marriage – Yelco State of Mind

Clarity and the Responsibilities Which Come With It

As I sat in the pew every Sunday morning in church, I heard people pray for ‘clarity.’ As a kid, I didn’t understand what that meant. To me, life was simple—no responsibilities, no stakes. But as I grew older, I realized that clarity is one of life’s most sought-after yet elusive aspects. It’s what we crave when we’re faced with hard decisions and uncertain futures

I’ve had many moments in my adult life where I did just that. All I wanted was a clear path to form before me. I’ve been faced with hard decisions and made tough choices without having enough information present. What I wouldn’t have given for an “eliminate the worst option” or “freeze time” card that could have helped me along the way. Or better yet, why can’t someone just make the RIGHT decision for me?

There is no proverbial light bulb that goes off. You don’t just scratch your head until you have your “aha” moment. Clarity comes when the tangled web of your experiences and your chaotic glimpse of the future magically line up. It’s when you know something must be done in a specific way or in a certain amount of time. In the sense I am writing about, clarity is seeing the best version of a particular part of your life and an actual path toward getting there. It is more than just a moment of insight—it’s that instant when you know, without a doubt, what you need to do, whether it’s finally taking that job offer or walking away from a toxic relationship.

This struggle and the challenge of its brother, hindsight, are not new; they’re as old as time, as seen in the story of Cain and Abel. We all know the story, and I believe that, more than anything, it is a vital allegory about personal responsibility. When Cain sees his brother’s treatment for his hard work and sacrifice, he realizes that he would be getting the same treatment if he had willfully performed the duties asked of him. We’ve all been there to a certain extent.

Imagine finding yourself at the bad end of a situation and then realizing YOU are the one to blame. Everything on the test was covered in class, but YOU didn’t study it. Your transmission goes out in your truck, but YOU blew your money instead of saving it. Your boyfriend breaks up with you because YOU didn’t take the time to learn how he needed to be loved.

Hindsight is 20/20, but clarity happens when you learn these things before it’s too late. Unfortunately, it’s not always as easy as studying for a test or saving money. The problems of life come with layers and complexity.

My grandma always said to be careful when praying for patience or courage because the Lord won’t just give it to you. You’ll have to earn it. He’ll give you opportunities to practice patience and put you in situations that allow you to be courageous. Those aren’t always the most popular places or events to be involved in. I’ve learned the same thing about clarity.

There is a sense of comfort and security in the ambiguity of the future. If you can’t tell what you COULD become, COULD obtain, or the relationships you COULD cultivate, then missing out on them doesn’t hurt. You never saw them and can’t lose what you never had. You can blame outside circumstances, timing, or many other things that are not in your control. You can easily avoid blaming yourself.

Clarity puts the responsibility squarely on your shoulders. It forces your decisions and actions to align with a target. Missing that target has tangible consequences. It requires you to be the best version of yourself so you can be ready to accept the blessings when they start pouring in. It means making multiple sacrifices in the present for what you will obtain in the future. This can be a tireless and trying task. It’s not the carrot at the end of a stick. It’s what awaits you after navigating through the labyrinth.

Clarity is a powerful gift, but it’s also a call to action. It demands that we face the truth of our choices and take responsibility for our future. Whether we embrace it as a blessing or shy away from it in fear, clarity offers us a chance to shape our destiny. Either way, it’s one hell of a thing to experience. The question is: will we rise to the challenge?

Blades of Potential

Disclaimer: I always need to reiterate that if I write and publish it, I believe it. How we all apply it to our lives is the hard part. As much as I relate to these ideas, implementing them has sometimes been challenging. If this life can be “figured out,” I haven’t done it yet. Writing gets it from my brain to a place where I can think more clearly. Blog posts like this are a way to keep steering in the right direction.

I subscribe to a fantastic newsletter from Farnam Street called Brain Food. Here is the link if you want to sign up : https://fs.blog/newsletter/ The whole idea behind Farnam Street is to help you master the things that other people have already figured out. The weekly newsletter is a catalog of articles around the internet that help you see things through a different lens. A few months back, one of the feature articles reported from MIT on a study in which scientists were trying to figure out why razor blades were so easily damaged by hair.

If you’re like me, you’ve probably not thought much about the disposable nature of razors. More than likely, you buy a new pack when the old razors get dull. But when you think about it, it really is a bit odd that something made of stainless steel is damaged by something as soft as human hair. The article even mentions hair is 50 times weaker than steel, yet only a single piece can cause the edge to chip. Once one initial chip or crack is present, it becomes susceptible to more chipping, eventually causing the entire edge to become dull.

At this point in the article, I had an idea of what could cause the problem, but I wanted to read more to be sure. All I could think about was how our lives can be turned upside down, flipped around, and tossed about by small things that turn into big things. Sure, you can take a hammer to a razor blade and destroy it in a heartbeat, but more often, they get worn down over time until they eventually can’t work to their full potential. That sounds an awful lot like our lives as humans.

Here is a link to the article. Long story short, the team found three reasons that a blade could become more prone to chipping:

· The microstructure of the steel is not uniform

· The blade’s approaching angle to a strand of hair

· The presence of defects in the steel’s microstructure

I believe there are similar reasons we can become prone to “chipping” as well.

· Our foundation and governing principles are not uniform

· Our approach angle to our mundane, everyday tasks

· The presence of defects in our foundation (blind spots)

Developing our foundation and governing principles starts before we have any control over their creation. It begins with our genetics and parents, and over the years, other people come into our lives that help shape them as well. Friends, teachers, coaches, mentors–all have a huge role to play in our development. Eventually, we mature to a point where we begin to think independently, but our past relationships and experiences affect us in ways we couldn’t control, even if we wanted to.

Having different opinions on different topics is normal, but the things that we believe on a foundational basis are rarely if ever, changed. And if they are, you can bet it is a challenging process. When these principles are at odds with each other, they cause a rift, which leaves us as a prime target for internal conflict. “No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one and love the other, or else he will hold to the one and despise the other.” — Matthew 6:24-26

To remedy this, we must do some soul-searching and figure out what we TRULY believe. We must know who we are and be conscious enough to understand that we can’t fool ourselves. If our actions don’t align with what we believe, then there is no uniformity in our microstructure, and it’s only a matter of time before our foundation starts to crumble.

Those actions are the second reason we don’t reach our potential. We get so caught up in the “big” parts of our lives that the daily tasks and how we perform them get lost in the shuffle. Martha Beck coined the phrase, “How you do anything is how you do everything.” If she’s right, that is one of the most profound statements I’ve ever read.

Our life really is a whole bunch of little things done over and over again and sprinkled with the occasional “big” thing. A 75-year-old man may take 50 family vacations over the years, but he has dinner with his wife 18,250 times over that same period. Which one of those is more important at the end of his life? Doing the little things right can be tedious and mundane, but how we approach and attack them can make all the difference in the world.

Just like a blade can have defects in its microstructure, we, too, can have defects in our foundation. These blind spots can give us a false sense of how our world works. The great Persian poet Rumi said it best: “Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today, I am wise, so I am changing myself”.

The most significant defect in our foundation is denying the prospect that we could be wrong about something—or everything. When we refuse to entertain the possibility that our ideas can be tested–and even changed– we reject the opportunity to grow into our full potential.

Razor blades are disposable. It would make little sense to inspect each one at a microscopic level or study the effects of each shaving session on the edges of the blade. Our lives, though–they are anything but disposable. The great news is that if we create a strong foundation within ourselves, become open to learning and growing, and embrace the importance of the small things with passion, we can grow closer to unlocking our full potential. It may not make the pages of an MIT research magazine, but it will help make our small circle of influence exponentially better.

This Christmas

This Christmas, some people will sit around the TV and watch sports while talking about how nice it is to have a break from work. But others will be going into the new year hoping to get a call back from one of places they left their resume. And some will be patrolling streets, fighting fires, working the counter at a gas station, pulling a double shift at the hospital, or making sure we keep the electricity turned on.

This Christmas, some people will be surrounded by loving family in a home filled with joy, laughter, and excitement. But some people will be sitting all alone with no one to enjoy it with. Or on the open highway because they can’t stand the feeling of an empty house. Some wives will be sitting next to abusive husbands, trying their best to hide their pain from everyone else. Some men will be watching their cheating wives pass presents around for the kids, wondering how long they can hold on to a marriage that’s failing.

This Christmas, some people will pick up their grandkids or play football with their cousins. But some people won’t be able to pick themselves up out of their wheelchairs. And others will have just received horrible news about an inoperable tumor. Some people will be spending their Christmas day hooked up to ventilators or IV drips, and others will stare at the walls in a nursing home, praying they had family to come visit them.

This Christmas, some parents will take pictures with their infant as they soak in the experience of a child’s first Christmas. But others will be mourning the first holiday season without their child. Some will know that this might be the last Christmas with an aging parent or loved one, while others will have to muddle through the season with a fresh loss hanging heavy over their heart. Chairs that have been filled for years will be empty and many familiar faces will be permanently absent.

This Christmas, most of us will have access to a warm house, running water, electricity, and edible food. But many others won’t have any of these things. Some parents will endure fatigue, hunger, and their own well-being just to put a smile on their childrens’ faces, even if only for a moment. And some won’t have the means to even be able to that.

This Christmas, some will slow down and take stock of all the blessings present in their lives. And others won’t realize what they have until they don’t have it anymore. And since we will never truly know the full situation of our neighbors or strangers we may encounter, a little bit of empathy can go a long way.

The Science, no, Art of Letting Go

Fall is here, and with it comes the clichés of starting over, shedding baggage, and embracing change. I usually shudder when I see something like that, yet here I am, clutching the moment and coming to realizations that are a long time in the making. Maybe there actually is something unique to the archetypical, long-standing arrangement between the 4 seasons.

https://onlyinark.com/culture/top-8-fall-color-road-trips-in-arkansas/

For as long as I can remember, I have always felt like an analytical person. I usually perform best in structured environments where I know what to expect. If A, then B. Give me a checklist and what you expect from me, and you can almost bet I’ll produce. I really liked Math in school—once you figure out how to do it, you can always arrive at the correct answer.

I realized a trend recently in my life. It seems as though I like the challenge of trying to figure out a way to apply structure and rigidity to things that don’t usually fit inside of a box. I tried this with the car business. No two people are the same, and no two car deals play out the same, either. I tried to eliminate all of the variables and create a process that worked the same every time. This isn’t a new thing in the industry, but I think I did it pretty well, and it was definitely my favorite aspect of the business.

https://insights.dice.com/2019/09/20/mathematicians-list-hottest-job-titles/

I tried to do the same thing in my marriage. If I do this, this, and this, then surely that, that, and that will follow. It’s an excellent way to keep things predictable and stable for a short bit of time, but I don’t think that strategy would work in any marriage over the long haul.

This year I have had to let go quite a bit—more than any other year to date. And, like most other things I have encountered in life, I subconsciously tried to deal with it from a scientific, or analytical, frame of mind. What I’ve learned is that letting go is no science at all. It is the art of all arts.

https://www.insightsassociation.org/article/art-vs-science-market-research-battle-we-can-win-win

I never will forget a conversation I had with my dad while my mom was dying. We were near the end of her stint in a long-term rehab center, and I was frustrated because no one was giving me answers. I tried to get the doctor to call me for days and kept getting the run around from the nurses. Dad had mentioned something about them recommending hospice care, and the tone of his voice made me realize that he had seen the writing on the wall. This was the first time I had considered that my mom could die and probably was dying. He later told me something along the lines of, “I was wondering when you were going to accept that she was dying.”

That only began the process of letting go of mom. I had spent months watching her health decline but always believed something would change and she would end up being okay. I always thought she would walk again. When we moved her to hospice, I had to change my whole frame of mind. A friend at work suggested that I “release her.” That I tell her that it’s okay for her to leave. So, I did.

https://www.ewellnessmag.com/article/giving-the-final-gift-eleven-ways-to-help-a-dying-person-let-go

The night before she died, I kissed her on her forehead and told her how much I loved her. I brought the kids in one by one to say goodbye. I prayed with her and played her favorite song on the phone. She knew about the problems I was having in my marriage, so I assured her that whatever happened, I would be fine. I let her go. And then she died the following day.

There was no scientific way to get there—just some advice from a good friend and a leap of faith. Letting her go lifted an emotional burden off my shoulders and I’m convinced it helped mom let go of her earthly body. It helped her end her suffering and enabled me to start the grieving process.

I’ve also had to let go of marriage this year.

https://www.powerofpositivity.com/marriage-worth-saving-or-time-to-let-go/

I felt like I had done everything on the checklist the right way. I thought I had killed all the baby dragons before they became big enough to come to burn down our home. I had sacrificed some happiness, emotional health, and a whole lot of time in exchange for stability and security. The only problem was I didn’t ask for any help when I made the checklist, and she had one of her own that I wasn’t taking care of.

My analytical mind had told me that if I kept battling forward, eventually, the dam would break. Every time someone looking in from the outside told me that I needed to be done, it fueled me to keep trying that much harder. The harder I pushed, the further away from the prize I found myself. In the scientific world, force x speed = power. But in the realm of emotions, force x speed = distance created.

https://slidetodoc.com/lesson-5-4-power-essential-question-how-do/

I fought for a long time, too, man. I fought so much that I’m pretty sure I actually lost focus of what I was fighting for. I held on to principles, memories, and images of what I had envisioned for my life. I battled and battled because I felt like the kids deserved for us to be together. If I had gotten what I wanted, odds are we wouldn’t have been able to make it work anyway. Regardless, I fought hard—even though it was too late. At some point, I realized that I was only fighting for the sake of fighting. And the moment that crossed my mind, I let go.

I don’t regret fighting. I can live with what happened, and the experiences learned will make me such a better partner the next time around. I left it all on the court, and even after the buzzer sounded, I stayed around and kept shooting. I was still there after the lights went out and the crowd emptied the building. It sharpened my skills and made me better, but eventually, you have to jump back into a new game.

https://identity-mag.com/this-one-is-for-all-the-basketball-players-out-there/

For 38 years, I viewed “letting go” as if I were hanging from the side of a cliff, and to “let go” would mean a plummet straight toward the ground. Letting go is hard, and if you look at it through that lens, it is also scary and intimidating—free falling to your imminent death.

But what I’ve learned this year, I hope everyone reading this will take away with them. Sometimes, what you are holding on to isn’t as sturdy as you think. When you let go, you take a burden off what you are holding on to—like my mom and my marriage. And sometimes, that fall doesn’t always mean certain death. While you’re falling, you can see the world around you from a different perspective. New possibilities bring themselves to light. New pathways provide highways for new journeys. You meet other people who have let go as well, and you can fall together. If you embrace the fall, it can become a beautiful experience.

And maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll even land on your feet.

Mitakpa–Impermanence

I recently read a book entitled “The Comfort Crisis” by Michael Easter. You can pick it up here if you are interested. It is a phenomenal read and beautifully puts into perspective the relative ease of our current lifestyles and the somewhat shocking problems that derive from it. It is overflowing with ideas to research outside of its covers and I’m sure this won’t be the only blog post I write thanks to the abundance of interesting topics it covers. But one topic, more than anything, really resounded with me, and that was the idea of mitakpa.

Mitakpa is a Tibetan word that roughly translates to impermanence in English. When I thought about it, I realized that I was almost certain I had ever used that word and wasn’t sure if I had ever seen it come up in text or conversation. I had a feeling I knew the jest of it, but I looked up the Dictionary.com definition of it just to be sure.

noun

the fact or quality of being temporary or short-lived:

As taught by Buddhists, the idea of mitakpa is that everything born is subject to death and decay. They practice the concept by deliberately thinking about death and the dying process 3 times daily—once each in the morning, midday, and evening. You may be thinking what I was thinking when I read that. “Wow, what a miserable thing to do.” But when I learned how they expounded on that, it made a lot of sense both practically and philosophically.

They look at life as a journey towards a cliff in which everyone, inevitably, will walk off one day. It may be tomorrow, or it may be in 80 years, but one day it will happen. We have two choices regarding that cliff. We can either act like it isn’t there and be surprised when we find it, or we can acknowledge its existence and plan our course accordingly. It has real “one life to live” vibes but it hit me on a completely different level.

You can live a complete life without ever thinking about the cliff but imagine how differently you would chart your course if you made peace with the destination. I thought about who I was walking with, what we did along the way, and all the flowers I would regret not stopping and smelling on the way when I saw the cliff come into view.

I also thought about the people that chose to walk with me. Would they come to the end of their journey and wish they had walked with someone else? Was there something they wanted to stop and do along the way that I ignored while placing a higher priority on someone else? Good grief when you think about it, what an honor it would be for someone to choose to walk to the edge of that cliff with you. Am I doing everything imaginable to make their journey just as fulfilling as mine?

One great thing about youth is that, if you’re lucky, you don’t have to think about death very often. If luck continues to be on your side, you won’t have to deal with it much at all until you get older, more mature, and better capable of dealing with it properly. I was lucky on both counts but it seems as though my luck has finally caught up with me. I’ve now lost all my grandparents and recently just laid to rest my mother, who was 60.

My mom was still alive while I was reading “The Comfort Crisis,” but she wasn’t doing very well, and the thought of her potentially dying had begun to creep into my mind from time to time. I thought about her journey to the edge of the cliff and wondered if she had a fulfilling trip. I hoped she hadn’t experienced too many regrets and I prayed the time she spent with me was something that made her trip a little more enjoyable. I was also curious as to whether she could see the end or not and if she could, had she made peace with her journey? It comforts me to think that she did.

I don’t think about death 3 times a day as the monks do, but I do try to make a point to think about it from time to time. It takes me out of my comfort zone a little bit and helps keep me centered on the truly important things. I’m not an expert by any stretch of the imagination, but I do feel certain about one thing–life is a tremendous blessing and should be treated as such. I feel fortunate to be alive and healthy with no sign of my cliff in sight for the moment. When it finally does enter my horizon, I hope to greet it with a smile and walk off it with no regrets.

Your Straw is in the Bag

I was on a late evening chicken nugget run for the kids and decided to go through the drive-thru at one of the fast-food joints in town. I ordered, drove around, and paid for the food like a normal tax-paying citizen. When the young lady handed me the food she said, “Thank you. Your straw is in the bag.” I thanked her and proceeded to drive out of the parking lot. But then I realized something—I didn’t order a drink.

I opened the sack and, sure enough, there was a straw laying right there amid all the chicken nuggets and sweet and sour sauce packets. But, why? We went on to the house, ate dinner, and carried on with the rest of the night, but for some reason, I could not get that poor lost straw out of my mind.

After spending way too much time thinking about it, I concluded that the woman at the drive-thru window was so accustomed to handing customers a drink before or after their food that it was simply a habit for her to put the straw in the bag and let the customer know it was in there. It may even be company policy. Possibly, it is just something she decided to do after repeating the scenario thousands of times.

Whatever the reason, it made me reflect on my behavior and how I could potentially fall victim to making the same mistake with my interactions with people on any given day. One thing I have noticed about soul searching or doing a “check-up from the neck up” is that, if you REALLY do it the right way, you often won’t like the results. This time was no different.

How many times had I kissed my wife or told her that I love her purely out of habit? Did I even think about the action or the words at all? I wonder if she could tell the difference. How many times have my children wanted to tell me something and I just halfway listen to them? Their youthful enthusiasm will only last so long. Did I give their conversation the attention it deserved?

Have I had a friend who needed someone to talk to or a bit of advice? Were they using small talk to help build up the nerve to ask a question that might be hard for them to ask? I hope my indifferent or un-attentive attitude didn’t deter them from trusting our friendship enough to speak freely. Am I doing the best I can at work, or have I been on cruise control? Are there people or causes that I could have helped along the way if I hadn’t been for going through the motions nonchalantly?

I got some marriage advice from a man once that has stuck with me for a long time. To paraphrase, he told me that marriage was like traveling down a river in a 2-person canoe. If no one paddles the canoe, then it just goes wherever the river takes it. To get where you are doing, both people must be paddling in the same direction. I think this advice is not only great for marriage but also can be applied to life in general. If nothing else, just to remember that you are “on the river in a canoe” may help us be more deliberate with our behavior and how it relates to other people.

Being “deliberate”—I really like that term and I wish I could take credit for it. In my opinion, it is the best word to use when describing how we can keep from getting stuck in our behavioral ruts. I’ve tried this in my daily life and, let me tell you, it’s not as easy as it sounds. For others, it may look different, but for me it means putting the phone away for hours at a time, turning the TV off unless I am actively watching it, looking people in the eye when they are talking, planning my day, taking a moment to step back and look at what is truly important in my life RIGHT NOW, and sincerely thinking about what I think a good life would look in the near and distant future.

I’m not a psychologist, counselor, or guru, so maybe what I’m saying doesn’t relate to you at all. But, I can tell you that after a short time of making it a point to “be deliberate about being deliberate,” I can see some immediate positive impact in my personal life. I’d wager a hefty bet that the long-term benefits will be numerous as well. The young lady at the drive-thru window changed my perspective in a way in which very few people have done before. Maybe she DID know what she was doing. Either way, I’d like to thank her for putting that straw in my bag.

We Could All Use a Little Perspective

I was taking my daughter to preschool a few months ago and, like nearly every other morning, she was gearing up to conquer her day in an energetic and rambunctious way. She was singing random songs, quoting odd facts, and asking aimless questions. We took the same route we have always taken and we were at a particularly mundane section of the drive when one of her random thoughts hit me like a sack of bricks.

We were traveling north and the sun was at just the perfect spot in the sky to be obstructed periodically by the small buildings on the east side of the road. “Bye-bye sun! Hello, sun! Bye-bye sun! Hello, sun!” she would yell as the buildings blocked the light as we traveled on the highway. I’m not sure what it was about that particular morning that made me pause, but a thought came to my mind that I felt like I needed to share.

That big ball of gas has a radius of over 400,000 miles and is floating out in space more than 94 million miles away from our planet. It is so massive that its force causes 9 planets (or 10 for you Pluto purists) to orbit around it. It is the center of a solar system for crying out loud. So how is it even possible that it can be obstructed by a 1-story antique mall between Dardanelle and Russellville?

Well, it’s all about perspective. One definition provided by dictionary.com for that word is, “the state of existing in space before the eye.” We don’t have to be physicists to realize that where we are in relation to an object is just as much of a factor as size or distance from that object in terms of how we view it. We don’t think about it every day, but we just know. For instance, objects appear to be larger when you view them up close than they do from a further distance.

But, another definition provided for perspective is, “the state of one’s ideas, the facts known to one, etc., in having a meaningful interrelationship.” All of this made me think of something that I remember hearing on a youth group trip to St. Louis when I was no more than 12 years old. If it caught my attention at that age enough to stick, it’s probably worth repeating.

We were sitting in a Mcdonald’s that overlooked the freeway. It was late in the evening and all of the cars passing by looked like darting streams of light that were here one second and gone just as quickly. One of the adults at the table said, “You see all of those balls of light flickering down there? Every one of them has a person or family in it that has its own set of unique problems. Some of them may be dealing with the death of a child. Others may have just been fired from work. There may be someone who was recently diagnosed with cancer. Some have already lost hope and others may not even realize the blessings they have been given.”

I don’t think about that story as often as I used to, but I am grateful that my daughter’s dance with the sun brought it back to the front of my mind for a moment. The last 2 years have been hard on my family and there have been plenty of times that I sat around and felt sorry for myself. I’ve felt unloved, unappreciated, and even invisible at times. But one thing I’ve learned through it all is that the best weapon to fight an enemy like that is thankfulness.

I don’t know if anyone will read this or if anyone who happens to read this needs to hear it, but if there is someone out there looking for unsolicited advice, let me offer a thought that has helped me through the rough patches. When things feel like they can’t get any worse, look around at who and what you have in your life and be grateful for everything. Some of the things you take for granted would be tremendous blessings to those who don’t have them. A little bit of change in perspective can go a long way in easing the pain in your life. You may even be able to turn something bleak and dreary into something beautiful and fulfilling.

Seasons and Stages: Learning to Embrace Your Current Spot

Gradual changes over long periods of time have always been one of those things that just screws with my head. I remember being able to hold each of my kids in one arm and feeding them by bottle. Night after night I was not able to see them growing, but one day I wasn’t able to hold them like that anymore. When I look back on it, I can’t put my finger on the exact time in which it happened. But it certainly did happen.

As I have gotten older and experienced more people close to me dying, I’ve noticed that people who are old or sick seem to be at peace with leaving their earthly bodies. I’m convinced that when you get to a certain point in your journey, something in your soul changes and you just become okay with the prospect of death. Some people even seem to embrace it.

Muhammad Ali once said, “The man who views the world at 50 the same as he did at 20 has wasted 30 years of his life.” The first time I read that I thought it was kind of silly. Everyone always tells you that the secret to life is to never grow up. You must maintain that childlike spirit even as you age. If you do that, you will never get old.

But when I thought about how that applied to my life, it made total sense. I’ve just recently moved into a new “season” of my life. Just like feeding the babies, I can’t tell you exactly when it happened, but it hit me like a rock when it did. Ali wasn’t urging us to lose our youthful nature, but he was telling us that each stage of life Is unique and brings about its own challenges and joys.

I work with a couple of young guys who are just starting to build their stories. Their wives are pregnant with their first child and they are settling in with their first big purchases while anxiously waiting to see how their lives are going to be changed forever. I’ve been giving a ton of unsolicited advice and feel like some of the annoying older people who did the same thing to me all those years ago.

But more than anything, I have been reflecting on that previous season of my life. The glowing wife, the stack of bills, the unknown future, the restless delivery room, those first few months of terror and sleepless nights. My wife and I are not having anymore children, so I’ll never experience these things again. Every day my kids get a little bit further from their beginnings and closer to sprouting into their own skin.

My first emotion was a deep sadness. I don’t remember enjoying the lack of sleep on that sofa the nights our children were born. I remember some of the little things that use to be annoying realities of having a newborn. But all of a sudden, I was sad, and I missed those things. But I quickly realized that those things aren’t for us to experience forever. And now I understand what those annoying “old people” meant when the said, “Don’t blink, bud.”

So, I am embracing this new season in my life. I’m going to continue to help my kids develop into the best humans they can be, take steps to become a better husband to my wife, enjoy my time with loved ones while they are still here, and spew tons of advice to the younger kids while playing my part as the annoying old man.

With all the division we have in the world right now, it is comforting to know that for ages and ages, people really have always been about the same. Through war and famine and plague, the game keeps going on and on, even if the players shuffle positions every few years.

Marrying a Woman is Easy–Being a Husband Is Not

If you’re a man who just read this title expecting to find a shoulder to cry on because of your tough life then you are going to be in for a big disappointment. This is not a whine-fest. This is a reality check. Divorce rates are climbing at an alarming rate while family stability is falling even faster. A family doesn’t mean as much as it did 50 years ago. If you don’t believe me then just take a trip to Wal-Mart–back talking adolescents, half-naked teenage girls, abusive and angry young men. The downfall of the family doesn’t rest completely on the shoulders of men. However, if you think you are doing enough to keep your marriage together then you already have the wrong attitude.

The first couple of years of my marriage were some of the best times of my life. We were young, madly in love, and eager to start our little family and embark on the American dream. We used to have couples tell us, “I wish we could be like you guys. Y’all are so happy and love each other so much.” Maybe hearing those things got to my head. Maybe people applauding me for being a good dad fertilized my subconscious ego. Maybe working 60 hours a week made me feel like a hero. One thing is for sure–I took my wife for granted over and over and over again. It’s all so clear to me now, but it could be too late for me. If you are still reading this, PLEASE KEEP READING. While I am trying to save my marriage, maybe you can take something from this to use in your own.

The word selfishness is ugly. We can be quick to throw it around when talking about other people, but the thought of characterizing ourselves as such rarely crosses our mind. I’m guilty. Now that I can look back objectively on the past, I cringe at how selfish I really was. I’ve never been a bad husband, but I’ve never been a good one either. I’ve been a good person, but that isn’t enough. When my wife would beg for my affection I would think, “What the heck? I already do this and this and this.” Guess what–it’s not enough. And the fact that I was thinking like that just confirms how selfish I was. I work like a dog. I spend time with my children. This is what I’m supposed to do, right? Yes–along with a host of other things.

An apple a day keeps the doctor away. But an apple a day can also keep your wife happy. She needs these things from you every single day. You owe them to her as her husband. There may be days that you can get away without selling out to this idea. Don’t risk it! Man-up and remember why you married her in the first place.

Adoration

Protection

Provision

Leadership

Emotion

Adoration. “Frequent and devoted love.” That doesn’t mean you love her every now and then–love her all the time. Unconditionally. Telling her every day is important, but showing her daily is the key. Words lose their meaning if they don’t mesh with your actions. Holding her hand in public tells everyone else she is yours. Holding her hand when no one is watching tells her she is yours. Hug her tight. Kiss her often. Go to bed when she does. Make love to her. Leave her notes. Surprise her with flowers. The list is endless, but the point is to never let her question how deep your love is.

Protection. “Preservation from injury or harm.” Would you stand in front of that bullet for her? You should, but it goes further than just physical protection. She gave you her heart on her wedding day and it is your responsibility to safely keep it in your possession. Don’t let addictions grab hold and strangle your relationship. Don’t put yourself in situations in which you may do something you regret. Take care of your body and mind and don’t let anything endanger her or your kids’ physical or emotional security. Pledge to keep her safe until you breathe your final breath.

Provision. “The providing of something, especially of food or other necessities.” This one is important but don’t fall into the trap that I did. It is your duty to make sure your wife and family are housed, fed, and provided with the things they need to accomodate the quality of life you promised them. Go to work every day and use her as your inspiration to perform well. She deserves the fruits of your labor. If you are out of work, swallow your pride and do what is necessary to keep the family afloat. Even if she works, the ultimate responsibility lies on your shoulders to provide financially.

Leadership. “An act of leading; guidance; direction.” Did you notice there is nothing in that definition about being a boss? Guide your family and be the anchor that holds it steady through the rough times. Just as in providing, your wife has every right to share in the decision making process. As a husband you have the duty of establishing a concrete moral foundation for your family to stand on. Be strong and never waiver in the things in which you believe. Consult with her on everything and don’t shy away from making the tough decisions that are imminent over a long and healthy marriage.

Emotion. “Any of the feelings of joy, sorrow, fear, hate, love, etc.” If you can’t be emotionally transparent with your wife, then you who can you share with the myriad of feelings that encompasses our lives. Laugh with her. Cry with her. Mourn, rejoice, and fume with her. Never let her have to question how or what you are feeling. Realize that she probably sees the world from a completely different angle than you do. Holding back your feelings and giving her nothing is one of the cruelest things you can do to someone you love.

And here’s the kicker–you have to do all of these things. Every woman is different and you may have to focus more on one aspect than another. At some point, though, your wife is going to need all of these things from you. It’s a lot of work, but dang–is it not worth it? I’d give anything to retrace my steps and put these priciples into place. I never quit loving her but I did put my own satisfaction ahead of her happiness. Do you see the viscious cycle that causes? My short term happiness could potentially result in a lifetime of regret and unfulfillment.

I can’t tell you how much better I feel about my life after I realizing how selfish I really was. If things don’t work out for me, at least I have made changes in my own life that will benefit me down the road. If the winds of fortune allow me another opportunity to prove my love, I will never, ever let it grasp through my hands. Please take the advice of a man whose whole life is hanging in the balance.

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