You know that saying, “I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached?”

Yesterday started with me getting up early to shower so I could get the kids fed and dressed in time to get Corin to Mother’s Day Out by 9 a.m. It was pouring – and I do mean POURING – when I pulled into the parking lot and immediately realized I must have missed a memo. The parking lot was nearly empty. I broke a cardinal rule and left the kids in the car while I sloshed to the door to sheepishly ask the one person in the place what exactly I had missed. Sure enough, no Mother’s Day Out this week, an open house next Tuesday, and then the normal schedule resumes for the school year. I needed to pay a tuition balance, but of course, I hadn’t brought my checkbook in. I sloshed back to the car to get my checkbook, dripped on the patient woman’s desk while I wrote her a check, and sloshed back out to a very disappointed three-year-old.

Of course, the lack of Mother’s Day Out meant Corin would be coming with me to Lina’s physical therapy appointment. Thankfully, it wasn’t a hard sell. They have toys.

We showed up on time (okay, 5 minutes late) and waited quite some time before the therapist came out and said, “Remember how I asked you last time if you had a recurring appointment on the schedule and you said you did?” Yeah. Oops. Thankfully, the kind therapist was able to see us, and we’re now on her schedule for the foreseeable future. Corin enjoyed himself and Lina had her best appointment so far.

By the time therapy was over and I’d fed the baby, it was well into lunchtime. We headed to the Panera just around the corner.  Corin likes the food there, and it’s healthier than some options, but the logistics are a challenge. Maybe there’s a way to gracefully manage two children while ordering at the register, locating an empty table mid-lunch rush, finding somewhere to stash the baby carrier and then ferrying two meals and a baby back to the table. If so, I haven’t found it. I wish I’d gotten the names of the kind strangers who stepped in to help, because they deserve public thanks.

The brightest spot all morning was the thought that the cleaning lady was at that very moment polishing things to a shine at home. That is, until I realized upon our return that I had completely forgotten to let her know we wouldn’t be home. The key was under the mat, but of course she didn’t feel comfortable barging into my home without instruction. I listened to the answering machine message – “No one is answering, so I’m leaving. I can come next Friday, if you want.” – and nearly cried.

The final chapter came at around 5 p.m., when I got a call from the agent who sold us our new health insurance policy, which it turns out had been voided for nonpayment, despite our having filled out all the paperwork for autodraft payments. (Thankfully, it’s all cleared up: a brief phone call this morning and the customer rep freely admitted it wasn’t our fault, waived the reinstatement fee, and promised all claims will be paid.)

There are just some days where you say a prayer of thanks you made it to the end. I gotta tell you, that was not my A game. But it’s also true that this narrative leaves a lot out. It doesn’t communicate how many times Corin’s commentary made me laugh, or the pleasure of sharing his first Dairy Queen blizzard, or the way Lina’s face lights up at brother’s antics, or the goofy way she pulls her foot up past her ear in the high chair… There is magic. It’s happening, even as I’m facing the truth that this once-organized and relatively together adult really would lose her head if it wasn’t attached.

Carrot loaf was a HIT

Jon and I celebrated our 11th wedding anniversary a couple weeks ago. I use the term “celebrated” loosely, because we planned nothing ahead of time and barely managed to catch a movie with friends (the very romantic Star Trek, if you’re curious) before heading straight back to pick up the kids. Jon says he’d much prefer the blogosphere to believe it was roses and candy and the French Riviera, but the truth is the truth. At least we have last year’s return to our honeymoon location to look back on.

In any case, I feel like 11 years qualifies us to have a few opinions on marriage. I promise you, we do not have this thing all figured out. We have our share of arguments and snappishness, the usual frustrations and annoyances that make up daily life with another person. There will doubtless be plenty more challenges ahead. But we’re 11 years and two kids in, and we’ve faced our share of hard times. We’re still in love and more grateful than ever to be sharing this life together. I knew I was marrying a good man, but I have been consistently amazed by the remarkable husband and father Jon is.

But to the point: I say all that to establish my qualification to voice an opinion about Christian marriage. Take it for what it’s worth.

I have in recent years (read: since the advent of Facebook) seen links to various articles and blog entries on the topic of Christian marriage. Many have some helpful, if rather basic, marriage advice. But invariably, they seem to have one thing in common: They all name the principle of wifely submission as key to a successful marriage. They generally point to at least one of two passages. They may use Colossians 3:18, where Paul advises wives to “submit yourselves to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord.”* Most do go on to mention the following verse, which commands husbands to “love your wives and do not be harsh with them.” However, rarely do these articles mention that following the next two verses, which address parent-child relationships, is Colossians 3:22, which reads: “Slaves, obey your earthly masters in everything…” And a few verses later, there is Colossians 4:1: “Masters, provide your slaves with what is right and fair, because you know that you also have a Master in heaven.” These passages we acknowledge as no longer culturally relevant. The second, more commonly quoted, passage is Ephesians 5:21-33, which reads in part: “Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior… Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy…” But again, these marriage articles may fail to mention the closing of this chapter: “This is a profound mystery—but I am talking about Christ and the church. However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband.”

Most of these marriage articles make good points about the self-sacrifice that is necessary for any marriage. And they are clear that both husband and wife are to serve each other in love. But they take it a step further, arguing that modern, feminist culture has damaged the biblical model of marriage, which establishes the husband as head of the family, the provider and spiritual leader, with his wife standing behind him in a support role, managing the household and family life. Growing up, I heard it frequently suggested that husbands and wives should always seek compromise, but when they were truly unable to settle a disagreement, the wife should submit to the husband’s will.

You know what my response is? Baloney.

I know I’m straying into controversial territory for some people. Many of you may ascribe to the picture of marriage presented above, and if it has worked well for you, then by all means, continue. Some of you have likely been at this much longer than 11 years! I do not intend to tell anyone else how to run their homes. But I do take issue with a default Christian perspective on marriage that is, in my opinion, less than helpful.

First, let’s examine the cultural context of the passages quoted above. Paul paints a picture of a godly marriage, and it certainly contains a loving husband as head of the household, with a submissive and respectful wife supporting him. But let’s also acknowledge that this advice was given at a time and in a culture when women had few rights and were treated as property to be transferred from father to husband at the time of marriage. Paul also advised women to stay silent in church, saving their questions to ask their husbands at home. (I Corinthians 14:34-35) He specifically forbids women from teaching men, pointing to the creation of Adam before Eve and Eve’s first fall to temptation, and suggests that women are saved through childbearing. (I Timothy 2:11-15) I think I can safely suggest that most of us have a different understanding today of the roles and rights of women. Perhaps we can agree that a Christian marriage today should look a bit different than marriage at the time Paul was writing?

I also take issue with the idea that “secular, feminist culture” is destroying the biblical model of marriage. I won’t wade into the truly treacherous waters of dissecting what exactly constitutes “biblical marriage,” but I will point to research that indicates divorce rates in the U.S. are 50 percent lower in homes where women earn half the income and men do half the housework.[1] It simply does not hold up that by adhering to more equal gender roles, husbands and wives jeopardize their marriages.

There are really two related issues here: leadership  and domain. At least one blog I read recently connected the idea of submission to the husband’s leadership and the home as primarily the woman’s domain. Both ideas seem problematic to me.

On a personal level, this may seem hypocritical. Jon works full time, and I left my job in 2012 to become a stay-at-home mom. I love being a full-time mom. I wanted to do this, and it currently works well for our family. But here’s the thing: I approach my role as a job. I don’t mean to say the work is drudgery (although, like any job, it certainly can be). What I mean is that Jon and I both have our work during the day, and then we share what needs to be done in the time that remains. He does not clock out of his job and expect to rest while I continue to work around the house. Some of our division of labor looks pretty traditional, some doesn’t. But neither of us views the home as mainly my domain. (He would take the suggestion as an insult.)

Even more important is the issue of leadership. When it comes to decision making, Jon and I are partners who give and expect equal voice. If we face major disagreements, we work until we find a solution. In a true impasse (which has been very rare), sometimes I give, sometimes he does. We’re both terribly stubborn, so it can take a while, but we always get there. We together set the spiritual tone for our family and together establish our family’s values and beliefs. We lead our family as a team.

Yes, that really is us, circa 1998.

I don’t intend to brag or suggest that everyone should do what we do. Instead, I am suggesting that it would be a shame if we felt our Christian faith required something other than this happy, workable, equitable arrangement. Do we really want to suggest to single or newly-married women that they should have less of a voice in their marriages? Do we want to suggest to young men that being a godly husband and spiritual leader means asking their wives to take a back seat? Proponents of this “Christian marriage” model seem to suggest that these are not unequal, but different roles. I absolutely agree that men and women have different strengths and needs and will have different roles in the family. But the specific makeup of a family is very individual, and I do not believe we should emphasize to women the principle of submission or suggest to men that they assume a “head of the household” role over the wife and children.

So what should a Christian marriage look like? I submit there are many biblical principles that apply across time and culture and work in families as different as the individuals who comprise them. They include: willing self-sacrifice, service, kindess, purity, faithfulness, commitment, hard work, shared faith, respect, discipline, laughter, prayer and, above all, LOVE.

My marriage advice boils down to this: Find someone who shares the things that really matter to you, build an equal partnership on core biblical principles like the ones above, and commit unequivocally to it. The rest is just one big adventure.

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[1] Lynn Price Cook, “‘Doing’ Gender in Context: Household Bargaining and Risk of Divorce in Germany and the United States,” American Journal of Sociology 112, no. 2 (2006): 442-72, as quoted in Sheryl Sandberg’s Lean In, Alfred A. Knopf, 2013.  

*All biblical quotes are from the New International Version.

It’s been a rough day. We’ve had a few of those lately, as you may have gleaned from recent posts. My nine-month-old has slept just over an hour since 6 a.m. It is now 5:30 p.m. There is more to the woe-is-me story line, but here’s the thing: I snapped some photos this morning of Lina, and in sorting through them, I have decided this is the lens I will use to view today.

Today she is wearing an outfit I bought the day after we found out we were having a girl. There was a time when those cute little outfits hanging in her closet brought me pain: the pain of hopeful expectations that seemed to have been dashed. But today, I am so grateful to look at these photos and see only my sweet baby girl in the strawberry top and ruffled bloomers that charmed me a year ago. I see the perfectly-matching headband bought for her by a wonderful friend. I see a big brother in love with his little sister.

Yes, their shenanigans are multiplying my gray hairs by the hour. These photos were taken around a dog and two other children wandering in and out of the frame, and the eyes that already looked tired in the pictures are much more tired now. But there is an awful lot of love and joy here, underlying and running right through all the chaos and exhaustion. Through today’s camera lens, I see how far we’ve come, and I’m ready to soldier on.

We’ve had a lot going on over here. I say that a lot, don’t I?

I have a back log of photos to share, of our first canoe trip with both kids, pool days and smiley Lina. Between the normal errands, summer outings and medical and therapy appointments, we’re on the go a lot. Our weekends have been full, as well, which has made for a couple of tired kiddos. We’ve been having fun, but I also find myself really valuing our increasingly-rare quiet days at home.

Corin started a Mother’s Day Out program last week. He goes from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. on Thursdays to the little Baptist church five minutes up the road, and he loves it. I get an impressive amount done in that time. Thus this blog post.

We got a new-to-us couch this week. This bears mention, because the cheap Rooms to Go couches we’ve been abusing for 10 years had become such a bane to our existence. Between the dog and the kids (but mostly the dog), we cannot in good conscience even donate them to Goodwill. They will be going out on the curb as soon as I can arrange trash pick-up. Jon suggested a bonfire. Amazingly, Tennyson (the dog) seems mostly content with staying off the new couch. Perhaps it was the lecture Jon gave him in which he threatened, with little need for exaggeration, that if Tennyson in any way damaged the new couch, I was likely to send him out the front door with no hope of return admittance.

We’ve had some challenges, as well. The a/c at the house is not working properly, and by the end of the day, it hits at least 80 degrees in here. The repairman has not returned our call. The insomnia I experienced for quiet a while after Corin’s birth has returned, and I am running on too little sleep most of the time. And Lina is on day 10 of a hunger strike, which has me pretty concerned. She only finishes bottles if she’s asleep, and sometimes not then. She takes little to nothing at her waking feedings. We’re used to ebbs and flows in her feedings, but this is bad, even by Lina standards. I have a suspicion it may be thyroid-related. She was due for thyroid blood work this week, anyway. I wanted to get it done at Vanderbilt, but given my growing concern, I ran her up to the pediatrician yesterday to get it done sooner. This was a mistake. It took three nurses, three separate sticks and a nightmarish amount of digging before they found a vein on my pitiful, screaming baby. We were all traumatized. I have a whole new respect for the lab tech at Vandy who a few months ago drew blood with one simple stick and minimal screaming.

Speaking of the baby, it’s time to cajole her into downing her new standard of three ounces. Wish me luck.

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Kiddie Pool with Claire and Cousin Benjamin

Stones River Canoe Trip with Friends

First Day of Mother’s Day Out

More Pool Time

Smiley Lina!