Safe

Some friends of mine are getting married, and the bride went dress shopping yesterday. I thought about her while I worked and remembered my own dress shopping day...and all the other hurried planning we did in our 2 month engagement. I glanced back through the old blogaroo to see what was happening a year ago at this time.

I read through my post on how the wedding wasn't going to look like what I always envisioned it would but also how I loved the story just as it was and would happily trade everything that deviated from my careful script for the reality of being privileged to know this love.

And that made me think about this almost first whole year of marriage. Not the wedding, but the marriage. The thing I dreamed about and planned for and prayed over and tried so hard not to mentally script - so it could come into play just as God intended, not as I manipulated.

And this is what I landed on...and I wanted to share with those of you who are not yet married...as a challenge for you to cultivate this someday, if you do marry. And I wanted to share it with those of you who are married but who might not make this a priority...yet. It's one of the greatest pieces of our marriage, and I would love for you to find it in yours.

Safety.

In many of the books I read before I got married, the authors encouraged the wives to create a safe home where there husbands could dwell. A home where a husband could know that his heart was not under attack. A place where he could speak without being cut down. A place where he could be vulnerable in every way and know he was unconditionally loved.

I guess the fair thing would be to ask Ryan how successful I've been in creating that for him, but today I want to focus on how he has done that for me.

Getting married at 34 meant I had a lot of time to prepare...and I think I used that time well...but it also meant I had a lot of time to become accustomed to being alone - and sometimes being alone meant no one had to see the awkward and the ugly. If I had a bad night, I could have a world-peace-level cry all over the house and the only offended party would be Braeya. If I had a fat day, I could throw on a sweatshirt and no one was the wiser. {Again, except Braeya.}

Being married and having someone sharing every part of my living space with me meant getting vulnerable about those things which have always been private. It meant making a choice about whether I would become a masterful actress and cover the truth with what felt appropriate...or become transparent and let my raw heart be exposed.

It was a scary choice. The only time I'd allowed myself such deep vulnerability before, my heart was hurt...and the scars remained.

And that is where Ryan's grace made all the difference. In this past year, he's seen it all. He's seen the fat days when I'm embarrassed to even look in a mirror. And he shakes his head, kisses my nose, and calls me beautiful. He's seen the ugly cry meltdowns {sometimes over nothing} and pulls me up close to him and holds me there until I have calmed to sniffles. He's seen my unkind spirit and while he has been good to challenge me in adjusting my heart...he has also done so without condemnation.

That safe place? It shines through in our marriage. 

People say we're like old souls. That we seem as though we've always been married. And I love that.

I love the safety net. I don't take it for granted. I've been in places before where it did not exist. I'm grateful he has extended it to me and I pray that he feels the same safety returned from me.

And for you, my friend, if you have a spouse now...make home a safe place. Make your love a safe place. And if you aren't married now, but you someday might be...tuck this one away for that time. It makes all the difference.