THE MARRIAGE MIX

Josh and Mandy Wright have been married for nearly 11 years.  They live in St. Louis, MO with their three children.

What keeps you committed to your spouse when things get tough (past or present)?

He Said:

Mandy and I have been together for the entirety of our adult lives.  It’s hard to even conceive of me independently of her.  Any circumstance in which I can imagine myself that doesn’t include the sharpening and refining and encouragement of a relationship with her seems incomplete.  The volume of life that we’ve lived together is like ballast that keeps us from capsizing.

She Said:

I know that even though being paid attention to and flirted with (by someone new) might make me feel alive for a moment, it wouldn’t bring me real, lasting life.  I trust that God wants to breathe real lasting life into me through this marriage.  I really believe that He wants me to experience intimacy and peace and protection and acceptance through Josh.

Is there an area of personal growth that you need to work on in order for your marriage to thrive?

He Said:

Yeah.  There are a bunch, actually.  I should be more selfless—more concerned with what I can do for Mandy than what she can do for me.  When we do have conflict, I wish that I could be less worried about “winning” and more interested in communicating honestly and effectively and loving Mandy well.

She Said:

Where do I even begin?  God is constantly showing me how I sabotage my desire for intimacy by the way that I treat my husband.  Because I am so comfortable with him, he often gets the worst side of me.  If I’m frustrated at a situation or circumstance I often take it out on Josh.  What I would like to do is stop and articulate the real issue to him so we can deal with it as a team. But,  for example, if I have had a really rough day with my kids, when Josh comes home from work, instead of revealing the fact that I felt like a total failure all day and I need his encouragement and guidance, I’ll choose to be rude and say things like, “You have no idea what its like!  You don’t understand me at all!”.   Instead of addressing my own feelings of inadequacy I bring up any ways that he has been unavailable to me, leaving him to feel confused and isolated as a result.  It is hard to be vulnerable, to talk about areas where I feel weak, but I have found that if I take that risk, my honesty is always rewarded by a supportive teammate.

Thank you Josh and Mandy for the thoughtful and honest answers that you gave to my questions!  I appreciate all of the wisdom you have collected over the past decade! Thanks for sharing it with me and the folks who read this blog!

I am convinced that when we start looking for love, we can’t help but find it. So on Sundays, I share a recent story about where I have seen love at work in my community or my marriage.  You are invited to share where you have seen love working.

A few weeks ago I came home from a weekend hidden away with my sister and our cousin Betsy for our first adult girl’s weekend since the summer week-long slumber parties we spent at our house with bikinis and Caboodles.  When I got home, I saw a small package on my desk.  It was wrapped in the comic section from that morning’s paper.  And on top, written in big bold Sharpie Marker letters, “Welcome home Cara!  I missed you!”

To some this might seem par for the course.   A card or a small gift after a weekend away has become the norm.  To others it might even seem vulgar - wrapping a gift in the funny papers!  But to me, it was sweet, unexpected perfection!

The gift was the DVD of the film Slumdog Millionaire.  It is not unusual for Herb to eye something at Target or Costco that he knows I might really use or enjoy and then just toss it in the cart.  He is constantly thinking about me and what I might need or want.  But rarely is it presented as a wrapped gift.  It warmed my heart that he felt like taking a few extra minutes to turn an “I was thinking of you” gesture into a gift.  The comic papers, while a little bit of a funny choice to some (pun intended) were endearing to me, as I knew that is exactly how he had spent part of that morning.  It was totally Herb being Herb to use the funny papers.  In the past I might have been upset that it was not romantic enough - he did not realize that a real love gift was wrapped in beautiful paper, preferably something brand new and nothing in our collection of wrapping papers.  But love has been working its magic around here, changing my heart and my mind.   And I was happy to see Herb being himself and not the image of The Perfect Husband that he was begrudgingly wearing so as to avoid a fight later on about how unromantic his wrapping paper choice had been.  He felt comfortable being him.  Perhaps more miraculously, I felt comfortable with him being him.

Even still, this is not the part that felt like perfection.  It was those three words, “I missed you!”.  I turned to him.  “You missed me!  You have never said you missed me before when I returned from a trip!”  To some, especially to the men who read this, it is not surprising at all.  After all, I am the woman who just admitted that she is capable of getting bent out of shape over something like a gift wrapped in “unromantic paper”.   I would guess that this part is appalling to others; especially people who have never been married.  Those who are married, even if they have always been missed when they were away, can imagine what it might be like not to miss that person who has secret card key access to all of your hot buttons and soft, easily bruised places.  Instead, you might be able to imagine yourself, lovingly and dutifully driving them to the airport only to breath a deep sigh of relief when you see that not only did they just walk towards the departures sign, but they do not seem to be showing any sign of turning around and shoving themselves and all of their baggage back into your car!  It is not what any bride and groom set out for:  to not only be relieved but to be in desperate need of a break from each other, but for us it has been a part of our story.  A painful part, to be sure, but a part of our story nonetheless.

So, when I saw those words, “I missed you”, I was taken aback.  I knew they were not shared out of kindness or sensitivity.  He would not have written them down if he had not meant them.  He missed me.  I enjoyed reminding him of this for the next several hours.  And I fell asleep, tucked in by the knowledge that love had indeed been massaging our hearts, because he missed me and I was becoming the kind of woman he missed.

Where did you see love at play this week?

Conversations is written on (most) Fridays to examine someone else’s take on love and marriage – and then discuss what we think about it amongst ourselves!

When I first saw a photo of this sculpture by Edwina Sandys, it took my breath away.  And not in a “beauty and awe” sort of way.  More like a “someone just kicked me in the stomach and then stole my puppy” sort of way.  It looked so daunting and violent.  It looked like the artist was saying that marriage is a trick - that it looks like it will be beautiful and lovely but turns out to be harsh and dangerous.  I felt like it portrayed marriage as the ultimate hot bed of violence and violation!

Then I watched an interview with the artist.  I was expecting a woman from another part of the world, talking about being forced into an arranged marriage.  I expected to see someone dark and cynical and wounded.  But what I found was a woman in her 60’s – light and straightforward. She explained that she set out to demonstrate that marriage is both soft and cruel; happy and sad.  She said that this piece was meant to simply communicate that “marriage is not always a bed of roses.”

I don’t think that it is divided in this way - half beautiful and half painful – roses and spikes split neatly down the middle.  But I think many people think about the pain found in marriage this way.  It is almost as if some people believe that if you are very careful, you can figure out how to stay on the soft side of things and stay safe in your marriage.

I propose that marriage is indeed all roses.  Both beautiful and dangerous.  Fragrant.  And yet, when you get close, you might be pricked by a thorn.  Coming close to another means they will eventually hurt you because we are all beautiful, bumbling messes. There are days that the beauty may outweigh the pain; others when pain wins.  But who are we kidding if we believe that we ever go a day - a minute – without both pain and beauty being a part of things?  Who we are and what we do is informed by the ways we have wounded and been wounded; informed by the beauty we have both witnessed and created.  So even in moments of beauty, we experience the moment through the lens of someone who has also known pain.  And when we see pain, we know that beauty also exists and this informs the way we receive that pain.

You cannot have one part of marriage without the other.  You cannot have one part of a person without having the other.  The beauty and the pain is not something that we move in and out of.  We are in both of them at the same time, all of the time.

How did you respond to this sculpture?

from the flickr photostream of flo

Most days I check myself out in the mirror from the waist up.  If I really want to see what my shirt and pants look like together, I jump in front of the mirror that hangs over my bed so I can get a quick peek of my hips and thighs.

We have one full length mirror. On the inside of the closet door.  In the office.  I don’t go in there much.

Last weekend, Herb and I met up in Seattle with some dear friends who live in Detroit.   We stayed in a great little condo with what I prefer to call a “water-ish” view.  We were steps from the Space Needle and the Public Market.  The condo was decorated well and we access to a pool and hot tub.

We had a huge, full length mirror.  In the hall way.  Right outside our bedroom door.

After passing by the mirror a dozen or so times, I stood in front of it on the second day, scrutinizing my reflection.  Then I did the unthinkable:  “Herb?  Could you come here?  Take a peek at my reflection.  And then look at me.  There is something wrong with this mirror, right?  My reflection is really different than what you see when you look at me, right?”

Very sweetly, he pulled the bandaid off as fast as he could, “Um, no, I don’t see a big difference.”

He hugged me.  “I have gotten big.”, I said.

“We both have.”
I love him.

Later, in a tender moment, he looked at me and said, “I like you.  And your body.  Even if it is a little out of shape right now.”   Saying “I like you” is, I think, one of the best things I can hear from my husband in a day.  It means that he not just loves me, but he really enjoys who I am.  As I relished the compliment, I also cringed inside.  “Seriously?!?!”, I thought, “He could have left that last part off.  Has he ever met a woman before???”

This is where the terror of marriage comes in - being completely seen by another person.  Stripped of all protection and anonymity.  This is where the other person can swoop in and break us down, from top to bottom.  This is why we tend to protect ourselves - even, no, especially from our spouse.  So that they can’t see us.  Because if they see us, they might tell us the truth.  And the truth might destroy us.

Herb told me the truth.  But he didn’t destroy me.  Not in front of the mirror, and not in that sweet moment later on.  He saw what I couldn’t see and he told me the truth about myself.  I realized, we should all be so lucky.  In Herb, I have a mirror.  When he looks at me, he sees me.  All of me.  And not just from the waist up.  He has more than a quick glance at my thighs.  The truth is, we all have a pretty distorted view of ourselves.  If not distorted, limited.  In our spouse, we have the chance to see a more accurate picture.

He saw me.  He saw me all at the same time.  He saw my wide hips and my protruding belly but he also saw my smile and heard my sweet words and felt my strong arms around his shoulders.  Unlike me, who tends to judge all of me based on part of me, he saw all of me and then told me the truth about myself, “I like you.  All of you.  The way you are.  Right now.”

Josh and Mandy Wright have been married for nearly 11 years.  They live in St. Louis, MO with their three kiddos!

What triggers (past or present) your day-dreams about leaving your marriage?

He Said:

I don’t know that I’ve ever really thought too much about leaving my marriage—my daydreams are about what things would have been like had I never gotten married, or if I had gotten married or had kids later in life.  We were married and had kids at a very young age, and that has presented a unique set of challenges for Mandy and I to contend with.  When I dream about a change in my marital circumstances, the dream typically involves some path that avoided those challenges.

She Said:

I can’t say I really think about leaving my marriage.  Not because things have been sooo easy but because I know that God gave me Josh to bless me.  I really believe that, and my desire to receive those future blessings that He has for me and my family get me through the rough times.

When you think about leaving your marriage (past or present), what is it you want that you think you could find/have as a single person?

He Said:

Less financial stress, fewer impediments to the pursuit of my career and educational goals, more time to run and play guitar.  I think every man wants to be free, wants to find his fortune, wants to make a name for himself.  Any time you feel some insecurity or dissatisfaction relating to one of these ideals, it’s the most natural thing in the world to rationalize the discomfort by blaming your wife.

She Said:

Sometimes I think that it would be exhilarating to be doted over and longed for by someone; just like I was by my husband before he captured my heart.

from the flickr photostream of kh2rac

I was beside myself with sadness and disappointment on Friday afternoon.  After a conversation that left my head spinning, I felt like I might become physically ill.  This is not a common response for me.  I can name two other times I felt this way, and they both involved instances of people being deceitful or unjust.  Once, I had to pull my car over to throw up - an unexpected and involuntary response to some very unfair news I heard over the phone.  And though I did not throw up on Friday afternoon, I was emotionally untethered.  Neither by myself nor in conversation with Herb could I seem to regulate my thoughts or my racing heart.  I nearly called my fried Sarah to cancel the plans I had to drop in for a long overdue visit and time of catching up.

Instead, I drove myself, shaking, to her home, practicing in my head how I could most concisely and accurately let her know what was going on with me.  From the moment I sat down in her sun drenched kitchen, my heart rate began to slow.  Before I even arrived or told her that I was having a very hard day, she poured me a beautiful drink - apple juice layered with sparkling water.  As I eyed the amber colored fizzing glass, I knew I had made the right choice to keep my plans to visit my dear friend.  At home I drink water.  Sometimes I make a pitcher of water filled with sliced strawberries and lemons.  But I have never layered apple juice and sparkling water.  She had something I didn’t have.  Something I needed.

As she talked, I looked into her dark kind eyes and listened.  I let her soothing voice slow my racing heart.  As she spoke, my pieces and parts that felt like they were all coming apart slowly began to find one another again.  My stomach went back to its place, leaving my heart alone to do its work of beating and thumping at a steady pace.  As the sun shown through her windows, I felt more and more alive.

Her words gave me perspective.  And options.  They helped me think about how I wanted to handle the situation presented before me.  But it was more than her words.  It was the soft music playing.  The drink.  The gluten-free crackers lovingly spread with dairy free “cream cheese”.  It was the culmination of Sarah doing life in a way that reflects her gentleness and her depth.  She was not just loving me in the moment, she was living out of love.  She makes choices in how she lives, daily that create an environment that nurtures, supports, and empowers.  By cultivating these gifts, she is not just being true to herself, but also loving those who may cross her path in the future while they are in a time of need.

Where did you see love working this week?

from the photostream of yoshiko314

“Coffee or tea?”, the handsome British flight attendant asked us.
Guarding my tear stained face best I could, I told him no thank you.

The reality of his question only worsened my pain.  Herb and I were not just talking about separating.  We were talking about separating while on an international flight, heading home after a holiday in the United Kingdom.  If we are being completely honest, I was talking about separating while on an international flight, heading home after a holiday in the United Kingdom.  Herb was listening and trying to figure out what to do.

Nothing happened while we were away.  No secrets uncovered.  No cruel words spoken.  If nothing else, it was the overwhelming sense that our marriage was not what I had wished it would be.  It was too painful to watch how the wounds we inflicted on each other during our first days and months . . . and years . . . of marriage had created a dryness in our partnership that just did not seem to be satiable.

Hearing the question, “Coffee or tea”, in such a flawless, proper accent made me cringe.  It highlighted the sadness of our conversation and left me feeling completely exposed.  There was nothing proper about what was happening in row 36, seats D and F (luckily we had the entire row to ourselves, as we are not above having difficult conversations on airplanes, with strangers sharing our row); and by that time, my eye makeup certainly was not flawless.

But it was more than a reminder that what we were going through that sunny afternoon over the Atlantic was a painful mess - it was a reminder that life goes on even in the midst of our pain.  While I felt like the bottom was dropping out from under me, the sun was still shining, people were still sleeping, and flight attendants were still offering coffee and tea.  I wanted life to stop long enough for us to figure things out.  I wanted to resolve my pain that I hold about this marriage; everything it is and is not.  I wanted to be able to enjoy being asked the question “Coffee or tea?” in a smooth British accent, while flying over the Atlantic, without being distracted by big questions like, “Will my marriage survive?”.

It may sound trivial, but more than anything, the struggles Herb and I face in our marriage can be boiled down to being distractions.  They keep us from living our lives - together and individually - to the fullest.  It is impossible to stop and smell the roses when your damn nose is constantly stuffed up from sobbing uncontrollably.  And while some people would be most horrified that they were sobbing uncontrollably on an international flight, I am mostly sad that those moments of sobbing (and there have been many) have kept me and Herb from enjoying what is right before us.  The moment.  Our lives.  The simple offer for a hot beverage on an international flight home from a lovely visit with friends.

I have either cried or yelled (and often both) in four different countries and several states in the United States.  I have cried and yelled on airplanes, bicycles, pedestrian bridges.  In subway stations and the Caribbean Sea.  Worse yet, I have lost countless chunks of my life crying on my couch, bed, and kitchen floor at home.

I am tired of crying.  So, there I sat on the airplane, telling Herb that I wanted to move out for a while so that we could each heal a little from all the yelling and crying.  So that we could figure out a way to come back together.  But despite his statement of agreement in the moment, I knew he would not go for it in the end.  Not because he would miss me.  But because he knows he might not.  And that always reminds me that I might not miss him.  And so we stay.

Some might think that not missing each other is sign we should clue into: that our marriage does not work.  That one of us should leave.  We agree that it is a wake-up call.  Only instead of viewing it as a reason to hit the road, we view it as a reason to continue on.  We use it is a litmus test as to how healthy our marriage is.  When it comes out looking brown and pukey, we know that our marriage needs more work.  We choose to take this perspective for a few reasons.  Partly because of our commitment to the marriage.  Partly because he knows that if we divorced, I would tailspin into a cycle of shame and I know he would get lost in a spiral of isolation.  But also because we love each other.  Because we know it can work.  We know that so many of the problems we have had are not based on incompatibility or bad chemistry.  We know this because when we are not fighting, we are the best of friends and we have nice chemistry.  No, our problems tend to crop up around our individual, pre-existing wounds and issues; our baggage.  In fact, I would be so bold to say that Herb and I are actually perfect for each other.  In highlighting old wounds, we are able to push each other towards healing and personal growth.  We believe that marriage is intended for companionship and support and intimacy.  But also to shape us and mold us.  To heal us.  And mature us.  Herb helps bring up these needs more than anyone else.  Herb stands by me as I try to sort out these needs.  And so we carry on.

Maybe it sounds ludicrous.
But maybe it is true.

Josh and Mandy have been married for almost 11 years.   They live in St. Louis, MO with their three children.

What is the largest source of conflict in your marriage?

He Said:

Miscommunication.  I think that communication is actually something we’re pretty good at, but we still misread and/or have a hard time understanding each other pretty regularly.  It’s tough to get and stay on the same wavelength, especially when we both have a lot on our plates with work, church, and friends.   On top of that, we’re trying to contend with issues with the kids.

Money/Goal achievement is one, too.  We are both very goal-oriented people.  We have goals relating to things like the house we live in, our roles in our church, vacations, how fast we can run a 5k, and so on.  Because of the phase of life that we’re in, progress toward these goals is very seldom made in a straight line, and that tends to be frustrating, particularly because of our personalities.  Instead of commiserating over these conditions—which I think we’d both agree we’d prefer to do—we sometimes lash out at each other because of them.

She Said:

Lack of understanding and communication.  When he feels like I have no idea what he deals with in a day and I feel like he has no idea what a day in my life is like.  If we don’t take the time to try and understand one another’s perspectives we become more isolated emotionally and less sympathetic toward one another.  That is when we start functioning independently of one another, and then I start to see Josh as more of an obstacle than a teammate.

How do you tend to manage conflict?

He Said:

Mandy prefers to go toe-to-toe, I tend to be more of a “this too shall pass” kind of a guy.  I have changed quite a bit in this area since we’ve been married and am much more direct in addressing conflict than I used to be—one of the many ways in which I’ve learned from Mandy.  Open conflict is a lot scarier to me than it is to Mandy, but the fear of slowly drifting off course is much more real to Mandy than it is to me.

She Said:

I like to face conflict head on.  If there is some kind of weird vibe between us, I want to address it and talk about it.  This can be good because I don’t let things get bottled up but it can also be bad.  For example, if Josh is thinking through something that I said or did, he needs the space to be able to do that.  Sometimes, my desire to get it all out rushes him through that process and makes him feel disrespected.

So, you may have noticed that things have slowed down around here a bit.  Oh my!  That is certainly true and I am so sorry about that!  Herb and I were abroad for almost two weeks.  I was unprepared for the time it would take for my body to readjust after this trip, and then from there, life kept happening.  So it has been a month since you have heard anything from me.  But hopefully you are still checking in here from time to time!  Just know that I will have something posted here - written by me - by Wednesday night!  From there, I intend to return to my previous blogging schedule!  Until then, please enjoy getting to know this month’s couple writing for He Said***She Said: Josh and Mandy Wright. They married early in college and have spent their entire adult lives cultivating a healthy, dynamic marriage.  I hope you are as inspired and encouraged by them over the next four weeks as I have been!

Josh and Mandy Wright have been married for nearly 11 years.  They live in St. Louis, MO with their three kids Jonah (9), Emma (6), and Amelia (3).  The Wrights are members of Greentree Community Church.  Josh is a Financial Advisor with Edward Jones, and Mandy works full-time in their home.  You can find Josh here.

What has surprised you about marriage?

He Said: I was so young when we were married, I didn’t know what to expect.  It was all a surprise.

She Said: I don’t think that I realized that God wanted to use my spouse, more than anyone else in my life to change me.  He wanted to show me my flaws, hidden motives and self centered behaviors through my marriage.  I would have loved it if I could have been a perfect partner for Josh from the beginning, but that wasn’t the way it happened.  It was hard for me to see that when I screwed up I not only hurt myself but I also hurt my spouse.  I really hated that at first.  I see now that God wanted me to experience the need for forgiveness from another person.  I spent so much of my life making sure that I didn’t owe anyone anything.  I think God knew that I couldn’t give mercy until I had received it.

What has surprised you about your spouse?

He Said: She is very feeling and longs for companionship.  She is a strong woman—she thinks independently and acts courageously.  These were some of the qualities that I was most attracted to in her.  But she needs reassurance, too.  She needs to be encouraged.  She needs someone to be proud of her.  It was both a surprise and an honor to learn that she hoped to find these things in me.

She Said: His ability to forgive.  I am not so good at letting go of wrongs done to me, but I have received so much mercy and forgiveness from Josh that I am quicker to show mercy now than I was before marriage.