The messiness of marriage and parenthood

Valentine's Day brought with it cards, cake, candy, and tulips. It also brought declarations of love from my four-year-old and my own thankfulness for all of the morning coffees (and accompanying snack) that Matthijs has brought me on all these days I've worked from home during the pandemic. 

Even as I am deeply thankful for my marriage and parenthood, I also recognize that parenthood is hard. So is marriage. I laughed aloud at the following description that Stephanie Phillips wrote about her own relationship:

"My pronouncements of [my future husband's] perfection stretched far and wide, or at least to my meager blog audience, who were treated to glowing stories about his strength of character and witty repartee. The way I saw it, he had saved me from (shudder) a life of singleness as one of New York City’s resident Cat Ladies.

Then we got married, and had kids, and now those cats don’t sound so bad."

In a season when we've spent a bit too much time together and I sometimes desperately just want time alone, those words resonate me. 

Yet, I'm also thankful that not only do I still have the cat (who follows me around the house, acting as my personal heater in my cold basement office), but I have a family who patiently allows me space to struggle through the challenges of being human and grace for me as I learn better how to love them and extend them the same grace they extend me. 

Phillips describes her own coming to terms with the messy reality of marriage in the following way: 

"Some readers (and reviewers) — most, if you read the comments section of that review — would be more comfortable with the fairy-tale version of marriage that we believed in when we were kids; the one I unwittingly expected when my own knight showed up to rescue me from spinsterhood. But at some point (usually around the first time one of you farts, or during a sleepless night full of infant screams and threats of murder), the wheels do come off, which is to say that you actually begin to see each other. All of each other. This is when grace enters the picture, because sticking around becomes a choice when both of your flaws show in the marked relief of everyday light. Which feels reminiscent of another kind of love I know.

“Sometimes you fear possibility itself: the possibility of growing into something more expansive and generous than you are now, growing into a shape that might look ugly from the outside but feels beautiful from the inside,” writes Havrilesky, who is describing marital love but could be documenting my own interaction with God’s grace over the years."

For more of Phillips' words about marriage in response to Havrilesky's recent memoir, follow this link.

It takes a village

There is a well-known phrase that it takes a village to raise a child. The phrase suggests that a child needs multiple people around them in order to grow up well. But it's not just my child who needs a village: I, her parent, also need one.

When people ask me how I feel about being a parent, my response is positive: I enjoy being a mom to our little. And then I qualify my response: I enjoy it because I have people who help us out, and I'm not sure I would enjoy it as much if I didn't regularly have so much 'time off' from active parenting. I'm deeply thankful that the people at both her previous day care and her current one care for her and want what is best for her. And the little thoroughly enjoys going there. Matthijs and I have a wonderful friend who regularly watches the little most Monday evenings when I have to work. And I have friends and family who help me process what it means to be a parent: the exhaustion, the confusion, the frustrations, as well as the joys. And last, but not least, Matthijs and I share the responsibilities of parenting. And we share a trust that God is with us as we raise this small person that has been gifted to us.

Because the burden of looking after and raising the little is shared, I feel like I'm more able to delight in her presence when I am with her. Sometimes there is a struggle of how I can love her well while also taking time to do other things that I love and help others - but the struggle has been less overwhelming because of the wonderful village we have to help with the little.

Changing the colours in the chapel (and learning to communicate)

"Hello, this is Matthijs writing a guest blog. Brenda has been working on her PhD thesis for the past few weeks, which is now in the critical phase, and that means lots of other things move down on the priority list. Including this blog. This is why news has been scanty for a while now. 

 

For those of you who have no experience with completing PhD theses or anything of the sort (or spouses trying to do so): this is not fun. Almost everyone gets thoroughly fed up with their topic, having already spent years working on it. Writing up a defensible academic line of argument proves harder than expected. Supervisors are not always available for guidance or are not even interested any more. And, now that the end product slowly comes into view, matters that seemed less important now become more urgent. How will people react to the finished thesis? Will it be academically acceptable? Will it make any difference at all, and what comes next? In sum: will it have been worth all this effort, when the sun is shining outside and the grass is green, or have I been mad to start it all?

 

For all these reasons, in such situations spouses AND friends and family should be ready to offer support when they can, or disappear from the scene when they are standing in the way. Just so you know. In my personal case, the attitude that is required involves, among other things, understanding that what appears to be Brenda’s personal to-do list lying on the table is not in effect Brenda’s personal to-do list but mine as well, without being told so; and graciously accepting a bout of undiluted grouchiness when I do not appear to fulfil the tasks mentioned on the list, even though there did not seem to be any particular urgency to them."

from Brenda: Blogging was on the do list - and I wasn't expecting Matthijs to do that! but I'm really glad he did. It's been good to get to see things from his perspective. I hadn't meant to make it a communal to-do list - well, sort of - but it was more to make clear in my head what I wanted to be done and not so much a "you, Matthijs, need to do this" list. But, as Matthijs clearly points out, I didn't exactly communicate what was perfectly clear in my head. And I think that this learning to communicate well - especially knowing what is perfectly clear in my head but would be very much not obvious to the other - has been one of the greatest challenges of being married. At the same time, it has probably been one of the most important things I've learned. 

And as for the PhD, well, the stress is mostly related to my wanting to get it done, and NOW! Perhaps another day I'll write about that but for now I'll go back to working on the dissertion. I have a week left of working hard! (And tomorrow more on changing the colours in the chapel.) 

Searching for healthy perspectives on marriage and family

Awhile ago, it seemed like I was bumping into articles about marriage and family all over (i.e., in my feedreader and articles 'shared' via Facebook). 

Last spring, I wrote about how I generally disagree with the theory that the first year of marriage has to be hard.Over on Her.meneutics, there's a good article that echoes my thoughts about how every stage of marriage can and is good, even while it's healthy not to romanticize the challenge of learning how to love someone well. I especially appreciated the title: Just you wait - the idea that those "in the know" (people who have been married for awhile) should warn you only about the challenges of marriage without also sharing the wonders of it.

A good balance to the frustration of making marriage too hard is the problem of making marriage and family too much of an ideal. Taking pastoral counselling courses at Seminary had prepared me for the fact that marriage would have its challenges - and so when I got married that made me more able to deal with the hard things and more able to delight in the great things. Yet, nothing has really helped me handle how many Christians make family and marriage to be a type of unspoken ultimate goal for every Christian women. Two articles that I read address this really well: http://loturner.com/get-married-this-year-and-other-lies/ and http://thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/tgc/2012/08/28/worshiping-at-the-altar-of-family/.

Finding a good perspective on marriage and family, despite all the good Christians who are married, can often be hard. As the articles point out, there just seems to be so many ways that those of us who are married fall into the trap of thinking that we know what's best - either for other marrieds or non-marrieds :(

Sick :(

Matthijs is sick. He had 2 wisdom teeth pulled last week and is not doing well. The first day or two went fine (we even put a piano together the day after he got them pulled!), but then his face started to swell even more and he just feels lousy. He's been taking pain medication, ibuprofen to lower/stop fever, and sleeping extra - but it's not helping enough. Blech.

Neither Matthijs or I are sick very often. We're not very good at it, to be honest (Matthijs can verify how much I complained and whined when I had a broken foot last year!). I can see how Matthijs is frustrated that he's not better yet, but also how he's restless because he wants to be doing more and have more interest in the world around him. But he can't do anything more to make himself better than what he's already now doing, which is also frustrating. Maybe later today or tomorrow, we'll call the hospital again, but until then it's just a matter of waiting.

And I can't make him better. I can be patient, take care of more chores, make dumb jokes about him looking like a chipmunk (although laughing is sometimes painful, so too much humour is also not a good thing), be around more often (or less if that's also better), and so on. But I still wish I could do more, and I can only imagine that those dealing with much more serious illnesses must feel that desire even more strongly.

I do take comfort, though, in the realization that even though being sick is lousy, it is made slightly less lousy by having others around who care about you (friends, family and the community). And honestly, it's really nice to be married when you're sick. Although it's even nicer when you're not sick :)

the multi-functionality of a partner

Last week, Matthijs and I headed out on vacation for a few days (a visit to a friend in Munster, an exhibition in Dusseldorf, rest and relaxation in Nijmegen [Berg en Dal]). It was lovely - we saw a lot, got to walk and bike around tons, and generally enjoyed spending time with each other - and perhaps there will even be photos here (or on Facebook) in the near future.

Matthijs wins for having the best line of the vacation. As I was placing my tickets in his shirt pocket, he made a wry comment about how multi-functional partners can be. And I agreed with him completely (and for the rest of the trip continued to place tickets in his pocket). Considering how much Matthijs and I delight in each other's company in so many different ways, the concept of multi-functional captures that ideal well. However, "pack-horse" is probably not a function I should emphasize too much, otherwise I'll have to carry more of the luggage on our next trip!

The first year of marriage: does it have to be hard?

We were talking with a group of people about being married, and the first year together being the hardest for many couples. And it made me wonder if the first year has to be hard.

I know for many people that the first year is a challenge. Adjusting to living together can be hard, especially working through what unspoken expectations you have of everything - from how the chores get divided, to where the shoes get left, to the state of the bathroom, to how much time you spend together (and doing what).

And is it surprising that it'd be hard? Ideally being married means that you open yourself to the other person - become not only physically naked, but also emotionally and spiritually naked. It's hard to trust that the other person will still love you after seeing all your blemishes - and sometimes, despite how in love you might be, there can still be a lot to learn in terms of knowing how to love the other completely.

But does that make the first year of marriage hard by definition? I want to say no.

Part of my no is my realization that I've faced a lot harder times in the past than our first year of marriage. How about teaching 35 hours a week for 3 months? Or crying myself to sleep through much of high school? Or moving to another country not knowing the language and having no one within thousands of kilometres who knew you before you moved there? Compared to those moments in the past, being married has been nothing short of great.

And the second realization was the simple wonder I have that two broken people can come together and learn what it means to love and be loved. You get the chance (actually forced!) to see some of the hidden parts of who you are: the nasty parts because they hurt your partner (or you), and the unspoken expectations when you realize that what you thought was normal was not somebody else's normal. And confronted with this sudden self-awareness, you have the chance to let God work in and through the other person to heal some of the brokenness. Despite the fact that the healing process can sometimes be painful and scary, being healed is an amazing gift.

So perhaps it's not Matthijs I'm irritated with?

About a week into our trip in Canada, I woke up irritated with Matthijs. So I started sorting through the day before to see if I could find what he'd done to hurt, anger, frustrate or annoy me. In the end, I couldn't actually find anything. He'd been actually super supportive of everything happening in my family and had been extra patient and tolerant when we sometimes excluded him and/or made plans without him. So what was going on?

One of the most important things I have learned while being married is that sometimes when I'm irritated with Matthijs, it's actually because I'm frustrated, hurt, angry or disappointed at someone or something else. But because I live with Matthijs, it's not that hard to find something that he has done or said (or not done or said) with which I can be annoyed and thus I can take out my frustration on him. Being able to let Matthijs know when he does something that hurts or irritates me is healthy (and a little irritation in my life pushes me to do that when I tend to try too hard to 'be a nice girl' whom everybody likes)  - but it is also extremely healthy to realize that I might be projecting frustration from somewhere else onto him (and thus might be overreacting). It's also healthy that Matthijs is aware of this and tends not to overreact when I'm being unreasonable but instead gives me space to figure out what's going on with my frustration.

My waking up annoyed with Matthijs during our vacation was a classic example of my projecting other feelings on him. The fact that I was significantly annoyed with him was also a clue that I was projecting. What could be big enough to cause that kind of irritation? Even if Matthijs isn't perfect (thankfully), his love for me in the midst of a healthy relationship make it extremely difficult for him to make me that irritated any more. Instead, the real source of my frustration was the illness of my mother and my feelings of helplessness in not being able to have the answers or even help her more. Recognizing how ridiculous my frustration with Matthijs was helped me see more clearly how much he was being patient with me and supporting me in the midst of the challenges.

Married a year

We were joking the other day with an older couple and some newlyweds about how couples often fight during their honeymoon. We did, too. But if you asked me how our honeymoon went, I would have smiled widely and honestly said it was good. We were crazy tired, had had a stressful few weeks before the wedding and in a new situation. All things considered, it probably would have been strange (and unhealthy) if we hadn't fought at least once!

I joke sometimes that I knew what I was getting into when I got married. I knew that we would fight sometimes, and sometimes I would feel like I wasn't getting enough attention or support, and/or that I'd once in awhile feel like I didn't get to do as much of what I wanted to do when I wanted to do it. And so when it turned out that things weren't perfect just because we were married, I wasn't surprised. Instead, we took the time and energy to work out the kinks and meet the challenges of making two separate lives into a beautiful harmony. Sometimes I've complained to God that it was easier alone (to which, I expect He'd answer that I didn't take my chance to be alone, so I'd better get over it, stop my whining, and use my energy for better things - like communicating and listening well, as well as learning to be thankful!).

And now it is a year. And being married has been good - really good. Matthijs is good to me and good for me. And I can see that Matthijs also delights in me, which fills me with wonder. The simple goodness of being married - the joy I have of sharing my life with Matthijs - sometimes surprises me. I hope we never lose some of the surprise and wonder.

When the cat's away, the mice will play...

Or when the husband's gone, the wife will ....?

Matthijs is in Birmingham, England for five days at a conference (10 years after 9-11, peace and war and disarmament). And so I'm home alone, being tempted by all the things I could do while the husband is away...

- I could spend money! Those of you who know me well know that I'm one of the cheapest people I know - I seem to be especially fond of not spending money. But I have managed to spend 20 euros extra during his absence - and I was even the one who suggested we buy the concert ticket deal last weekend along with several books... but I think it's merely a healthy sign that I'm finally relaxing somewhat when it comes to money.

- I could let the cat sleep with me! I warned Matthijs that this was the natural consequence of his being absent at night. Unfortunately for me, either the cat senses Matthijs's disapproval even during his absence, or the cat's simply only interested in the bed if the door's closed and he can't get in.

And so instead, I'm just trying to enjoy the freedom of being alone: like eating lots of pasta and letting the laundry hang too long and the dirty dishes pile up and reading lots. And using the change of pace to get around to some of those things that I've been meaning to do for awhile (which has been moderately successful).

However, unlike the mice for whom the return of the cat causes problems, I'm happily looking forward to the return of Matthijs, even as I'm hoping still to get more of my projects completed! 

Different kinds of good

Shortly after moving here, Matthijs said that it was good to have moved to Amsterdam. And much to my surprise, I wasn't sure if I agreed with him. It wasn't at all that I thought that moving to Amsterdam was a bad idea - it was simply that living together in Den Haag was also good. And how could I say Amsterdam was good without making Den Haag sound like it was bad?

Not that life in Den Haag was always easy. And if I had to do it again, I think I still would have preferred Matthijs and I to be together in Amsterdam already last fall. I'd love to have done away with the stress of travelling and the tension and uncertainty that came with having our lives torn between Den Haag and Asmterdam.

And yet, it was good together in Den Haag. It was wonderful to delight in each other - having so much free time to do things together like cooking and playing games and simply being together. And it was good to work together through some of tension and the conflicts of loyalties that life in community can bring with it. And it was good for me to have some time to sort through again who I was and what I hoped to do and achieve. It was good to make a house together - to shape Matthijs's apartment into our house - and good to get to spend extra time getting to know Matthijs's friends and family better.

It was a longing for more (and the hope for new chances) that brings us to Amsterdam. And having made the choice together made it good. But what also made it good was that we weren't leaving a bad life somewhere else - we'd chosen to leave our good life in Den Haag in the hopes of something better - and with the trust that the 'goodness' that we'd built up in Den Haag would continue to grow with us.

Not quite home

Much to the delight of Matthijs and I, our apartment has quickly taken on a feeling of home. After a few days of work and some help from Matthijs's parents, all the boxes were emptied and things were put away. There could still be a bit more organising done (finding things can sometimes take awhile), and the delay with the internet was a bit frustrating, but these have not detracted from a general feeling of being content in our new place. The interactions with our neighbours (and the community in general) plus the sunflowers given to us by the Oude Kerk as a welcome have contributed to a sense of well-being here.

Yet, there's still a tiny feeling of not being quite home, which has nothing to do with the pictures not being hung on the walls. Both Matthijs and I are still trying to figure out what the new normal here is, especially in terms of our daily schedule. For Matthijs, he's now figuring out how often he'll commute to Den Haag (and how hard that is on him) and how well working from home goes. For me, I'm trying to create my own rhythm of doing research (how much at home and how much at the university?) and participating in the community (daily prayer and random conversations being an important part of that). Seeing as I've lived here before and participated in the community while doing research, I kind of assumed that the rhythm of that would come back to me.

The only problem is that even though Amsterdam (and being part of the community) was home for me, I haven't returned as the same person to that same home. The community has changed somewhat, as have I. My desires of research and community life are still present, but they've now been joined by the desire for a good marriage with Matthijs. And in Matthijs, I receive a gentle push to work harder on research and wonder about healthy boundaries with regards to the community. And eating at home with Matthijs and talking about our day now fills up time I might have earlier spent with the community. And as for daily prayer, it's a habit I've gotten out of - and it will take time and effort for that to become once again part of my day rhythm. Finding a rhythm will have take in all these changes.

And so Matthijs and I have come home to my Amsterdam and my community, only for me to discover that it's not quite home if it's only mine. Just as our apartment has quickly become home through our shared stuff and shared dreams, it is my hope that Amsterdam and the community will soon also become our home as we explore them further together and share our hope of serving God faithfully here.

Another perspective on my time in Canada

Matthijs summarized well what it was like for me to be gone in Canada: strange. There's certainly extra freedom involved when the other is gone, but after six months of marriage the most dominant feeling is one of absence. It is strange that what was once so normal is now everything but normal.

But Matthijs says it better, so I'll let you read it from him:
- for those of you who read dutch, I'll link you to the post: Lessons Learned: Alleen en weer samen.
- for those of you who don't read dutch, I'll give you a cleaned up version of the 'google translate' for the post:

"Alone and together again

Brenda is back!
The past two and half weeks, I was largely alone, i.e., no Brenda at home (only Jerry). A strange feeling. May 19th was our six-month wedding anniversary, and that was exactly the day when Brenda flew to Canada.
Now, I realize what a difference being married has made. Two years ago, Brenda was not even on the horizon, and so being alone was still standard. So this was what once was normal. Very strange! Especially the first weekend I felt quite out of balance.

Yet it was a full and interesting week. Some of the activities were:
- Arranging my study archive. You encounter everything: old papers, etc. It was strange to discover how little I understood until far into my study of systematic theology. For example, I was already in the fifth year before it became clear to me just how strongly Reformed certain assumptions of mine were. This related particularly to the idea that theological statements can come also from the tradition and not only from the Bible.
- Meeting of the VAK administration. The VAK is the alumni association of the KTU, my old theological college. I sit on the board, which is also an excuse to see two fellow students more regularly. Especially valuable was the drink in the café where we complained about the things that theologians always do. There was now more time - no pressure to go home. A recurring theme was how the church is full of wonderful ideals but when it comes down to it so few are made true. There ism, of course, still much more to say: the country is rife with unreliable institutions, but with the church it is always extra sad.
- Seeing Simon's new flat (again). It is a beautiful apartment, a huge improvement for him, and the move to it was a good family activity. Nice also to see our wedding picture hanging up there.
- Going on the road with Crystle, one of Brenda's best friends, who was just this week in the Netherlands for a sailboat race - good to have the opportunity to know each other better, because those opportunities are few.

All in all a rich, full week, despite some flaws.

 
But the most important lessons learned this week is yet how good it is to see Brenda again after 12 days."

and note from Brenda: I agree with him completely!!!! It was for me also a rich, full week for which I'm very thankful (it was also delightful to see our wedding picture hanging up at my brother's place!!). Yet, coming home again was probably the best part.

6 months

In honour of being married 6 months, the following are some wedding pictures:

Being married has been good. Life hasn't always been easy for us both in the last few months (nor was planning a wedding exactly stress-free :)) and sometimes things have been hard. It is a challenge to be ourselves while also making room for the other person to be him/herself. But it is a challenge and adventure that is worth every struggle: not only have we learned to be more comfortable being ourselves around the other, we've been delighted to discover more who God has made us to be.

Knowing that I am loved

I know that Matthijs loves me. It's obvious in what he says and does (and how patient he is with me). But I got to see another level to that love the other night.

Matthijs and I were sleeping on the top bunk of a bunkbed contraption (hoogslaper in dutch). At five in the morning we both awoke to a crash - and the first thing I hear from Matthijs is my name, clearly conveying his concern that my falling out of bed was the source of the crash. Thankfully it was only the cat knocking something over.

And I felt moved that when awoken from deep sleep, my well-being was the first thing that came to Matthijs's mind. His love for me is something that clearly goes to the core of his being, and knowing that someone loves me that much feels pretty great.

It's complicated

In its categories for relationships, Facebook has one entitled "It's complicated." When a monk friend of mine used that to describe his relationship status, I had to laugh: it definitely seemed fitting!

I just hadn't expected it also to be fitting for my relationship with the community. But at the moment, it seems that "it's complicated" is probably the best way to describe things. That I deeply care about those involved in the community and that I want the community to flourish has not changed. Nor has my desire to be involved in the growth and well-being of the community and those participating in it. But somewhere along the way, the relationship got complicated - and I don't entirely have words for how to talk about it, at least not in a way that I want to on this blog. And it has also meant that I haven't had the words to share my wonder and joy in living community, things that I miss talking about.

The role of community in my life is thus overshadowed by other things, the most significant being Matthijs's place in my life. Academics, Christianity, relationships and freelancing stuff play also a huge role, but my frequent mentioning of Matthijs feels nonetheless fitting - what with us still being newlyweds, after all.

love shows itself in many different ways

This morning at breakfast, I acknowledged to Matthijs that I had taken things out of proportion during our discussion the night before. Matthijs responded by telling me that he thought I did have a point.

And in those words to each other, I saw a glimpse of our love for each other - imperfect, with both of us admitting to making mistakes in how we relate to each other - but still with a strong desire to listen well to the other person.

And I also saw our conversation this morning as a sign that our communicating with each other keeps getting better - that we are learning better to speak and act in a way that is honest to who each of us is while also stepping back and trying to hear what the other person is hearing. And we are growing us a couple - getting more used to wondering what will help us both as a couple and as individuals to flourish.

It surprised me that this conversation was what made me think of our love for each other. Love shows itself in so many different ways, so why would I see this conversation as a sign? Perhaps because it is this conversation on top of so many other things - the laughter, the tea being made at breakfast, the supper to come home to, the games we play together, and all of the conversations - all signs of a love that continues to grow.

Going exploring for the day

Yesterday, Matthijs and I went away for the day. Just because we could :) We've been relatively busy in the last few weeks, especially in the weekends - and although we've had quite a bit of time together, we both longed to do something special together. And so we went out exploring for the day.

The original idea had been Gorinchem and Slot Loevestein - but we discovered that it wasn't open this past weekend (fortunately on friday evening before we were there!). So then the question was 'where to?'

And it was the village of Maassluis. Why? Simply because it was the city in my 'city guide book (ANWB)' that was the right distance away and sounded the most appealing. So we headed out with the train to see what adventure we'd meet.

And what did we find?
- We discovered that the only coffee sold in the train station in Schiedam is from a vending machine (you can also buy dr pepper soda and mini-potato salads in the vending machine).
- We saw one of the first churches in the Netherlands built as a Protestant church - it was built in a cross with each 'arm' being of equal length.
- We got to tour a tugboat - an old steam one - including a detailed explanation of how it worked (between my machinal knowledge and dutch language skills, I must admit to not entirely following it at times :)).
- We had cappucinos and shared a pancake at a local cafe (delicious).
- We saw the birthplace of Abraham Kuyper (and took a moment to honour it) - and then wondered what he would think of his birthplace being now the location of a Kruidvaat (a cheap drugstore).

And then we went home, stopping along the way to each fried fish (kibbeling) and check out a place where we might spend a gift certificate from the wedding.

It was a lovely day - a delight to discover a new place together. Perhaps this kind of adventure ought to become a normal montly activity....

Starting over again

Moving in....

It dawned on me today, after being somewhat exasperated by my lack of productivity, that I am once again starting over again. At least this time, it's only a change of city and not a change of land.
And the language is mostly the same, although the communication is at a completely different level. That comes with the new territory - the switch from being single to married - and the process of learning to share not only one's space, but also one's life with another.

The cat making himself at home

And starting over again means that I have given up my home and the place where I had mostly figured out where I belonged, and so it is discomforting and confusing at times. I miss knowing my place and knowing the routine and knowing where things go. I miss the routine of community life, most especially the daily prayers and coffee. And I'm not used to my new role within the community - that of being there sometimes, with my presence being more of a delightful surprise than something that can be normally expected. The feeling of welcoming has been great, but I still miss the comfortableness I had in being part of the normal life of the community. It's hard to know how to mourn these aspects well, when they are overshadowed by the fact that what I have received is more than worth what I have given up.

Making a home for my things
- and overruling some of Matthijs's stuff :)

I am in the middle of making a new home, of finding new places to put things (and hiding things on Matthijs and secretly stashing my stuff on the bookshelves - note the picture of Sint Nicolaas being overshadowed by my toy), and the cat is making himself at home. And we enjoy just being together - we still can't get over the reality that every day we can eat dinner together and go home together. And we've played lots and lots of games together (we even have more after the wedding!). And in the midst of starting a life together, we can dream together and wonder about how life can and should be now. That's a bit overwhelming at times, but it's also pretty amazing.

Somewhat dissheveled, but happy to be 'home.'

So as much as my heart longs for working on research, it's not surprising that it's also full of lots of other thoughts and feelings - and starting again is a bit harder than I expected. It's a bit of a disappointment at times, but it's probably also healthy.

Being a newlywed in Advent

As I was sitting in church this morning, soaking up the reality that this Sunday marks the beginning of advent, I started wondering what it meant to be a newlywed during Advent. When I think of Advent, I think of the idea of "already - but not yet" - a time of remembering that God's kingdom is here already, but it is also not here - and we long for a time when everything should be as it ought to be. So how does that fit with being a newlywed?

Being engaged felt a lot like being in an 'already-not yet' period. It was a time of starting a new life together, while still recognizing that it wasn't until the wedding that the new life together would begin. And the wedding was the day we were waiting for - even if some of the organization could be done before then (like moving some of my stuff) - and some of the celebrating had already started (I had friends and family visiting for a whole week before the wedding!), it was only on the wedding day that all the planning involved in having the wedding and family visit and moving and so on would be pretty much over. The anticipation of having all that planning and organizing done and finally being to able start a new life together made the wedding itself feel a lot like Christmas. So, how do I wait again, now that I finally feel like my time of waiting is finally over?

And my thoughts turned to how even if we're now finally married and the wedding is over, the marriage is just beginning. And learning to adjust to the fact that Matthijs's home is now also mine, and my cat is now also Matthijs's (we're not sure for whom this is the greater adjustment!) is challenging, as is building a marriage together that's good for both of us: learning how to be ourselves while making space for each other and trusting each other fully. As those things aren't always easy, it now sometimes feel like we're still in the waiting period - like our marriage is "already, but not quite yet" still. And that's where advent fits in well - this beginning of the church year, just like our new marriage, is full of hope that things will be good. After all, Jesus is coming, so how could it not be good?