reply he continued with, “it’s ok if you can’t…”

I watched the texting bubbles continue and finally emerge, “do you mind taking a detour on the way home?”

I easily replied, “of course. I’d do anything for you.”

Then I sent an amusing Meatloaf meme. Meatloaf the band, not the entree.

What I didn’t do was think, “I can’t believe he asked me to do that!” Although I could have. After all, at the time I was currently on my fourth, twelve hour shift in a row, and he knew this full well. Twelve hour shifts are no joke anyway, but factor in more like thirteen at the critical care patient bedside, and it felt like a seventy-two hour shift. Well, it had been over fifty hours worked in a mere four days. Point being, yeah, I was tired.

When my husband (who didn’t work outside of the home) asked me to stop and pick him up something, I didn’t think the above for even a moment. It never entered my mind actually. He needed something, I had the only vehicle, and most importantly, I loved him.

You see, love is service. You serve in love and that’s the core of marriage. Here’s what marriage is not. It’s not comparison.

To say, “well, I’ve been working all day” is to suggest that he had not been working.

To say, “well, my job at the hospital is harder than his job at home” not only took away from the important tasks he performed in our home, but it also tried to value me over him. That’s not something we do.

Nursing is hard.

Parenting is hard.

Patient care is hard.

Homeschooling is hard.

Working outside of the home is stressful.

Working inside the home is stressful.

I’ve done both fulltime, so I knew.

I knew you can’t really compare the two, but I knew I wouldn’t want to anyway. You see, our relationship isn’t based on who does more. It’s based on the question we both ask ourselves daily, “what more can I do to serve my spouse in love?”

Love isn’t just a word, but it’s also not just a feeling. If love was only feelings I certainly would not have felt like making a detour that night. No, love was also action. You showed love by your service in love, without complaint, without comparison, without expecting something in return.

When I arrived home that night, after making my detour, I was hit immediately by the delicious smell wafting out the kitchen window. Waiting for me was homemade fried chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, corn on the cob, and freshly baked cookies. My happy, healthy daughters greeted me with a smile, displaying proudly their schoolwork from that day, graded by their teacher/principal/dad. I walked happily into the clean living room and noticed the empty laundry baskets sitting in the hall. He had done it all. After dinner he massaged my tired feet and got our daughters ready for bed. If we were keeping track, he had probably outdone me that day, but rather than tallying up a scorecard, I simply enjoyed the feeling of being taken care of so well. Of being loved so well. Of being served in love, and serving in return, not out of obligation, but because of our shared affection. That was marriage.

Investing in the Future

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Today I was going through an app that allows me to see pictures I posted on social media from the time I had a smartphone, and as I was swiping left I came across a cherished photo. It was a black and white shot of my firstborn from six years ago, and I felt a bittersweet ache in my heart that got stuck as an emotional lump in my throat. As I gazed at the precious memory my eldest girl walked up.

Y’all, my child has gotten so tall, and when I saw her standing over my lounge chair poolside, in contrast to the tiny, chubby-cheeked babe on my phone, I was struck straight through the heart, as if an arrow representing the swift passage of time had pierced through to my marrow.

The most peculiar part, to me, was that I didn’t remain melancholy over how fast it all goes. Instead I felt a sense of contented joy, like everything was progressing as it should. I had zero regret for the things I should of/could of done, and though I wasn’t claiming a perfect parenting plan, I was pleased with our journey thus far. I didn’t feel so much like it was a cruel, fleeting season, but rather one I was savoring with vigor.

When I first became I mother I realized it was my greatest responsibility and most enjoyable tasking of life. I quickly discovered I wanted nothing more than to leave my nine to five and find a way to mother more. I was blessed at the time to find a position at my hospital where I could work less and be home more with little financial difference. Cause, come on, although a lot of men and/or women desire to see their children more, it doesn’t seem like it can always work out that way. I never took for granted the opportunity I had been afforded to spend time with my children while also working as a bedside nurse.

As life changed and seasons followed suit, I found circumstances altered, but my greatest goal never changed. Here’s what I didn’t want. I didn’t want other people raising my babies. They were my reward, and I didn’t want to hand that prize to another. But more than that, they were my legacy, my responsibility (which I took very seriously), and the ministry God had given me for this particular time of my life. I knew that my largest and most monumental heart desire was to be able to instill in my children the things I had been unaware of until adulthood. I wanted to raise them wholly aware of God’s hand in their life, and I desired to equip them with the wisdom of knowing they were not alone in the battles they faced. I needed them to see firsthand how joy-filled a life serving the Lord could be. I wanted them to have the opportunity to see things it had taken me forty years to discover.

This hefty, utmost knowledge I knew couldn’t be passed along in a thirty minute Sunday School lesson. It was something that must be instilled, but also modeled. It was something I had to walk out, showing them daily, and I wanted to be able to do it. As parents, my husband and I have made sacrifices to maintain our goals. We have downsized and let go of materialistic treasures, in favor of investing in what we consider our Heavenly Treasure. Our babies. To gain time with them we had to let go of the things that stole our time from them. I’m grateful we were given the desire and insight to make this work.

Not that I’ve obtained it yet, like, where I totally want to be, but I can look backwards and see improvement over time. Heck, a mere two-three years ago I was stuck in the hamster wheel too. I was running ragged, overbooking my schedule, over-extending myself, and sadly teaching my children that was normal. We were always going, rushing, and trying to fill commitments that weren’t necessary. Laundry was a chore, grocery shopping grueling, and the supper-time crunch exasperating. Why we call this normal, I’ll never know. I guess because it’s the way it’s always been, but with the addition of everyone critiquing our lives as we narrate them, or coveting how smoothly someone else’s story appears.

Thankfully, I can now proceed without regret, knowing I’m investing the most in what matters most. I don’t feel like I’m missing out on my children’s childhood. I have a ringside seat to their life. We homeschool largely in part because of our desire to not miss the majority of their life. I saw a story recently of schools possibly extending their hours. Can you imagine?!

We found an area of the country where we can work less but make a larger income, and on top of that we found a way to cut down our expenses. It was scary leaving our comfort zones, but totally worth it in the end. As the world gets faster and the focus convoluted, I see more people choosing to do things the way we are doing. Downsizing, minimalizing, and seeking opportunities to focus on family more. I’m thankful we realized it’s okay to step outside of the norm and pursue something different. Almost every day I see people voice their unhappiness with the pace of their life or with the lack of quality time with loved ones.

I guess I would just say to every discontented parent, “you can do it!” If you’re not happy with life, change it. Don’t be afraid to try something new. Don’t be afraid to step out of your comfort zone. Don’t be worried about what other people think, and don’t be scared to fail. You will never know if your life can improve if you stay stuck in your rut. Break out.

Maybe you’re happy with the way things are. That’s wonderful! But if you’re not consider this post your call to duty. It’s time to invest in what’s important in life, and it’s the people you love. I took care of a patient once who was on his death bed. In pleasant conversation I had told his wife about my life, how I traveled in an RV with my family, homeschooling, working a little, and having fun a lot. She was intrigued and enamored, as most people are, but I’ll never forget her words.

“I wish we had done that.”

You see, they had wanted to travel as a family, but they had waited. They waited until things settled down. They waited until a certain season passed. They waited until Junior finished school. Then they waited until retirement. One month into traveling her husband was diagnosed with terminal cancer.

“It’s too late now,” she had said.

Consider this your wake up call, your sign, if you will. Don’t wait another minute to follow your dreams and spend time doing what you love. You just think there’s no way out, but there’s always another way. It may involve sacrifice, and it might be frightening. People may try and talk you out of it, but I am encouraging you to try anyway. You will never know unless you take that step, and you’ll only regret what you didn’t do.

I Never Did Mind the Little Things

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I turned to throw a used cotton-ball into the tiny, bathroom trashcan, and I suddenly noticed the huge ball of long gray hair. It sat on the outside of the swinging door entrance to the garbage, and I easily identified it as my husband’s since the rest of us were all crowned with differing shades of dirty dishwater blond. I could picture him standing in the small bathroom, running his fingers through his long, more salt than pepper hair, before gathering it into a tidy ponytail, and flinging the loose hairs that had caught between his digits towards the trash absently. Sigh. This was my husband.

I easily and quickly pushed the wad of forgotten hair into the awaiting can, while also depositing there any hint of frustration that had tried to rear it’s ugly head.

I never did mind the little things.

I smiled to myself as the line of a nineties movie staring Bridget Fonda came to mind. In the film she had been a thief turned government assassin, who subsequently had to be turned from a crack addict criminal into a lady of refinement (ain’t Hollywood grand), and her etiquette coach had encouraged her that when nervous to repeat the phrase to herself to remain calm.

I never did mind the little things.

Although I wasn’t hiding behind a small, kitchen counter loading my beretta while gunfire exploded around me like our dear Bridget, I could certainly relate to my emotions getting the better of me. And though it wasn’t my life I feared for, it was my marriage and family. Even though I couldn’t see the bullets blowing up around me, I knew that fiery arrows flew in my direction. As a child of God I knew it wasn’t flesh and blood I battled, but attacks from an enemy who sought to destroy the covenant of marriage. One very effective weapon of warfare in his arsenal was the missile of comparison and the smoke bomb of selfishness. As silly as it may sound, he brought both of those things stealthily into the atmosphere of marriage to create an air of discontent and division.

I never did mind the little things.

My defense was my ability to not take offense. In other words, when I felt nudged to selfishly compare myself to my spouse, I had to take inventory.

I had to ask myself, “is this really worth being bothered by?”

I had to remember my faults and not just highlight my husband’s.

My husband and I will have been married ten years this month, and I learned early on that we had our differences. Things I felt were important weren’t as much to him, and things that bothered me didn’t cause him concern at all. As we’ve grown as a couple over the years we have learned how to take the feelings of the other into consideration and act/react accordingly, but it’s not like we’ve changed who we are. We’ve become more loving, considerate, and selfless in our service to one another, but it’s not like we took a magic potion to suddenly become the perfect spouse. He wasn’t perfect, I wasn’t perfect, but most importantly, we didn’t expect that of each other.

A widow will tell you how she pines to find her late husband’s laundry outside of the basket. For the very things we may find at one moment as annoying are the very things someone else could only hope for. A dirty dish beside the bed is far better than a forever empty sink. It comes down to having a choice to make in your relationship. You can choose to focus on the minuscule madness or see it all as a beautiful mess. You can point out the idiosyncrasies of your spouse while ignoring your own, or you can celebrate having someone to share in the ups and downs of life. I’m not saying you ignore blatantly inconsiderate actions, silently taking abuse like some marital martyr, but I am suggesting we take a moment to calm our emotions and take an inventory of what is most important.

I never did mind the little things.

Is being right every time the most important? Is it winning every argument? Is it never picking up the slack when your partner doesn’t carry their fair share of the load, assuming that you yourself never falter in such a way?

If you answered yes to the above then marriage will not be enjoyable to you much of the time, because instead of a partnership, you’re viewing it as a competition.

Perhaps a happy union means that you decide to let the little things go. Maybe it means serving someone in love while expecting nothing in return. I think it involves changing your perspective, highlighting the positive, rather than magnifying the minor faults that arise. I don’t see a ball of discarded hair or a pile of dirty clothes as much as I see a loving man who makes me feel beautiful always, who serves me consistently, who teaches and disciplines our children with grace, who would lay down his very life for us.

I never did mind the little things.

Because I’m too focused on the big things. I see to the heart of the matter rather than being distracted by the things of this world. I don’t expect perfection of my spouse. The only perfect man died for me over 2,000 years ago. But I will appreciate the man God has placed in my life to love me, my faults included. I’ll be thankful he adores me despite those same faults. I’ll be grateful that he too never did mind the little things.

Is Satan Stealing Our Marriages?

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This morning I sat outside sipping hot coffee while a cool (but not too cold breeze) stirred the air. My husband and children still slept, and per usual I had awoken a bit before them so I might enjoy some quiet time before our day began. We had made plans to go swimming at a natural spring, and I knew the task of packing up for a day away awaited me. There would be suits to track down, dry clothes to pack, and of course, food for the day. Feeding a family of five at a snack bar got pricey, so bringing our own grub was a must. I’d need cold drinks to keep everyone hydrated, and I wondered if we should blow up and haul our own innertube?

Another breeze blew over me, refreshing, nice, and the Hebrew word ruach entered my mind. Wind, breath, the very spirit of God, it blew on me and I felt peace, contentment, satisfaction. “I could sit here all day,” I whispered, and by the time my husband woke up I had decided to do just that. He was quick to agree, and just like that we dropped the well-intentioned plans we had made for the day.

Have you ever noticed how plans play out? Especially with small children? You spend a large amount of time creating fun ideas, creating the best environment for those ideas, and struggling to have them play out just as you envisioned. Which never happens. We’ve forgotten how to be still, and we’ve forgotten how to enjoy simple. And it’s just one more thing that the enemy is using to drive a wedge between a husband and wife.

How many expensive vacations end in exhaustion? An empty savings account, a stressed out mind, and the silent treatment. We’re a very mobile generation, always on the move, and we expect as much from our family as we do our internet provider.

Hurry up! Come on! Let’s go. We’re running out of time!

Wives are on edge, and husbands are at the end of their rope. You see, both are working very hard to create a picture perfect life, one that Instagram would be proud of.

“I’m making memories,” we proclaim.

But at what cost, I wonder?

Overtime. Husbands and wives both working full-time to support a family is commonplace, and while I’ll be the first to admit that this world today is crazy expensive, I’ll also be the first to confess that it isn’t as pricey as we create it. We are the ones who decide our homes must be a certain size. We need the fourth bedroom and downstairs half-bath. We gotta have more than one vehicle, and it needs to be something reliable. Minivan? Yuck. No thanks. A Suburban, please. We work to buy the stuff we don’t need, and as our square footage grows, so does our work week. Cha-Ching.

But one thing is for sure. We do it for our children. They need the absolute best. They need the dance class, drama camp, and tumbling too. All of the above, please. Sign us up!

I’ll volunteer to chaperone the field trip. Hubby can coach little league on the weekends. Games on Sunday? No problem.

We pull an extra shift at work to purchase new uniforms, use that credit card for the nicer pair of cleats. Johnny says all the other kids are wearing the name-brand ones, and you don’t want him to feel left out or get bullied.

Homework. Oh my goodness, the homework those kids bring in the door. You yell too much, and then you feel guilty. You know your son is just tired from staying up late due to that extended basketball practice, and waking up early to drive across town to his exclusive private school.

Somewhere in between the late nights, running errands after practice, overtime at the office for next year’s Disney trip, and squeezing in a quick WalMart trip for another Reading Fair project, you manage to squeeze in a date night. You sit at a dark booth, both of you with your heads in your phone, and you wonder when life will slow down.

Was it always this hard?! They say it’s easier after the kids leave home, but then you think of all your parent’s friends who got divorced once empty nesters. Did they run out of stuff to talk about? You can certainly relate. I mean, what’s there to discuss once the conversation doesn’t center around the children, where they’re going and what achievement they just won? What happened to people staying in love forever? Maybe true love doesn’t exist anymore.

Or perhaps we’ve just changed our investment strategies. Maybe our focus isn’t on our marriages. I think we’re too overwhelmed to feed into that relationship. We’ve become complacent in our comfortable life as roommates, partners in parenting, and financial assistant roles. We assume our marriage will thrive without watering, with plans to feed into it later. There’s just no time!

I wonder if we create our overloaded schedules? Is it our boss insisting we work late, or are we the cause? We can’t face our spouse that we forgot how to talk to. We can’t face another conversation about the kids’ future. The stress and worry is too much, and overtime seems like a pleasant option.

I wonder if we create our debt? We need 3000 square feet! We need a trip to the coast! We need a closet so packed the doors won’t close, and a cupboard so full of processed food we can make on the fly! We need Maui, a newer cell phone, and of course, more toys. Toys to keep the children entertained, but also toys to keep each other happy. It fills the silence, you know.

We are so focused on raising the best children on the block. We are so focused on appearances. We are so focused on bigger, better, and more. We’ve gotten so good at being busy; we consider it a badge of honor. We’ve gotten so concerned with keeping up with what everyone else is doing. We’ve gotten so used to being stressed out that we think it’s normal. We medicate with wine, and we overindulge in our favorite vices. We’re too tired for sex, too exhausted to just sit and talk. We keep waiting for life to slow down, never understanding that we set the pace.

Husbands and wives become opponents instead of teammates. Marriage becomes a contest to see who contributes the most to the family unit. We become bitter, expecting our spouse to give us a reprieve, even though we ourselves have created our own chaos.

Parents forget that children don’t come first! Kids plot parents against one another, having learned early on that we allow it. We spend thousands of dollars a year on things our children don’t need, and we invest even more in a college fund to the most prestigious university. Never once do we invest in our relationship with our spouse.

But date night, you say. We have that!

Ahh, yes, the two hours alone, where you’re both too exhausted from work to do much more than lift a heavy fork to your silent mouth. That sounds lovely.

We have removed fathers from the head of the family, and we’ve replaced them with our darling child. They rule the roost. We even joke about it on Facebook. Isn’t it so cute how sassy my little diva is?!

We’ve placed our work above our families. We’ve given it to coaches and teachers to handle. Yet when something falls apart, our spouse will be the one we attack.

We’ve dropped going to church together on Sunday. It’s seriously the only day we can sleep in. Saturday is packed with extracurriculars. We’re too tired to pray together before bed, and we can’t seem to find the time to instruct our children with the Bible. They already have so much homework as it is!

But then we wonder why our children don’t respect us? We wonder why our spouse is so short-tempered.

What about our quiet time with God? Well, it’s been a while. We planned to do that today, but there was too much to do before we left the house. The house with the crazy, high mortgage, that we spend very little time in other than to sleep five hours a night.

We make excuses.

If only my husband would help out more around the house.

If only my wife would try to understand I have needs.

We’ll work this out tomorrow. I’m exhausted tonight.

One silent day leads to another, and leads to another. We find ourselves living together but feeling alone. We raise children together but exist in silence, an invisible space separating us. We make it so easy for Satan to destroy the foundation of marriage. He uses our busyness to keep us from communicating. He uses our selfishness to increase our anger. He uses our coveting and comparison to keep us working harder for more of what we don’t need. He uses our obsession with the educational excellence of our children to keep us away from time with one another. He uses our preoccupation with our cell phones, tablets, and social media accounts to keep us from making God’s Word a part of our everyday lives. He brings sin into our homes slowly, so slowly that we barely recognize it. We’re sure the movies we watch, books we read, or websites we visit in secret aren’t harming our relationships.

But I’m of the belief that we must take back our families from the enemy. We must claim our right to a happy, healthy relationship like God intended. We have to take back our time. We can’t become confused by what the world says is important. We can’t believe the lies the enemy tells us to focus on. We have to stop investing into the world and get back to investing in love. We can’t spend the majority of our life away from our families, but then wonder why they’re falling apart. We have to stop investing so much in the materialistic aspects of our home, yet neglecting the lasting flesh and blood that resides therein. We gotta stop keeping up with the Joneses and start keeping up with God’s will for our families.

God created marriage, and He didn’t just make it so we’d have someone to help us with the dishes. He didn’t create this covenant with arguments over who forgot to buy toilet paper in mind. He didn’t place us together to run ourselves ragged with busy schedules and overwhelming responsibilities. He created marriage to mirror His covenant with us, and on the day we finally become His bride, do you think He’ll be too busy running the angels to soccer practice to sit down at the banquet table with us? Do you think He’ll be too tired to talk or too overwhelmed by His day of miracles to hold us?

And here’s a thought. Our children are watching us. They are creating their idea of marriage based on our example. What type of husband are you modeling for your daughter’s future expectations? What kind of wife are you showing your son to build a life with? Do you know how Satan is stealing our marriages? Through us! We are eagerly breaking down the future foundation of marriage by our poor example, and our complacence and neglect is pushing our own spouse further and further away. It shouldn’t be so.

We have to take back our marriages before it’s too late. We have to reclaim our time so we can invest it where it is needed most. We have to take our eyes off other relationships and focus them in our own backyard. We have to let Dad lead the family. We have to stop competing. We have got to quit going and going! We have to be still! We have to sit quiet and let the ruach blow over our marriages. We’ll never feel it if we’re too busy striving for more. You have to be still to truly feel the wind blow. We have to stop handing the enemy our family on a golden platter. We have to take back what God has given us. We have to open our eyes to the gift of our spouse, just as God made them, and stop trying to make them into someone else. We have to take time to appreciate our partner. We have to trade in our badge of busy for the soothing silk of stillness. Only in simplicity can we truly see how blessed we are.

So I suppose the question is this. God has given us marriage. Will you make the pledge to take it back from the enemy today?

What God Would Say to the Woman Who’s Not Enough

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Most of us women, at one time or another, feel as if we’re not enough, like we’re lacking some fundamental trait that will magically transform us into the women we wish to be. Not a patient enough mother, or perhaps you’re a wife who suffers to serve. We desire to be that mighty woman of God, to get it right at least every now and again. A fight with our spouse, or a harsh, thoughtless word screamed in frustration at our children prove to us where we have fallen short once again. If only we could be the kind of friend our girlfriends need, or have the time and energy to volunteer at church. If only we could keep the kitchen clean, laundry basket empty, or keep up with our graying roots like other moms seem to do.

We see our Facebook friends dressing trendy, our Instagram idols redecorating their homes. The lady next door doesn’t have trash falling out of the backseat of her minivan, and the mom of four at church, her kids are always so well behaved! A condescending look at the grocery store, the well-intentioned yet hurtful advice from an older woman at church, and the thoughtless comment from your husband all cement the idea that you need to step it up. You need to change, improve, work on you!

Wash your face, wipe your eyes, and work on you! Make time for yourself, yet cherish time with your children, time that is fleeting, and that you’re constantly reminded passes too quickly. How does that work?!

You’ll miss this, they say, all while taking afternoon naps themselves that you can’t personally enjoy.

So you strive to do better. You endeavor to be a Proverbs 31 woman, even though you feel like a Prozac 24/7 kinda gal. If you feel depressed you must not be godly enough, so back to the drawing board for you. Watch your weight, exercise, pray, repeat. Count backwards from ten, take your vitamins, and drink more water. Go out with your girlfriends, read a book, take time for yourself. Stay attractive for your spouse, serve him in love, and give him the affection you yourself feel like you’re lacking. Be in the mood, even if you’re not. Meal prep, crockpot, freezer meals. Keto, Paleo, Weight Watchers, Hello Fresh. So much advice, yet so little time. I don’t know about you, but I just want to not be tired anymore, and to wake up without a sore neck and back. Also, why am I anxious about nothing at all?!

Being a woman is hard, but working to be the woman you think you should be is even harder. It’s not easy being everything for everyone, yet still feeling like you’re not enough. Not good enough, pretty enough, young enough, thin enough, strong enough, happy enough. You’re not everyone’s cup of tea, sure, but maybe you just want to be the cup you yourself could enjoy. You want to be the mother your children deserve, the wife your husband desires, and the woman God needs you to be. Why is it so hard?!

Well, take a breath and listen. This is what God would say to you today.

Stop! Don’t work on you. Work on knowing me better. Stop striving to be the “mighty woman of God” you think you should be, and instead simply rest in who I have created you to be.

I don’t want you to be like her. I created you to be you. The things you see as flaws, I put those there. I thoughtfully formed your crooked nose and short legs. And even the flaws that the world has harshly placed upon you, I can work with those too. Don’t doubt what I can do.

The world will say you are not enough. Even my other children will tell you that is so. Satan will whisper lies so stealthy you will think they are truth, but I promise you this. You can only find my truth in my Word. If it’s not in the Bible, then it’s not for you to believe.

Stop seeking self-improvement, and instead seek my face. Spend time with me. Pour over my truths in scripture, and let that truth flood your soul. Allow it to take over your thoughts so that when lies from the enemy come, because they will, you can overpower them with who I say you are.

Stop working on being better, and start being better in me. Remember that my strength is in your weakness, that you have been made perfect in me, that I am in you, and you are in me. Together, there is no lack. There is always enough.

You are what I say you are, and you are enough. You can rest in my perfect peace, knowing the plans I have for you, plans for a wonderful future.

Stop fighting battles I have already won. Stop waging war on yourself. I take it personally. I created the stars in the sky, ones you cannot even see, ones that shine so fiercely they are blinding up close, but you are still my most precious creation. Just as you are. Stop trying to alter my design.

Stop planning to do better, and simply follow my path I have laid out for you. You cannot see it for your own anxieties of becoming lost. When you feel lost, go back to my map. Read the words there in red. They tell you the way.

Stop working on being a better you, and focus on residing in me. I am your safe place. I can block out the whispers that say you’re not enough. There’s nothing wrong with desiring to be a better you, except when you begin to think you alone hold the key to change. Only I can change hearts, and only in me will you find the completeness you desire. Stop trying to be everything, and rest in the fact that I already am. In me you have fullness of life. In me, you are already enough.

Looking For Love in All the Wrong Places

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When my biological father gave me up, I wondered what it was about me that made it so easy to let me go.

When my high school boyfriend broke up with me for the other girl, I couldn’t help but wonder what she had that I lacked.

When the first man I ever loved broke my heart, I cried into my pillow, feeling like I would never again find that feeling I had when I was with him.

When I told the cute boyfriend in college, “I love you,” and he thereafter ghosted all my calls, I wondered what made me so easy not to love.

Broken girls become broken women, lacking love, yet seeking it desperately. I always put so much stock in how others felt about me. I was the new kid on the block who just wanted to be your friend, or the quiet girl pining for the cool guy, drawing secret doodles of his name in study hall. A people pleaser by nature, like a loyal pup longing to have its ears scratched while hearing, “yes, you’re a good girl.”

It sounds quite absurd putting it out there like that, but in hindsight I can see the desperation of my past. Like Pavlov’s dogs, I longed for a reward, and my ear was always tuned towards the ringing of the bell. I was eager in my relationships, yet skittish to reach out, if that makes sense. Having learned from an early age that the people you love will definitely leave you, I was hesitant to make new friends, but boy oh boy, did I long for them. I wanted to be wanted, while simultaneously fearing hurt.

I fit into the military like a missing puzzle piece. It was easy to excel when all you had to do was what someone else told you to do.

Yes, sir.

No, sir.

Right away, sir.

Of course, I was top of the class when it came to following commands. Being told exactly what to do is easy; having the courage to step out on your own volition, that’s a bit harder.

As a young woman I felt my body was a weapon, something I could use to my advantage. Like a carrot on a string, dangled to draw attention, but pulled away in hopes a chase would ensue. Sometimes often times not pulled away at all.

In my first marriage I was the doting wife. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, per se, but I know I would have done anything to please him. I would, and sometimes did, forgo the woman I was meant to be in order to become the woman I thought he wanted. My desire to be a good wife was probably crippling to us both. I think sometimes he longed for me to fight back, to argue when I was right, but instead I just said, “I’m sorry.”

I was always sorry. Sorry I wasn’t pretty enough, good enough, desirable enough. Through the long string of failed relationships prior to my first marriage, I had been the same. If I was desired, I felt like I was enough. But if I was rejected, I felt severely lacking. I based my worth on the measurement from others, honestly people who were just as broken as myself. Empty souls longing for something real, something to fill the void.

When my first husband told me he didn’t love me anymore, I felt a pain like no other. In hindsight, I think a wound that started long before was ripped open that night. A never truly-healed trauma that I only added to year after year. He was just fuel on the fire of an already broken heart. He didn’t do the breaking of my heart; he was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.

After almost thirty years of seeking love and coming up empty I had hit the bottom of myself. And in that cellar place I sat in the tattered rags of my wrecked life.

I cried out to God. I’m not sure what gave me the courage. After all, I had run from His presence. Though He promised the heart of a Father I had not been shown initially, or the lover I longed for, I had in actuality rejected Him. I had turned my head at His nod of affection, I had ignored His calls time and time again. Why would He want me back? A scorned woman, broken forever, incapable of being loved. Yet…

He answered me. In the pit of my own making, He shined His light. In the desert place I had intentionally wandered into, He gave me living water. He gave me the thing I had always wanted. He loved me regardless. Despite my failures.

He wooed me over time. Sinful man causes a woman to hide within herself, building up a wall to keep the good away. A broken woman thinks she can only have pain. But He was patient with me, calling me softly, closer day by day.

You see, before God could bring me substantial love here on earth, in the arms of another, He had to teach me what love was, or rather what He intended it to be. He had to show me my real self, the one He created, the one He saw when He looked at me. This woman’s worth wasn’t dependent on how others felt about her, but on His opinion of her. This woman learned her worth in Jesus, that her life was worth dying for. Christ taught me how to love myself. And I realized that was independent of any man.

I was once a broken woman, born into poverty, immediately raised in rejection, stacked on top of a sinful world. I grew into a woman broken again and again, allowing the pain others piled on me to melt into my image of self. The cracks were many, at one point loosely held together by nicotine and alcohol, but that is a story for another day. Today, suffice to say, I reckon we’re all broken in one way or another, just some of us more often.

I was a broken woman, looking for love in all the wrong places, blind to the fact that true love had pursued me from day one. I was a broken woman, mended by acceptance, proven worthy by His sacrifice, and healed by His Holy affections.

I am a healed woman, strengthened by His truth, loved beyond measure, no more lacking. I am a woman filled, overflowing with joy, confident in His good grace, blessed by His mercy. I no longer look for love. I have found it. A lasting love that never leaves. And each day forward I strive to pour out that love to everyone I encounter. Because you never know who else you meet that might be broken too.

3 Keys to a Happier Marriage

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I’m always going to call myself a work in progress. I’m far from perfect, but wiser in my walk than I was before. I consider each day to be a new day to learn something new, about myself, about interacting with others, and about strengthening my marriage. My marriage isn’t perfect either, but I have been able to watch it mature into something lovely over the years. It didn’t start out on solid ground, that I can promise you. If it were not for the prompting of the Holy Spirit, it might have crumbled in that newlywed period a decade ago, but through perseverance, prayer, and the knowledge of the Lord, we have cultivated a beautiful covenant that becomes better each and everyday. Here’s a few tips I have found to be so very true in having a happy, healthy relationship.

1. Lower your expectations. In fact, go ahead and drop them all together. Whatever dream person you have created in your head, let them go. This is reality, people. Open your eyes and fix them on Jesus. He’s the only perfect one you’ll ever find.

I discovered pretty early on that my husband and I shared more differences than similarities. Where I was a perfectionist, he was content with getting by. Where I was a planner, he was a procrastinator. Where I was motivated, he was blasé. Where I completed a task once I got started, he was fine with letting it fall away. It was exasperating.

But then I discovered something more. Where I often held unrealistic expectations for life, he was more able to go with the flow that is the reality of a tumultuous world. Where I had to have my ducks in a row, he was more open to change and going off course to achieve the same goal. Where I was overly dedicated to a task of my own making, he was open to the plans God put before us. Where I became almost obsessed with seeing a project to completion, he was more able to open his hands in surrender to allow Jesus to take it away.

I like to take pictures. He doesn’t. Lol.

I discovered we were a pretty good team. It was like it was a God-ordained union, something I had always known, but didn’t realize the details of until it was before me. You see, a huge cause of discontent in marriage is failed expectations. We have a certain idea in mind of how our spouse must be. When they inevitably fail to meet those expectations we become angry and disillusioned. We seldom stop and understand that they were made a specific way by God, and that if we believe God to be the director of our lives, then we must trust that He put two distinctive personalities together for a reason, for a purpose. Remember, the plans of man always fail; it’s God who directs our steps.

So, drop who you think your spouse should be, celebrate who they are, and most importantly, pray that they will become who God has them to be (not who you have them to be).

2. Remove your plank. I know I’m stepping on some toes now. Another big cause of marital strife comes in the form of our own judgement and self-centeredness. This is a hard pill to swallow, but truth usually is. The problem with the human condition is sin, imperfection, and blindness. No, I don’t mean physical blindness, but rather a spiritual one. Our expectations for ourselves are never as high as the expectations we place on others. Because only God knows our every thought and desire, only He can always do what’s right by us. Only He will never hurt us. Now understand, our sin may hurt us, and God may allow that, but He will never hurt us. If you’ve been around people for longer than five minutes then you know that’s not true of us.

In marriage (and all relationships for that matter), you will get your feelings hurt. The person won’t say the right thing, do the right thing, or always act in the right manner. You will be left hurt, wounded, and let down, which typically leads to anger. After all, it’s easier to get mad than stew in hurt feelings.

“He never helps me!”

“She never wants to have sex anymore.”

“Does he ever hear a word I say?!”

“Why does she keep nagging me?!”

“What’s her problem?”

“What did I do this time?!”

A relationship can become a blame game, pointing fingers and keeping score. Who’s done more for the marriage? Who says I’m sorry first? How long until they disappoint me again? I’ll enlist the silent treatment; let’s see who breaks the silence and speaks first.

“I wonder how long he’ll leave his dirty laundry at the foot of the bed?”

“I wonder how long she’ll leave that curling iron on the sink?”

“I work all day at my job!”

“I work all day at this house, with the children!”

It becomes a competition of who does more, who does less, and who can see the contribution you’re putting out there. We become so blinded by what we’re giving out that we miss what our partner is supplying. We become so focused on where we’re taken advantage of that we totally miss our own selfish attitude.

Who’s the most selfish person in the relationship?

It’s the one who’s breathing. It’s him, it’s her, it’s you, it’s me. We’re all selfish. That’s the easy part of marriage. The hard part is moving past selfishness and working towards servanthood. Serve your spouse; don’t spend your time wondering how they can serve you.

Before you become angry, fed up, or burned out with your partner, consider how you might better improve yourself. What can you do to cultivate the relationship? What plank exists in your own eye while you’re distracted with the sawdust they left on the floor?

From personal experience, you get back what you put in. Your reward is dependent on how you run the race. Your harvest is based on what you’re planting and feeding into the soil. Just like your banking account, the deposits have to exceed the withdrawals, otherwise you’re bankrupt. Invest to see a future profit.

3. Learn what love is. A majority of marriages that end in divorce are because of a lack of love. They start with what they think is love, but it’s not. A lot of the time what we assume is love is really addiction. Hang with me, now.

We are addicted to feeling good. We need to feel appreciated, taken care of, desired, found attractive. We thrive on compliments, we feel best when we are needed. It gives us a sense of purpose to take care of someone, and it gives us a sense of peace to have someone take care of us. And while yes, I believe God created marriage with a partnership in mind, we confuse love with performance. We convolute love with just emotion. So when we are hurt, our love takes a hit. We base our ability to love someone on how they love us back. We base our continued love for someone on how it feels at the moment. We take back love when ours isn’t reciprocated.

If you find yourself doing any of the above in your own relationship, don’t beat yourself up too bad. You’re in good company. It’s called being human. We eat food based on what tastes good. And we stay committed to someone based on the continued performance of our spouse. We’re basically grading our marriage, and we are using a pass or fail sliding scale.

I love ice cream because it’s delicious. Especially chocolate chip! I love my husband, but he isn’t always pleasing to my palate. Sometimes he’s downright bitter.

If we desire a happier marriage we have to enlist a bit of Christ-like behavior. We have to try and love more like Jesus does. We have to understand and discover that real, unbreakable love isn’t based on what we can get out of it. Real, unconditional love is the kind that dies for you even when you hate it. It’s the kind that forgives you even when you are the weapon of that death. It’s the kind of love that loves the unlovable, that loves even when it gets nothing in return.

I’m not asking you to be crucified like a martyr for your marriage, but I do think you’ll grasp a taste of the divine when you can try and sample what He placed before us as an example of love. We are the bride of Christ, and the love He’s laying down, can’t nobody model, but it comes back to that thing I mentioned in the first paragraph. Work in progress. We’re all working towards that perfection we can achieve through Him. Does that mean a perfect marriage? No. But it does mean a happier, healthier one if we can try a little harder to understand that real love He modeled.

When you walk in that kind of love for your spouse, you love them even when they say something thoughtless. You forgive them when they fail you. You love them when you’re not feeling like it, and you love them even when they have nothing to give in return. That is love.

We love Christ because He first loved us (1 John 4:19), and true, long-standing love is achieved through giving of yourself without expectation of what you’ll get in return.

We can’t place too much expectation on our marriage. The only perfect marriage is between Jesus and the Church. To love your spouse is to mean that even when they don’t meet that high expectation, we still love. We love like Christ, because He first loved us. I found that by modeling that kind of love towards my husband, he in turn loved me the same.

My husband and I only expect perfection in Jesus, and our true joy and contentment cannot be found in one another. They can only be found in Him. We have found happiness in remembering that on a day-to-day basis. We model His love to one another, but we also understand that kind of love can only truly be found in Him.

God Doesn’t Expect Our Perfection

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I woke up this morning with conflict on my mind. I hated that! The thing was I had gone to sleep with the same worries plaguing me. Before I drifted to sleep I read the Bible, desiring to fill my mind with truth, yet I still woke with it in my head. Ugh.

I hate conflict. I think my husband is the luckiest guy on the planet because he rarely has to face a fight with me. Arguments make me uncomfortable, and raised voices make me shake. When I come across a disagreement with someone I am quick to back down, apologize, make amends, whatever needed to save the relationship. And I think that’s a good thing overall. It means I value people over always being right. In my line of work as a nurse there are a lot of times I’m right, but I will let it go. I try to place myself in the other person’s shoes, and I do this with everyone. My preference is to avoid conflict altogether, but eventually it occurs despite my best intentions.

It was such an interaction that kept coming up in my mind as I stood in the shower. I don’t know why my brain does this, but I will replay a negative interaction over and over. I’ll think of things I didn’t say, things I should have said, and of course question anything I did say or do. I will mentally beat myself up over something like this, and that’s what I found myself doing this morning.

As I stood before the mirror mentally trying to push the situation that was over and done with to the over and done with bin of my brain, I prayed, and at that moment I felt very strongly that I should speak to this matter out loud. It seemed kind of crazy to me, but I knew its merit also. After all, when anxiety or senseless worry continues to assault your mind, where do you suppose these thoughts come from? They certainly aren’t from God. Conviction of where you might be wrong is one thing, but incessant agonizing is not. Fretting isn’t from a friend, and panic isn’t for our pleasure. One thing I knew; God did not want me feeling this way, making mountains out of molehills.

They say there’s power in the name of Jesus, and believing that to be so I spoke His name out loud.

“These thoughts that are harassing me aren’t welcome,” I said. “You have to leave in Jesus name.”

Y’all, if my mirror turned into a burning bush I wouldn’t have been surprised, because divine intervention happened in that room. It wasn’t like it took a while, either. It wasn’t later in the day or even thirty minutes after. Within moments I felt better. The anxious thoughts had drifted away. They no longer banged persistently at my door. They left.

As I sat on my bed getting ready I finally thought about other things, and as my mind wandered towards a parent’s class at my church I thought of some good advice for moms and the unrealistic expectations we place on our parenting skills.

God doesn’t expect our perfection. So why do we?

It was like a lightening bolt word of wisdom that I suddenly realized could be used in my day to day life and interactions with others. A lot of my worry when conflict occurred was if I handled it properly, or if I was a good example of Christ. On times like the most recent object of my obsession and personal conflict I knew I had a tendency to beat myself up over how I could have handled things better. But God didn’t expect my perfection. So why did I?

I was reminded that I won’t be perfect in every single interaction I have with others. Let’s be honest; some people are really difficult to handle. But the point is I’m trying. I strive each day to be a better me than yesterday, but when I fall I can be reminded of God’s bountiful grace. I can remember that in my weaknesses I find strength in Him. I guess that’s a reminder we all need from time to time.

When Everyone Thinks You Will Fail

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“I’m gonna be honest,” he said. “I thought this was a really bad idea when you first brought it up.”

I wasn’t surprised. A lot of people had felt that way. People I loved, people whose opinion I valued. People who had a huge impact on my life, and people I desired to please. These were the people who had thought we were making a mistake, but I guess when God is leading you to something different, you have no choice but to go with it. You just hope they’ll come around.

Almost two years later, the majority of our family and friends had. They were truly happy for us as we led an unconventional life that went against the grain of everything that society told us was normal. They saw it in our eyes, our smiles, our very countenance. They saw how joyous we were after letting go of all the things that were supposed to make us happy in this world.

I know onlookers had stood agasp as we emptied our two story home of all its contents, sold our possessions for less than half of their worth, and locked the doors, turning our backs on what had once been considered our dream home. As I walked through it yesterday, footsteps echoing across the empty floor and radiating down the bare hall, I felt nothing. Once upon a time it had been bittersweet to say goodbye to our house, but that was before I truly discovered what made a home. I had only left the large house looming in my rear view because I knew God had something else in store. But yesterday, I didn’t look back as we pulled out of the long, shaded drive. I just left it behind.

Sometimes what lies ahead of you is far better than you could ever fathom. I’m glad we had believed that when the rest of the world looked at us like we were crazy.

I can still remember what it was like. I was happy. I was. But I was also tired. I was stressed out, sometimes depressed for no particular reason at all. I missed my husband, and I longed for him to really smile again. Something happens when you build a family, when you grow up. You enter into a place of anxiety and dread mixed with tiny moments of wonderful. You spend 75% of your life working to achieve that 25% of happy. You assume, “this is just the way it is,” as if working long hours, running errands on two wheels, drowning in debt, and burning the midnight oil is a part of the life you have built. Long hours at the table hammering Singapore Math equations into your eight year old. Was it like this for our parents?

Why can’t there be more of the happy? Is a quarter of joy really all you can get? You assume so.

We rush, we bustle about. We run here and there. We work, work, work. Birthday parties get bigger, Easter becomes like Christmas. The closets overflow. Time for another purge! If we pull a few more overtime shifts we can take vacation in June.

Sunday is an afterthought. Church is a place where you’re supposed to go. Gotta train up the kids right! God don’t mind if you miss for football, though. Hard to get any good news in your spirit since Sunday School is the only place you can find time for your Bible. But Monday is creeping up on you, the weekend is over, and back to the grind we go.

Gotta get new shoes, a brand that won’t cause your kid to get bullied, a style that will make them the envy of the other kids, the ones that will make you look like a good mom for buying them.

People thought we were crazy when we said, “let’s just get rid of it all!”

They thought we just meant the minivan with automatic doors and the ruffle dresses. They didn’t realize we meant the multiple car payments and dreaded mound of never-ending laundry too. They thought we were just selling the house. They never knew we were also refunding the false idea that a large living room made life good. We found out the whole world could be our backyard!

When we said we were going to travel the country in an RV, folks thought we were chasing a pipe dream, like the idea of it was more magical than the reality would entail. Some people even thought we would fail.

I get it! It’s hard to leave your comfort zone. It’s not easy to leave the way you’ve always known and embark on a future without answers. We took off with a tow vehicle we couldn’t yet afford, to pull a fifth wheel we didn’t yet own, to work a job that gave no promises of stability. We reserved a hotel we couldn’t keep paying for long term, and we carted everything we owned in suitcases and a handful of rubber-made totes. Gosh, we were a little crazy. But we were tired. So very tired.

You grow up thinking you need to obtain that Great American Dream, but when you finally do, you wonder where the joy went. It’s fragmented, kind of like your time, broken apart and unfairly divided amongst your many, overflowing responsibilities. We fall right into Satan’s plan, in student loan debt, working over in a job we hate, for a family we never see, and a vacation that will leave us exhausted. Well, dang.

My husband let another driver go first the other day. My spouse had the right of way. The other driver was very confused by my husband’s kindness and patience, and it took him a moment to pull forward and drive off. People are numb to the fast pace. They’ve become accustomed to road rage, anger management, horns honking, driving ten miles above the speed limit, and passing someone to gain a precious microsecond. That’s the way of the world. Everyone is in a hurry. But we decided we wanted to teach our children that servants don’t have a problem going last.

So, we let go of the ideas that more is better or that things like public opinion matter one iota when it comes to eternity and love. We live in 500 square feet, tiny compared to our previous floor plan, but man oh man, how our hearts have grown. For one another and others. We work less, play more. Our closets aren’t as full, but it wasn’t just designer jeans and boots we threw in plastic bags to give away; we got rid of the stress. We let go of worry, and instead we held tight to time together. We homeschool, we roadschool, we unschool the ideas of the world. We teach kindness, patience, even a little washing feet.

I think some of our friends and family worried how we would handle traveling somewhere new, holding a new job, living in new neighborhoods, away from the comfort of routine, the way things had always been. But I reckon sometimes you have to shake loose the dust of comfortable when it makes you complacent to living the life God has in mind for us all. He wants us focused on loving one another, taking the time to savor a sunset, throwing our hands up in surrender, saying, “your will, not mine.”

I guess that’s what we really did when we sold our stuff, packed up our family, and took off to travel in an RV. We just threw up our hands. We let go of what the world had said would make us happy. All of that was too stressful, too hard to maintain, too silly to sacrifice for mere scraps of happy. Why do we assume life must be a roller coaster? When do we admit all the dips and jerks are of our own design? We realized God didn’t have stress, struggling, and striving for us. He had thriving, not just surviving. He just wanted our love. The rest He would give us as needed, and I have to say that’s the best thing I’ve learned this past year. I don’t have to struggle for happy. He just gives. So I just need to receive.

People thought we were crazy, they thought we would fail, but we found that the really crazy part is how we used to live, tired and worn thin, hoping for a sliver of time together. We always felt we were failing at carving out a chunk of joy amidst all the chaos, but we realize now we only failed because we tried too hard at too much of nothing.

Maybe this all sounds like the musings of a crazy woman, but I’ve never felt more sane. We value time over treasure, we hold more highly the love we can bestow than the gifts we can get. What I mean is this. We just love Jesus and live life. We trust Him, we spend more time together than we spend money. We let go of fear and grabbed tightly to trust. We did this by selling all our stuff and moving into an RV, but I figure God can change hearts any which way He designs. For us, it took a drastic change to shift our mindset to what’s important in life, but maybe for someone else He can do it another way.

All I know is that most folks don’t think we’re crazy anymore. They think we’re onto something good. They see the experiences our children are having, seeing sights they never would before, meeting new people, and watching mom and dad trust the Lord for it all. They don’t think we’ll fall down or fail anymore. They realize that we’re actually living the dream. The legit dream. And it’s nothing like society has esteemed it to be. Nothing at all.

My Husband is a Stay-at-Home Dad, and I Don’t Care What You Think About It

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I am a part of some different Facebook groups, and last week I got a little ruffled over some comments on a thread I was following. Well, ruffled is probably too strong of a word. I’d say I felt defensive for a moment. Why? Because I took it personally. I took personal offense for the love of my life. Wait, I guess I better explain, put it into context for you.

You see, I’m a travel nurse. And I travel in an RV with my family. So I’m a part of several travel nurse, RV, family RV travel, and RV travel nurse groups. Now, if I’ve learned anything in life it’s that the opinion of others isn’t worth my heartache. In other words, not all people will agree with me, and that’s ok. Their opinion doesn’t make me or break me, but I guess it’s a little different when the jab is towards my best friend.

I was scrolling through my feed when I came across a travel nurse asking if any other nurses traveled with their spouse, and wanted to know how their spouse spent their time. There were a lot of answers like mine. Answers of, “my spouse stays home.” And not just housewives either. There were a lot of househusbands. As you would imagine, it didn’t take long for someone to state their opinion about a man not working, and a woman being the primary breadwinner.

A woman commented, “I can’t get over all these deadbeat dudes, and you ladies supporting them. No way I’d put up with that sh*t.”

My heart rate rose as I read the comment. She didn’t know my spouse! She didn’t know he had run his own business for years, working thirteen hour days, six days a week. She didn’t know the stress of all those years, how hard he had worked to support his growing family. I had to tell her these things. I had to defend his honor!

You know, that’s the thing about people who aren’t you. They don’t know you, and they don’t know the specifics of your situation. They don’t know the roads you have walked, or even how hard it was to get there. That’s why you have to just let it slip right on by you. Because they don’t know and probably never will. Most people are so fixed on their own opinion that even if you set them straight, they wouldn’t hear you. You have to decide that you don’t care what they think. Too often we value the opinion of others, and it’s the same people who wouldn’t give you a glass of water if you were on fire. It’s the people pointing out the sawdust in your eye when they have a plank in their own. It’s the people who have been wounded, and their opinions and beliefs are often convoluted by their own negative, past experiences. Maybe this lady had been married to a deadbeat once upon a time. It didn’t matter, though.

I didn’t need to say a word to defend my man’s honor. After all, I knew he was amazing. I knew his heart. I knew he homeschooled our children while I worked. I knew he did all the housework, cooking, laundry, vehicle/RV maintenance, and outside work. I knew I didn’t lift a finger when I was home because he had done it all already. I knew what he did was hard work. I was a stay-at-home mom for six or seven years, and I knew there wasn’t a fatigue that compared to child-raising. It’s the kind that made you want to run away or hide in a closet and cry.

I knew my stay-at-home husband worked hard. He worked hard at everything he did for us, whether in the home or out of the home. And I guess, at the end of the day, I was the only one who needed to know that. The opinionated commenter on Facebook had her own opinions of men she had never met, and I’m sure a lot of acquaintances (or even family) I know have their own opinions of my life too. But you know what?

I don’t care what you think. I just don’t have time for that. I’m too busy enjoying quality time with my family.

We live in a strange world. On one hand we have women everywhere marching for equal rights, but those same women will shun a man who stays home in what has traditionally been a female role. We have women who want to hold tight to traditional and Biblical roles of the man being the provider, but these same women have no qualms about usurping their husband’s authority, domineering the relationship, or ridiculing his opinions for the family unit. We have men and women who lament about not getting enough time together, but these same couples work overtime. We have men and women who want to homeschool or not put their babies in daycare, but these same people can’t find a way to cut the budget to make a one income family unit a reality. I’ve heard so many people say that nowadays it takes both parents working, and I guess that’s true if we consider a huge home, multiple cars, or namebrand clothing a must. Yes, everyone has to work to take a Disney vacation every year. Am I stepping on your toes?

A lot of people may think a man is lazy who stays at home, but I would say he’s loving. He loves his children, and he loves his wife enough to lay down macho stereotypes, worries about his friends or family’s opinion, and his own ego to be labeled a stay-at-home father. It’s not easy being a stay-at-home dad. You fight stereotypes and stupid comments. It’s not easy being a working mom. You face the same. You have to decide you don’t care what people think.

We made a decision collectively as a couple to do what was best for our family. A couple of years ago we both worked, but we still lived paycheck to paycheck. I rarely had a day off with my spouse, and he missed everything. He missed every softball game our eldest daughter played. He was exhausted most days. He never got to accompany us on fun, summer outings or exciting holiday gatherings. We never saw him. I was almost like a single parent. He came home tired where I unloaded the bad behavior of the children. So he was left to spend his minuscule time home disciplining kids or nodding off on the couch while we tried to spend quality time together.

Now we get at least four full days a week off together. We get two weeks of vacation together a few times a year. We take three-day, mini vacays once a month. We rose above the opinion of the status quo and made our happy happen. Instead of us both working ourselves to death we found a way to divide the workload. They say parenting is hard, and yes, it used to be, but now it’s enjoyable. Work used to be so much harder because I fulltime parented basically alone and worked, but no longer. I have never been more content, rested, or relaxed in my life! And that’s with a “deadbeat dude” with me.

I say, no deadbeat here, but I do have an amazing, supportive partner who has the same dreams in life as me. We dream of a happy, relaxed life where you enjoy your children and life with them. A life where you’re not stressed and exhausted. We are truly living that dream. And you know what? I don’t care what anyone thinks of that.