Connecting after Kids

November 5, 2014 by 4 Comments

Connecting after kids

My newest piece is up today at Today’s Christian Woman–an article about how Michael and I sought to intentionally connect as a married couple (and not just as parenting partners) after having our daughter. What follows is an abbreviated version of the full article, which you can read here!

Pregnancy was difficult for me. Recovery from an unexpected C-section was difficult for me. The initial transition into motherhood was difficult for me. The lack of sleep was difficult for me. Why I expected our marriage to fly through all of these difficulties without any significant emotional ramifications is beyond me. Maybe it’s because, after being married for seven years, I assumed we would continue to connect well and operate the same way.

I was wrong.

It’s not that Michael and I didn’t still love each other. It’s not that we didn’t continue to have date nights. It’s not that we didn’t still spend time together. But it felt . . . different. I felt different. At times, I felt overwhelmed by how much my daughter needed me and by how little time there was to do anything other than care for her. As we emerged from the newborn stage, I found myself unsure about how to continue to invest in and develop my own passions, let alone the connection points in our marriage, when I felt so immersed in this new, tiny life.

Our marriage didn’t feel the same.

Looking back, I can say now to myself: of course it wasn’t the same. You had a baby. Your attentions are now divided. Your hormones are out of whack. You are a family of three rather than two. The external change is huge; the emotional change will be huge too.

But I didn’t have those thoughts then. I just had a lot of feelings—and primarily, I felt less connected to my husband than I ever had before. I didn’t want this shift to lead to a slow fade of operating as parenting partners rather than emotionally connected spouses.

As we talked with each other and with friends, we both committed, again, to making sure our marriage thrived in every season of life—including this new one with a baby. So we kicked our intentionality up a notch and made connecting as a married couple—and not just as parenting partners—a top priority in our lives.

The most important part of connecting as spouses? Prayer. We prayed—individually and together—for God’s grace and wisdom as we sought to stay meaningfully united in this new stage of life.

With God’s help, we also made several practical choices. First, we pared down our schedule. We had both been carrying full schedules before Ella was born; after her birth we realized our pace of life was not sustainable if we wanted to continue to have a healthy marriage. Michael took a break from graduate school, and while we kept attending a small group at church, we stepped down from leading it.

Secondly, we worked to share new experiences together. Parenting Ella was a new experience we loved, but we needed to continue to invest in our relationship as friends and lovers. Due to our exhaustion, date night had become routine—dinner at home and Shark Tank on the couch. So we mixed things up. We went to a matinee downtown. We went to a friend’s wedding without our daughter, even though she was invited. We took a vacation. These experiences offered new avenues within which our relationship could grow.

Marriage is about the God our marriage is meant to point to; it is about us looking and loving more like Jesus. Share on X

Thirdly, we went to a counseling and marriage retreat. With the help of a Christian counselor, we were given practical tools for how to grow together emotionally in this new season of life. We walked away from that week with a shared grid for how to encourage and support one another better.

But there’s no quick solution or easy answer to navigating these new waters since becoming parents. Our marriage has changed emotionally—as well as physically and practically—because we have changed. The transformation into becoming parents together has been a beautiful, stressful change for us, and with every new stage our daughter grows into, our marriage will have to grow as well. Our needs and hers are constantly shifting, and it will continue to take great intentionality and time—as well as heartfelt engagement with one another—to stay emotionally connected.

What does stay the same is God, along with the promises we made to one another at the altar so many years ago. We are committed to keeping our marriage as healthy as we can because, ultimately, our marriage isn’t about us. It is about the God our marriage is meant to point to; it is about us looking and loving more like Jesus; and it is also, now, about a little girl who is toddling around our home. That is worth our time, our love, our intentionality, and our commitment—in any season of life.

Read the full article here at Today’s Christian Woman!

Filed Under: Baby, God, Marriage, Motherhood, Parenting Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Keeping Marriage Fresh and Fun

November 3, 2014 by 1 Comment

Fresh and (1)
When Michael and I got married, we had a lot of time to watch movies on the couch, take weekend trips away, and try new restaurants. Our marriage was at the front of our hearts, minds, and calendars; although we didn’t have a lot of money, we had time and creativity—two things more precious than any amount of gold.

Fast forward eight years and throw in a couple of demanding jobs, three grad school programs, a mortgage and a baby, and we discovered that there were two thousand other things that wanted to squeeze out that time and creativity that had been going into our marriage. Life got full. Too full. And our marriage was feeling the repercussions.

And so, to keep our marriage healthy and our lives sane, we stepped back and had to get really focused about making our relationship a priority. These ideas aren’t perfect, but they’ve helped us grow and maintain a marriage that we both love, and I hope they can encourage you, too!

1. We date each other. No, we don’t go out on elaborate dates every week. Or even once a month. But we do set aside one night every week that’s just for us. Because my husband often has evening meetings for work and I often have projects and grading at night, if we don’t carve out a specific time to meaningfully connect each week, it doesn’t happen. Some date nights are pizza and a movie on the couch, and some date nights I put on my heels and we walk around our city’s downtown, sharing ice cream and sitting in the park. Either way, we’re making us a priority.

2. We mix it up. You know that saying—“familiarity breeds contempt?” It doesn’t have to be true, but it can become true too easily if we fall into ruts in our marriage. If our time together is solely focused on managing a household, or if we only ever talk about work and how the kids are doing in school, we begin to feel disconnected and undervalued. One way to kick this pattern is to share a new experience together. See a show. Take some dance lessons. Try a new restaurant. When we step out of our zones of regularity, we get to see our spouse in a new light—something that can offer new opportunities for sparks to fly!

3. Two and Two. Over dinner, we often ask each other to share two feelings and two encouragements—an idea we stole from some of our friends. We each share about two distinct feelings we had during our day (“I felt excited when,” “I felt confused when,” etc.), and then we encourage our spouse in two ways (“I really appreciated that you took out the trash this morning,” “You looked so handsome today as you left for work.”) I’m always amazed at how far these little insights into each other’s days can help us connect meaningfully—and feel loved.

Marriage is a gift and a challenge, and as seasons of life change, other things will always seek to squeeze out the time we could give to our spouses. But with intentionality and cultivation, our marriages will grow—and flourish!

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Locking and Unlocking: Wedding Vows

October 13, 2014 by 3,100 Comments

This summer, we were at a family wedding, and it was all the things weddings are meant to be–joyful and poignant, beautiful and somber. The bride and groom are older than Michael and I were when we wed, but I still found myself amazed at how young they are, and how amazing it is that we promised ourselves these things when we just rounded the corner into our twenties.

The Gift that only marriagecan unlock

There is a weightiness at a wedding that is halting, startling. The vows being made are so simple, and yet–and yet–they mean everything. To wed your life to another–to bind in the sense of “tying the knot”–it is a trembling, fearful thing. Not fear-full, but knee-knocking in its own right, because you are locking your life to another and tossing away the key.

To vow your life to another is to toss away the key to making decisions with only yourself in mind. It is to toss away the key to making yourself the highest priority. It is to toss away the key to having relationships that threaten the sacredness of the marriage. It is to toss away the key to a lot of freedoms that exist before that knot is tied.

But marriage also opens doors–more doors than I knew could open through just one other person. Marriage unlocks the mystery of another soul, offering glimpses of the brokenness and the glory of your spouse. It is a holy thing to see my husband at his worst and choose to love him, even as he does the same for me. It is a holy, holy thing to see my husband at his best and marvel that I am the one given the gift of being his partner.

Marriage unlocks a security and a safety that offers haven in a tumultuous world. Marriage unlocks silliness and goofiness and a deep sense of joy. And marriage, at its most beautiful and powerful, unlocks a picture of the love Christ has for his Church–no greater love, no greater tenderness.

This is what we glimpsed at the wedding this weekend. As observers of those vows, we had a peek–through a keyhole–of the doors they were locking and unlocking together. The fullness of the marriage is theirs alone, but it pointed us again to that most wonderful Love–and to the great wedding feast that is coming.

Filed Under: Life, Marriage, Uncategorized Tagged With: , , , , , ,

Small Home Hospitality: A Guest Post at (in)courage!

October 7, 2014 by 8 Comments

Today, I’m writing for (in)courage about being hospitable in a small home–our small home!

Ann Swindell-DailyGraceHospitality

Here is the start of the article. I would love for you to join me at (in)courage!

We have a small home — a split-level condo with two bedrooms and a galley kitchen that never seems to have enough counter space. I know that in most places in the world, our home size would be considered normal, or perhaps even large. But here in affluent suburbia where we live, our square footage is, comparatively, on the compact end of things.

Any time we have more than a handful of people over — such as this last weekend for my daughter’s first birthday party — we run out of seating quickly. Often, guests start spilling onto the stairs, sitting on steps when the couches and chairs are full.

My tendency, in the past, was to worry about the lack of space, to try and fix things by giving up my seat or finding another stool. Because when I saw people sitting on the stairs, my hospitality button got pushed: I didn’t feel like I could provide what my guests needed. I never want anyone to feel uncomfortable in my home — physically or socially — and I was concerned that our small home would make people feel cramped and unwelcome.

Read the rest of the article here!

 

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Complaining is a Spiritual Problem: An Article for RELEVANT Magazine

August 20, 2014 by 5 Comments

I really don’t like cleaning the dishes. I’d rather fold laundry, change a diaper, vacuum—anything. I will gladly do a lot of things before I have to do the dishes. And we even have a dishwasher.

And although I cringe to admit it, I have complained about “having” to clean the dishes to my husband, my sister, my friends—just about anyone who will listen. Typing that out makes me sound like a whiny 3-year-old. Which, if I’m being honest, is true. Sometimes I act like a spiritual 3-year-old. I complain about dishes, I complain about traffic, I complain about the weather. You name it, I’ve probably complained about it in some form or fashion.

Complaining, griping, whining, grousing—whatever you want to call it, it’s a spiritual problem.

The problem is not, actually, the dirty dishes. And the problem is not the backup on I-355 or the snow that wouldn’t budge for six months.

The problem is me. The problem is how I see the world.

The Center of the Universe

Because when I put myself at the center of existence, everything that isn’t tailor-made to my desires becomes something I can complain about. My husband’s pastoring job that keeps him out late several times a week? I see it as a hindrance to my own personal happiness when I have to eat dinner alone or put our daughter to bed without his help.

The fact that our car busted its water pipe and we have to pay hundreds of dollars for a new one? I see it as money that I shouldn’t have to spend. The laundry that I forgot in the washer for two days that now smells awful and needs to be re-washed? I see it as an inconvenience and an annoyance. The fact that I have to spend hours and hours every week grading stacks of papers that my students may barely review? I see it as a thankless part of my teaching job. All because I am setting myself at the center of my life.

Complaining is a spiritual problem. Share on X

How We Respond to Life Matters to God

Now hear me—I’m not talking about dealing with the very real, very sobering, very heart-wrenching realities that millions of people in the world face every day. Horrible things are happening in this country and around the world as I type this, and as Christians, we are called to attend to the hurting and poor and to offer help that is both spiritual and tangible. Those things deserve true grieving and tears and a mighty response of compassion. Complaining about life and seeking justice for genuine wrongs are two different things.

But that’s not what this is about. This is about the daily complaints that I mutter—that many of us mutter—in the regularity of our lives. I’m not trying to make myself or anyone else feel guilty about “first-world problems,” because most of us reading this will never face starvation or genocide. But what we will face is our own lives, and how we respond to our own lives matters to God, because it is the only life we can live.

And so this is where I must turn to the truth of a different reality—one where I’m not the sun that everything else is circling around. The Bible tells me about this different reality, about a King and His Kingdom, and it tells me that I am decidedly not at the center of this world.

1 Corinthians 4:7 asks the question: “What do you have that you did not receive?” And to that question, I must reply: nothing. My husband who works late for his job? Both the man and his job are gifts from God, who has given me a spouse and has provided for our family through that job. The car that needs repairing? That car is a gift from God: it transports us to where we need to go, safely and quickly. The washing machine that holds smelly laundry? That is a gift from God that enables us to wash our clothes easily and effectively. The job that keeps me glued to my desk? That is a gift from God that allows me to use my talents in ways that help others.

Choosing to see the gifts in front of me is the quickest way to stop complaining in my life. Share on X

The Gift

All of it, a gift. And when I see from this perspective, I have no room for complaint. Yes, there are many difficult days in this life we live, but everything we have—even the lemon of a car or the job that keeps us up late—all of these things are gifts from a generous God. “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change” (James 1:17)

So when the traffic slows or the weather freezes or the dishes pile up, I have a choice. I can see myself at the center of the world and grouse about everything that doesn’t make my life easier. Or I can acknowledge the truth that I am not on any throne, but that the King who is has given me everything I have—even my heart beating in my chest—as a gift.

And so here is what I can offer instead of complaint: thankfulness. Gratefulness. Praise.

Still Waiting by Ann Swindell

Click here  to read this article at RELEVANT, where it was originally published!  

Relevant Complaining is a Spritual Problem

Filed Under: God, Guest Post, Life, Writing Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Forty Years of Saying Yes

July 9, 2014 by 1 Comment

This past week, my parents celebrated forty years of marriage. Forty years! What an amazing milestone. What an incredible thing to celebrate. We live in a culture that glorifies weddings but often slams marriages. And yet what I have seen through the marriage of my parents is something that both rises above culture and challenges it.

 

NYC

My mom grew up as a pastor’s kid; when my parents were married my grandpa did the officiating, and my dad wore a white tuxedo with a powder blue ruffled button down shirt that spilled out from the lapels. After the wedding my father serenaded my mother on the church steps with “The Sweetheart of Sigma Chi” (the man can sing), and they held a reception at the church with punch and cake.

Their wedding was simple. God was honored, promises were made, cake was cut. In the grand scheme of wedding history and the Pinterest-crazy weddings that now take place, their wedding would have seemed, I can imagine, very unimpressive.

But it is their marriage that has proven impressive. It is their marriage that has proven those simple vows true a hundred thousand times over. And I have been one of the closest witnesses to that marriage.

I lived in a home where my parents spoke love to one another and to us every day. “I love you” rang throughout our house like a bell, the echo of the words always hanging until the bell was rung again.

I lived in a home where my parents did fun things together, where they enjoyed one another. I watched them host dinner parties and also get dressed up for nights out. I loved that they went on dates together.

I lived in a home where my parents talked to one another—and to us—openly and honestly. We had dinner together as a family most nights of the week and we shared our days with one another regularly.

I lived in a home where my parents kissed each other often and unashamedly. There was very little that made me happier as a child than to see how genuinely my parents were in love.

I lived in home where my parents told us that they would never divorce and that they would always be together. I am eternally grateful that they meant it.

I lived in a home where my parents laughed. And laughed. And laughed. I lived in a home where we all laughed together so hard sometimes that we had to pull away from the dinner table to catch our breath.

Is our family perfect? Hardly. Is their marriage perfect? By no means. But for forty years my parents have lived out their promises and their love with faithfulness and with tenderness and with joy—so much joy. They have walked through deep trials, as every marriage does. They have walked through countless changes, as any marriage stretched over forty years is bound to walk through. But they have clung to Christ and to each other, and their marriage is a beautiful representation of the love of Christ and his church.

Mom and Dad 40 years

I am honored to know them as parents and also as friends. And I celebrate you, Mom and Dad. Your faithfulness in marriage has borne great fruit. Thank you for saying yes at the altar forty years ago. And thank you for continuing to say yes to God and to each other every day of those last forty years. I love you both more than I can say.

Filed Under: About, Marriage, Uncategorized Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , ,
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