D.L. Mayfield

living in the upside-down kingdom

Filtering by Tag: i hate ben folds but i really love you

marriage is work

When I got engaged, my mom was worried about me. I was so stoic, chin up, accepting congratulations with a quiet dignity. No hysterics, fussiness, wild delusions of bliss for me, no. My mom took me aside and asked if I really, actually did want to be married. I was shocked. What sort of question was that? I knew I was supposed to marry this boy, no matter what. That was obvious. But did I want to?

Mom, I said, marriage is hard. Like, really hard. It's a lot of work. It's probably the most difficult thing I will ever do in my life.

I had no illusions of the lovey-dovey years: all I could see was two sinners, sharpening each other for all eternity. Romantic, right?

My mom nodded her head, a little smile creeping up her face. 

I got married, in love and grimly determined to roll up my sleeves at the enormous amount of work that a successful relationship takes.

199_20820490647_1049_n

 

Six years in, and I am having the time of my life. We get to have adventures, snuggle, and make ridiculous jokes together. We share a common vision about God's dream for the world, and we are trying to live it out together. We are best friends, tag-teamers, baby wrasslers, each other's point of sanity and mirth.

We know the absolute worst and best parts of each other, and I wish I could go back 7 years and tell my serious little self: the good far outweighs the bad. 

 

199_20820370647_3297_n

 

I have been surprised, in every way, just by how fun it has been to be married, to this one particular boy.

 

199_20820355647_6978_n

 

Here's to another year (and decades more) of fun, adventure, crazy-times, growth, silliness, and joy.

And to work that never, ever actually feels like work.

 

1467285_10153531372110648_1709030014_n

 

 

Happy anniversary, dude.

 

 

 

 

i am the luckiest

happy birthday to the best one. tonight somebody asked you if you were a rock star, all skinny jeans and flannel shirt and beard and freckles. you aren't, not traditionally (although you are a killer lyricist, a slam poet in hiding) but you still manage to make me feel in a tizzy, after 8 years of knowing you, nearly five being married.

you're a baby, only just today 26, i feel guilty for snatching you up. but i'm glad too, in a way, for us to grow old and wise together, to have the majority of our stories be intertwined.

you have, in your few years, overcome more obstacles than most people i know. you have more reason than anyone to be bitter, cynical, and hardened by your experiences. but this is your miracle: you are soft, open to the things of god made manifest in the people all around you. and this is why people come to you, spill their secrets and souls, why everyone feels so darn safe around you.

you are bringing the kingdom, every day, with your refusal to hate and judge and war, with your propensity towards peace and calm and goodness.

here's to you, on your birthday. you really are the best one.

Powered by Squarespace. Background image by Kmayfield