Watering the Grass

Anytime I begin to think about when and where Bobby and I met, that thought is immediately followed by this thought: “I can’t believe we got out of there alive.” Bobby and I met at a faith-based program in Phoenix, where the expectations were unrealistic, where the pressure to maintain a certain image was overwhelming, where we were daily reminded of the strict and intense rules, and where frankly, the theology was whack.  As if it wasn’t hard enough to live up to and muddle through those standards as an individual in our first year there, it became increasingly more complicated in our second year when Bobby and I were finally “allowed” to date (as if it was really anyone's business to tell us not to-they hardly knew us).  Someday, if I can figure out a way to articulate my thoughts and experiences about my time there, I will, but for now, I’ll tell you that when Bobby and I finally realized that we needed to get out of there, we were burnt out, frustrated, and glad to be free from the demands and unhealthiness of that program.

This past winter, after six years and three months of marriage, Bobby and I realized that our dating experience had been so unlike a “regular” couple’s dating experience, and because of that, there were some places in our marriage that needed attention. We didn’t get the time together at the very beginning stages of our relationship that others do, to have fun, get to know each other like we wanted, go out to dinner, and to make-out in the car without feeling like were being watched. We realized that we needed to start over, in a way. We needed to try and re-get to know each other without the pressures of that program, without the expectations, and without fear of making a wrong move. That realization was both painful and freeing all once.

Here we are today, nine months later celebrating seven years of marriage. Our life together is far from perfect, but we've come a long way since we got married on September 3, 2005. Hell, we've come a long way from those dark days last December. We’ve got two beautiful kids, a life that we don’t deserve, and the feeling we’re going to make it, because honestly, if we could make it through six moves, two kids, job losses, anxiety and depression, hard realizations, and that program, all under a decade of being together, then I feel like we’re going to be alright.

These first seven years of our marriage may have had the theme of "getting out alive," but here’s the thought I carry now:  “The grass ain’t always greener on the other side, it’s green where you water it.”

That mentality, to me, is the only way to have a thriving, growing, and healthy marriage.  When Bobby and I stood at the altar seven years ago, and committed our lives to one another, we took that seriously, but we also had no idea how hard marriage was going to be. There have been, and will continue to be, opportunities left and right to quit. We’ve faced some tough days, dark seasons, and hard challenges. I know now that that is part of what comes with marriage, and if you expect anything different, you’ll be let down very quickly.  But, water your grass with what’s true, instead of comparing and hoping for something else, and you’ll see those green sprouts start to pop up. We've been working really hard to water our grass.

Today, looking back at where we met, in that bubble of intensity, I realize that we desperately needed each other. That we were each others saving grace. That without having each other during that time, we wouldn’t have survived that program. Though we may not have had a “normal” dating experience, it was a great  foreshadowing of the kind of love that we still share today: One of companionship, protection, commitment, hope, and promise.  Those things are what we started to water our grass with then, even in the most trying of beginnings, and those are the things that we will continue to try and water our grass with now, and in the future.

My heart was Bobby’s then, and it still is now. I would gladly, willingly, and happily give it to him over and over again.  I’ve found someone to water the same grass with, and though our grass may be brown and dry one season, and bright green in another season, it’s our grass. I don’t want anyone else’s grass no matter how good it may look. 

Here’s to the future, no matter what it holds. Here’s to the ongoing commitment to water our grass. Here’s to the story that started unfolding at that crazy program in Phoenix.

Happy 7^th Anniversary, my darling- I love you.