Interestingly, I thought I had conquered most of my issues with being, well, uh, ’submissive’ (*shudder*). Clearly, not so.

When we got married, I actually changed our vows so that I wouldn’t have to say ‘love, honor, and obey’ to ‘love, honor and cherish’.  Cherish, I could do.  Obey?  Hello?  What century are we in?

Yes, I get that even businesses need the one person to lead, to take the authority, to be the final answer.  Really.  I get it.  Kinda.

It was just that being raised in the 70’s and 80’s…well, I just didn’t get why my husband got to be the leader. 

God worked on me (as he tends to do when I am wildly wrong about something), and over the years, I started to figure out what being submissive meant, more or less.  It kinda grated on me, though, the whole idea of being under Casey’s authority.  I mean, who made him the leader?  (I can hear the more spiritually mature wives either chuckle at this or shake their heads at me.)

I liked the part about it where Casey was going to have to answer to God about stuff, and I liked that he was responsible for decisions and the outcome of those.  And I guess I mostly worked with it because I didn’t disagree with him on big decisions much.

Until now.  I had a moment yesterday when I flat out told him I wasn’t going to do something he thought we should do (in regards to our kids’ schooling).  It felt awful and selfish and, well, awful.  I can’t ever remember openly defying him like that in 15 years of marriage.  And I know he’s right, I just don’t like it.  His choice requires personal growth on my part and I am not a fan of personal growth cause it’s painful and has no guaranteed outcome (unlike birth, where you at least get a cute baby at the end).

I thought I had come so far on the submitting thing, but it turns out I haven’t.  I still cringe when I hear sermons about it in church, and even just hearing the word ’submit’ gives me a bugs-crawling-all-over-my-skin feeling.  So, it seems that I may have a grasp on it mentally, but it hasn’t fully made it’s way into my heart.  Ugh.

© 2010, melissa caddell. All rights reserved. If you steal my stuff, I will also be really, really mad.

Fifteen years is (and isn’t) a long time.  When you’re 22, I guess it’s a pretty long time.  It’s long enough to shape a few dreams, let go of a few, pursue new dreams.

It’s enough time to grow a marriage, a family, and start a life.

Fifteen years ago today, I looked up into Casey’s eyes and gave him every bit of my heart, my life, and my future.  These are the vows I spoke to him on January 1, 1995:

Melissa, will you vow to love, honor and cherish him as a gift from God? [I Will]  Will you vow to encourage him and to pray with him and for him daily?  Will you vow to work beside Casey to create a home that is a witness of God’s love? [I Will]  Will you vow to be his best friend and companion ’til the end of time? [I Will]

[Exchange of rings]
Casey, I give you this ring as a lifelong reminder of my unending love and devotion to you.  With God’s help, I vow to love and encourage you, respect and honor you, and to affirm my love for you with a kiss each day.

Of course, I had no idea what I was getting myself into at the time.  You never do when you stand there in a white dress, full of love and hope.  But I promised to stick with him until ‘the end of time’.  We constructed our own vows and I choose that line intentionally–young love just seemed to full to end ‘when parted by death’. I think this gives me permission to haunt him if I go first.

We’ve had a great first 15 years together.  We have 3 spectacular children (I’m allowed to say that–I’m the mom) and a comfortable life that is rich with family and friends.  There have been times when I have been so mad at Casey that I wanted to leave him, hurl insults (which I have), or poke him with something very, very sharp.  But mostly, I am enourmously proud of him.  Because we got married so young, I feel like we’ve grown up together.  I have watched him struggle to find his way as a man, and as the man God wants him to be.  I have seem him take scary steps.  I have seen him standfast when it would’ve been easier to relent (sometimes to me). My respect and admiration for this man I choose to link my life to grows as I learn more about him. 

I think what has sustained us through the turmoil that 15 years brings to anyone’s life is that we face it as a team.  We agree on the big things and work to respect each other on the not so big things.  We know that the ‘D’ word is not an option–we don’t even joke about it.  I understand that I can work through whatever my irritation is, or I can live with it for the next 60 years in misery.  That shapes my thinking about the struggles we face and forces me to work towards a solution, sometimes very painfully (I am an inherently selfish girl, turns out).

We’ve made some dramatic changes in our life in the last few months, and I suspect that we have a bit of a rocky road ahead of us.  The next 15 years will prove to be an interesting adventure, I’m sure.  Glad I’ll be working through it with my best friend.

© 2010, melissa caddell. All rights reserved. If you steal my stuff, I will also be really, really mad.

The Darling Husband was out-of-town a bit this week. He doesn’t travel that often anymore (only a few days a month), but it is surprisingly disruptive when he does.

I miss him when he’s gone. Aww….isn’t that sweet? I suppose it would be if it were just his person I were speaking of but, sadly, it’s all about me. (Though, my toothbrush does look sad and lonely sitting by the sink all by itself…).

The man is seriously plain, stinkin’ useful (in addition to being cute). It takes me FOREVER to get the kids into bed by myself, and then I still have the kitchen to clean, coffee to make for the next day, doors to double check, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Hopefully, no one has a lesson or class in the late evening that I then have to find a way to get the Terrible Toddler to bed on time and still get the other child picked up/dropped off.

He says he doesn’t like to be away from us. My only thought is: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? I just can’t see how not having to be concerned about anyone else is something NOT to look forward to. Can you imagine flying all by yourself, no kids to entertain or fear that the baby is going to scream/poop/kick the seat the entire flight? No wrangling yourself to try to get the lost lovey/book/toy/sippy cup that has rolled under the seat in front of you where the passenger is gritting their teeth over hearing “Itsy Bitsy Spider” for the thousandth time? Yeah, that’d be a total bummer…

Then, he says he doesn’t sleep well in the hotel. I can imagine how all that peace and quiet could really interrupt a guys’ sleep. Not quite as well as a teething toddler, restless kindergartner, or kid with nightmares, though. Trust me.

I’m trying to comprehend his complaints, but I just don’t get it. Yes, I love the comforts of home, but I can sleep just fine all night, all by myself pretty much anywhere. And read a book (no pictures) and drink a latte as I sit in my lovely airplane seat, all alone. Ahhh…..

It occurs to me that he might actually LIKE to be away from all the chaos we call our lives but just lies to me about it so I don’t secretly hate him for it. I guess if he hummed while he packed and sprinted happily for the door I’d have to hurt him.

Hmmmm…yep, that would make me mad. Better to be incredulous then mad.

© 2008 – 2009, melissa caddell. All rights reserved. If you steal my stuff, I will also be really, really mad.