Ten Years

Ten years ago at this moment my hair was done, my makeup on and my friends were circled around helping me step into my crinoline and slide in to my a-line wedding dress.

I was twenty years old. Bright eyed, toned, happy, optimistic, full of love, joy, confidence. I couldn't wait to hear the music start and begin the walk down the stairs of the old antebellum mansion we chose for our wedding ceremony. It wasn't the Catholic wedding ceremony I had envisioned, but given the pending deployment for my then fiancee and a 6 month adjustment to the wedding time frame, it was perfect.

I remember shaking as I waited alone at the top of the stairs. I made my way down the staircase where my dad and step-dads stood waiting to escort me down the aisle. As we reached the end of the aisle and I looked at the man before me there was no hesitation in mind. My hands stopped shaking the moment his hand held mine. I listened to the readings. They were ones I had chosen, but I heard nothing. I just looked at him, falling more in love by the second.

When the time came to exchange vows, I remember being elated when I said the words "I take you to be my husband". My husband! I loved it. I couldn't believe it. This man was mine to share my life with. In good times, in bad times. Happiness and sorrow. Sickness and Health. All of those things. We were going to do them all, conquer the world.

In the last ten years, the world has done it's best to conquer us. As babies came, loved ones died, we moved houses, cities, jobs.... We've seen our fair share of good times. We've seen our fair share of bad times too. The last 18 months being the peak of them. And while this anniversary was bittersweet, it hit me, "As rough as things have been, we're still married. I'm still here."

Now ten years the wiser, here's what I'd say to my 20 year old self on my wedding day, or to anyone on their wedding day:

You and your spouse are taking the very first steps of an ultra marathon today. Today is the pre-race warm up. You look great. You look prepared. You're nervous and scared. You're excited and confident. You can't wait for the party at the end, for the pictures, for the food. You're ready. When you cross the start/finish line, you're taking part in a race along a course that is known, but unfamiliar.

There will be peaks, valleys and plateaus. You are going to have bursts of life and energy during this marathon. You will feel unstoppable. When you say "in good times..." You have NO idea how great those good times can be. There will be times that are so good that you can't stop smiling and laughing. Like there's a great secret that only the two of you know. You will feel joy like you've never ever felt in this lifetime. Joy that surpasses the kiss at the end of today's ceremony. You will experience elation in things you never imagined to a level you never dreamed of- the ultimate runner's high.

Likewise, when you say the words "and in bad times" you cannot yet imagine how bad the bad times may be. You will also experience sadness and grief and sorrow. Unlike anything you've ever imagined. As you grow older, you lose loved ones along the way: friends, coworkers, parents, maybe even children. It rips your heart and soul out and leaves you unable to breathe. You watch your finances get stretched thinner and thinner until there's nothing left but your tear stained budget. You will want to quit. You will want to give up. You will be left feeling as though you can't take another step in the ultra-marathon you're running. You'll hit "the wall".

If you're blessed with children, you'll experience love like you've never known. And frustration you can't imagine. You will hold your newborn child for the first time and for the first time you'll know what it is like to love as God loves you. Things you may once have shied away from will captivate your conversations: breastfeeding, poop, potty training, tantrums. You'll be full of love and excitement while being completely exhausted with nothing left to give. Then you'll see your spouse and somehow, somewhere you will need to find just a little bit more to give.

Your marriage is a fortress that will constantly be under attack from anyone and everyone. Your married friends going through a 'peak' will push and pry and won't understand when you're going through a 'valley'. Your single friends will rib you and ride you about the ball and chain and how whipped you are. Your coworkers will encourage you to go out for girl's night instead of rushing home. Your former classmates will question how you gave up a career for changing diapers and raising children as a stay at home parent.

As time marches on, it will march across your face, your body and your marriage. Time can divide. Time can wound. Time can heal. Time can comfort.

Ten years from now, you'll only be a short distance in to the marathon. You may still be going strong on a runner's high. Or you may be hitting a plateau where things aren't bad or good but more or less things just "are". You might find yourself in the middle of a long, seemingly unending uphill climb. Or you may be praying you'll get to a point where you're starting that climb because you're currently in the middle of a downhill spiral. You don't know where you'll be, neither do I, but ask yourself this:

Are you prepared to answer the question 'Where will we be in ten years?" with the answer: "We're still married, in spite of it all."

If you're entering in to marriage with the hopes of finding happiness, you won't. If you're entering in to marriage with the hopes of finding completion, you won't. 

If you're entering in to marriage with the hopes of changing your spouse, you won't.
If you're entering in to marriage with the hopes of escaping your past, you won't.

If you're entering in to marriage with the hopes of living a fairy tale, you won't.

Marriage isn't about finding happiness or completion or changing someone or escaping or being a character in a movie. Marriage, true Catholic Christian marriage is about holiness. Doing everything you can to help one another in your efforts to achieve a life of holiness.

You will BOTH have days where you're not happy. You will BOTH have days when you're incomplete or indifferent or lost. You will BOTH have days where you want to change every little irritating thing about your spouse. You will BOTH have days where you not only want to escape your past, but your present, and your future. You will BOTH have days where you feel like you're starring in The Notebook and BOTH have days where you feel like you're starring in Kramer vs. Kramer.

Today you'll stand before God and everyone and say "I take you to be my husband/wife in good times and in bad. In sickness and in health. In happiness and in sorrow. For richer for poorer. For better or worse. To love, honor and cherish all the days of our lives until death do us part."

You may say what's above, but what you're really saying is this: "When you're going through a pregnancy or a miscarriage or depression or alcoholism or cancer, I will be there. When you've lost your job, we are broke and the job market sucks, I will be there. When you've lost 15lbs and worked your ass off at the gym I will be there. When you're covered in baby spit-up and the house is a disaster, I will be there. When your parents are sick and dying, as scared as it makes me about losing my own parents, I will be there. When the kids, the dog, the phone and every other thing have pulled you in a million pieces, I will be there. I will be praying. I will be loving. I will be forgiving. I will be kind. I will be patient. I may not like you all the time. I will not like you all the time, but I will be there and will love you. When you are least likeable, least loveable even, I will still be there. I will be there praying. I will be there waiting. I will love you. And I will still be there."

Marriage is hard. It's hard when everything is going right. It's work- it's work when everything is going right. It's even harder and even more work when it seems like everything is going wrong. That's when those vows come in to play. That's when the path to holiness outweighs the path to happiness. If you want happiness, you won't find it. You'll join the other half of married couples who ten years later aren't still there. If you choose the path to holiness, you'll find the road traveled is a difficult path at times, but you're up for the challenge, because you know you're going to get over "The Wall". Just keep trying. Just keep carrying that cross. You'll struggle and suffer and might even die a little (or a lot) inside, but on the path to holiness all things come out resurrected in to something far greater than eye has seen!

As you prepare to run the marriage marathon, remember in good times and in bad, sickness and health, happiness and sorrow. For richer for poorer. For better or worse. God is there. He will always be there. He lives in you. He lives in your spouse. It will take all three of you for your marriage to last. It will take all three of you to stay married. With your eyes set on achieving holiness instead of happiness within your marriage, whether it be ten years or forty years, you will still be there. Knowing what I know now, living what I'm living now,  I can say, "I'm still here." It's hard. It's hard every day. Currently the happy, the good, the better all seem overshadowed by the sorrow, the bad and the worse, but we're still here. We're still married. We still celebrated ten years of marriage. Ten years of going through the suck. Ten years of diapers and crying babies. Ten years of laughter. Ten years of tears. Ten years of hurt, anger and fear. Ten years of love, life and joy. Ten years of falling and failing. Ten years of getting back up and trying again. We're still here.