When Worlds Collide

One last post in my wedding anniversary series this week.

July 7, 1984 - Littleton Bible Chapel, in Littleton, Colorado.

Keith and I stood before the minister and all our family and friends.

I listened impatiently as the minister talked about the symbolism of wedding rings. He said people often comment that a ring is round and has no beginning or end, and is made of precious metal so is strong and enduring.

But he wanted us to impress upon us that our rings say to the world and to us, "We have chosen. There are no other options. When hard things happen and dark days come, our rings remind us that we made a commitment before God and man to be husband and wife and there are no other options."

This was a happy occasion and I didn’t appreciate the minister being so negative. Didn’t he have any better advice for us on our wedding day?

I have since recognized his wisdom. He knew there would come a day when the novelty of being married would wear off and our wedding shoes would start to pinch.

We had been warned about the things that usually irritate newlyweds, like leaving the toothpaste cap off or not putting the toilet seat down.

Those things were nothing. But can you believe Keith wanted to sleep almost year round with the window open? And have a striking mantel clock in our bedroom that went off every blessed hour all night long? He couldn’t get over that I slept with socks on and tucked the sheets in different that he did. Then there's the whole Miracle Whip versus Mayonaise debate.

He made me get rid of the two big stuffed teddy bears I’d slept with before we got married. He said the stuffed leopard head that I’d had since my twelfth birthday and had used for years with great delight to play practical jokes on people, was ratty and falling apart and threw it in the dumpster.

He was restless and intense and battled depression. How had I missed that in the two and a half years we dated?

When he said when we were dating that he didn’t like camping, he meant that he didn’t like camping. Camping is the funnest thing ever. How could he not like camping? Or backpacking? Or not want to go to the Grand Canyon? Oh my goodness, what had I done?

I had been raised by a father who loved being outdoors. We took countless day trips to the river, ocean, lakes, state parks, local playgrounds, and berry picking outings. Scenic drives, taking time to smell the roses and stop at scenic overlooks or historical points of interest. We took numerous camping trips, even camping the entire summer of my fifteenth year.

Keith had been raised by a very nice man who was a traveling salesman. So when he had vacation, he liked to stay home.

We had different viewpoints on music, TV, books,finances,  housecleaning, parenting, and vacation to name a few.

I drove Keith nuts with my tardiness and spur of the moment ways. Mealtimes were whenever. Housework got done when I felt like it, which was usually before company came over. Laundry was hit and miss. He wanted order and routine and complained that no two days in our home were alike. I couldn’t for the life of me see why that was important.

The personality test we took ten years ago showed we are complete opposites. Surprise, surprise.

So what to do? Suck it up and make the best of it? Hope and pray the other person changes? Live in separate houses?

Time and time again, I hear those words in my mind, "You have chosen, there are no other options."

I know now that it is normal for there to be bumps when two worlds collide. We came from two different states, cultures, religious backgrounds, and socio-economic levels. We had different personalities, temperaments, interests, dreams, and likes and dislikes. It’s only natural that there would be some painful moments as we adjusted to each other and learned to make it work.

I know there is no one on the face of the earth who would make me happier. Because every person on this planet is flawed and if they didn’t have Keith’s faults, they would have their own. We aren't designed to find complete fulfillment in another person. God wants to fulfil and complete me. Only God can fill the hole in my heart.

So I pray for wisdom and patience and the ability to forgive. I try not to do things that irritate Keith, some days succeeding, some days not. I try to have thicker skin and not take offense. I enjoy the good days, thankful for the sun, knowing it won’t always be shining.

I focus on Keith’s good qualities. His simple, loyal, faithful, stable, steadfast ways. His ability to fix almost anything. His fun, loud laugh. His comfortableness with old people. His love for his children.

So when we butt heads or he growls about something I think is no big deal, I try to keep in perspective the big picture. That he’s a good man and has brought many good things to my life. That we’re committed to each other and God willing, we hope to finish the course. That this world is not our home, and one day we will be perfect people in a perfect place and the things that bothered us down here won’t be issues anymore.

Until then, we firmly believe through good days and bad that we have chosen and there are no other options.

When we said, "I do,"God said, "I did." And that’s good enough for me.