Posts Tagged ‘love’

I’ve been stuck for a while now trying to write the book. I don’t do well with being stuck, so I’m going to start posting again, but these are going to be journal entries from the time before and during the restoration tour. I’m not sure where this is going to go, or how much I’m going to share publicly, but I need to continue to tell the story.

With that in mind, I hope this will appeal to those of you who have been here before and will also draw in a new group of readers. This will be the same story, but told as it happened in more detail than on the original 90 day blog (which was written after the fact). If you find it to be inspiring or helpful, please tell others about it, share it on your social media, re-blog, etc.

I’d also love to hear from you – your thoughts and reactions, good or bad. Thanks in advance for going on this journey.

I’m not sure if they are nationwide, but if you live anywhere in my part of the country, I’m sure you’ve seen those “We buy ugly houses” billboards. They offer quick cash (at very low value) for houses that are fixer uppers, or for people looking for a very fast sale.

Yesterday, I passed one of their billboards that said across the top, “Don’t fix it, sell it.” I couldn’t help thinking how that very attitude is such a large part of the problem we have with so many aspects of our modern American culture.

We’ve become such a throw away society. We buy inexpensive, low quality goods and just replace them when they wear out or break. There’s no reason to value them.

We do the same thing with our relationships – even our marriages. We fall in love, we promise forever, and then we toss it away when it doesn’t make us happy.

“Don’t fix it, sell it” implies that it isn’t worth fixing. That it will take too much work. It will be too difficult. It will take too long.

Just get out and find a new place is the message. Except that nothing other than the physical address will have changed.

Because if you didn’t value the home you had enough to maintain it and to fix what needed fixing, you won’t value the next one either. You’re not solving any problems, you’re just creating a cycle that doesn’t change.

The problem with ending your marriage when it isn’t going well is that you bring the same issues and even more baggage to the next one. You can find another person to take the place of your former spouse, but when you look in the mirror, the same person’s still looking back at you.

So don’t sell it – fix it! When you do, a lot of good things happen.

First of all, you value that person you pledged your life to enough to say, “I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.” That will bring about a change in the other person, although it may take a while.

Secondly, the time and effort you put into fixing your marriage translates into a much higher level of committment in the future. Easy come, easy go, but when your blood, sweat, and tears have built the house, you don’t just walk away.

Third, and most importantly, you change yourself. You learn to stay and work instead of cutting and running. You break the destructive, “things are never going to change” cycle.

All of these things together add up to both of you getting what you’ve always wanted in the end. This is not a pipe dream, it’s the truth.

If you don’t know how to do this, there are plenty of us who do and will be more than happy to show you the way. Don’t sell it, because you’ll be selling yourself short. Fix it instead. Write me at therestorationtour@gmail.com

Hi everyone,

I just wanted to let you know that I have posted the first “teaser” for the book I’m writing over on the Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/TheRestorationTour

You can also get to it from the link here on the blog. I hope you’ll like my page, read, share, and talk it up. Also, let me know what you think. Comment on FB or write me at therestorationtour@gmail.com

Thanks in advance!

My wife and I recently returned from a trip to Universal Studios in Orlando, Florida.  We spent three days there, mainly in The Wizarding World of Harry Potter theme park.

While I certainly had no objection to going, it wasn’t me who was motivated to plan and save for this vacation.  Ceecee is a Harry Potter fanatic, and had been excited about this since the day she heard that such a place was being built.

The truth is, my wife is a kid at heart.  She loves to play, and she still experiences the wonder that adults often lose sight of.  Her eyes get wide in toy and candy stores, she loves going to the zoo, blowing bubbles, watching Disney movies, and lots of other things that most people her age have long since given up and forgotten.

It would be easy to look down on that, and some people do.  They don’t always think Ceecee is “acting her age.”

There’s a big difference between being childlike and childish, however.  My wife is not childish.  To be that would mean that she was immature and self-centered.

A person who is childlike can still see the world through the eyes of wonder.  A childlike soul isn’t so jaded that the negative aspects of life have snuffed out the simple joy of living.

Now, before you go thinking she is naive because she’s had it easy, let me assure you that nothing could be farther from the truth.  Not too many people would trade childhoods with her, if they knew what she’d been through.  Her adult life has been no picnic either.  In fact, I dare say that I’ve never known anyone who has overcome as much as she has, and is as healthy and well-adjusted as she is.

Jesus extolled the virtue of becoming like a child.  It’s the idea that you still believe in hopes and dreams, and life still holds excitement and promise, even in little things. As much as life has tried to rob her of her innocence, she stubbornly refuses to let go.

Seeing her face and getting to experience the excitement of Universal Studios with her was a highlight.  She’s already planning our next adventure, and I’ll be blessed to be part of it as well.

My wife just finished reading a historical novel called, “The Paris Wife,” by Paula McLain.  It tells the story of Ernest Hemingway’s first wife, and it’s a tale of a marriage doomed by Hemingway’s insatiable lust and infidelities.  In it, there is speculation that he may have been financially supporting a lover at one time during his first marriage.

The reason I bring this up is that the lack of honesty and transparency in their relationship was what made that situation possible.  When Ceecee was telling me about the book, it was that story in particular that caught my attention.  I thought of the way our marriage is today compared to the way it was a few years ago.

Today, each of us has full access to the other’s email, Facebook, and cell phone.  We are both on all of the bank accounts and we share checkbooks and debit cards.  We know each other’s passwords and there is an understanding that either of us can look through the other’s phone any time for any reason.

This might sound like we don’t trust each other.  In fact, nothing could be further from the truth.  It’s because we do trust each other that this works.  It’s also because of what we previously lost and had to regain that we chose to implement these measures into our relationship.

A few years ago, we had our secrets.  Secrets around birthdays and holidays are fine, but emails, texts, and other communications with people of the opposite sex that are intentionally kept confidential can be quite destructive indeed.  Both of us dabbled in the virtual world, and while I’m sure we never intended it to cross over into reality, it opened the door for much of what caused our separation.

Because of where we’ve been and where we are now, we are both extremely protective of the love that we have.  These “security” measures are not designed as a means of checking up on each other, but as a protection from ever opening that door, even a crack, again.

Just recently, I was in my wife’s Facebook, updating some information in her timeline for her.  It never even crossed my mind to open her messages and see who she’s been talking to.  We do trust each other, and we show that trust by saying, “Here is everything, open and available for you to see.  I have nothing to hide, and I want you to know that.”

Is there any harm in flirting or is it all just harmless fun?  If you’re married, it depends. 

Flirting with your spouse is not only fun, it’s a highly recommended way to increase the romance and intimacy in your relationship and keep things from getting stale.  Flirting with anyone other than your spouse is an absolute no.  As in, it’s never ok.

Some of you won’t like that, but I’m not trying to make friends here.  I’m trying to save, heal, and restore marriages, and that requires some straight talk.  Just because something is passed off as “normal” doesn’t make it right, and saying “everybody does it” is not only a cop-out, it isn’t even true.

The question you should be asking is, “How does my spouse feel about it?”  More pointedly, “How would my spouse feel if he or she could see me right now flirting with someone else?”   The reason I ask that second question is that people in relationships that are less than what they should be often don’t tell the truth, even to each other.  It’s not uncommon for someone to say, “My wife/husband doesn’t care if I flirt,” when the truth is, there isn’t enough trust or intimacy there for the other person to feel that he or she can tell the truth about how it makes him or her feel.

The bottom line is, you can either love your spouse the way he or she was meant to be loved, or you can be selfish and not experience the type of fulfillment that a great marriage brings.  You really can’t have it both ways.

If you want a happy, fulfilling marriage, your actions – all of them – have to be motivated by love.  Love is something you make.  Love is something you do, and if you do it right, your spouse will know that there is no one else on your mind or in your heart.  A person with that level of security will open up and show you the kind of love in return that makes playing games with anyone else utterly unappealing.

Does a little “harmless” flirting hurt anything?  You bet it does.  It hurts the one you’re supposed to love, and it hurts yourself by working against the very thing you should want the most; a marriage characterized by closeness and outward expressions of love for one another.

“A stitch in time saves nine,” wrote Ben Franklin, one of the wisest men who ever lived, if I do say so myself. Unfortunately, much of his wisdom is lost in a world of modern technology where many don’t even realize what a stitch is.  As a metaphor for marriage, or even life, old Ben was right on the money, though.

A stitch in time, for those of you who don’t know, refers to the sewing of a garment when there is only a small tear, or unraveling of a seam.  Rather than waiting until it’s a major problem, if the small things are attended to right away, they won’t ever become major.  It’s not unlike when your car begins to exhibit some small sign of a problem. If you get to it before it gets worse, you may only need a minor repair, but if you ignore it, you may eventually find the damage has reached the point of catastrophe.

As my earlier posts indicate, I was entirely neglectful and failed to put this principle into practice where Ceecee was concerned.  I allowed the small things to become big, and instead of taking care of the routine maintenance, I waited until the damage was nearly beyond repair before taking action.

In Patrick Morley’s devotional, “Devotions For Couples,”  he writes about “oneness” as the overarching goal of marriage.  “Oneness is to make a third entity of two who forsake themselves for each other, ” he writes.  “Unfortunately, after the honeymoon…selfishness sets in.  The one becomes two again.”  He then challenges couples to ask themselves: Are the two becoming one, or is the one becoming two?

For so many years, I felt myself grasping at something that I simply couldn’t take hold of.  I knew that things were wrong.  I knew that something was missing.  I just couldn’t get my mind around exactly what it was or what to do about it.

I really had no excuse.  I should have known what love was and what love required of me. I should have listened to my wife when she told me what she wanted and needed from me.  I shouldn’t have been lazy when it came to the most important earthly relationship that I had.

Now, we don’t let even the little things slide.  When something even begins to appear to be wrong, we address it.  We talk about it and make immediate adjustments, while the issues are very small.

Having loved and lost, and loved once more, we are extremely protective of what we have.  Just the other day, we had a slightly negative interaction and I made a comment to the effect that this was more like becoming two.  It wasn’t an accusation, just an observation.  It didn’t feel right, so I said so.

My wife didn’t get upset or respond defensively.  Instead she recognized what I was seeing and we adjusted our course.  It’s easy to fix the little things, and by so doing, we don’t have to fix any big things.

Only days before that, I had told her that for some reason, I had just felt a little bit off for a day or two and that I was sorry that I hadn’t been my usual self.  I know I had been a bit grouchy and less attentive than I normally am.  I wanted her to know that it wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t for any known reason, and it wasn’t going to persist.

When you notice the car making a funny sound, or something doesn’t seem quite right, that’s the time to deal with it.  It’s probably going to be very simple to fix.  It may be low on oil, a tire is out of balance, or a belt may be wearing out.  If you ignore it, you may need engine repair, new tires, or be stranded along the side of the road somewhere.

It’s the same way with your marriage and anything else in life. Keep up with the routine maintenance.  Take care of those things that are important and don’t let them get into a state of disrepair.  Then you can enjoy a marriage and a life that runs smoothly and avoid the costly repairs of separation and divorce.

I have nothing against the idea of love being all about hearts and flowers.  I mean, sugar and spice and everything nice seems to fit with the idea, at least from a greeting card perspective.  And if we are only talking about the concept of “being in love,” then sappy and sweet is appropriate.

The problem with all of that is that it’s not even close to being what love really is.  If love is only love when everyone is happy and smiling, then it isn’t love at all.  In fact, that idea of love equating to happiness is why so many people divorce soon after they fall “out of love” or one of them gets hurt by the other.

Author James Baldwin wrote, “Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up.”  Before love can truly become love, it has to learn to give without needing to take, and it has to overcome some hurt and disappointment.

How does one measure love?  In terms of greatness, the standard may well be sacrifice.  Who has loved greatly?  Who do we esteem as having loved beyond the reasonable expectation of being loved in return?

Is it not the one who has sacrificed greatly?  Is it not a Mother Teresa, an Oscar Schindler, or even Jesus Christ?  Didn’t Jesus say that, “No man has greater love than he who lays his life down for his friends?”

I fear that far too many people allow their spouses to leave and divorce them without realizing that they can enter into that battle where love becomes an overcoming, conquering force that wins the day when all seems lost.  Too many people give up far too soon and then lament that they “still love” their spouse, but they can ‘t do anything about what has happened.

If love is nothing else, love is most definitely about doing something about any situation where someone has a need.  When that someone is your spouse, it’s time to rise up and be the warrior who will not rest until the battle is finished.  Marriages don’t fail because people are ok.  When a marriage fails, people are hurting, devastated, afraid, and often irrational.

If you’re the one who still wants the marriage, you can’t base your actions on what your spouse says or does.  You have to fight.  And it’s not him or her you’re fighting.  It’s those spiritual and emotional forces that are causing the pain and devastation that are the enemies of your relationship.

You have to set aside the role of the hurt victim and take on the role of the conquering rescuer.  You have to go to battle on behalf of your spouse, even if he or she is currently the source of your pain.  If you don’t, you will lose, and you will lose permanently.

When much of Europe was being over-run in WWI and WW2, The United States could have stayed away and left things alone.  We could have stayed home when genocides were taking place, dictators were crushing the people within their borders, and atrocities were being performed in remote corners of the world.  We could have allowed people to continue to suffer, but we chose to go and do something about it.

When my wife was gone and living her life in a way that was intended to cut me out of her future, I could have given up.  I could have made excuses.  I could have said all kinds of things about how she made her choice, I deserved better, she isn’t willing to work on the marriage, and on and on and on.  Instead, I chose to see her as she really was, and as I dare say almost every spouse who leaves is.  A hurt, frustrated, scared soul who never wanted to get to this point.

Seeing her that way allowed me to fight her demons rather than fighting her.  It allowed me to put myself aside and go rescue her.  She didn’t think she needed to be rescued, and she didn’t want to be rescued, but now she thanks me for coming to her rescue.  I’m not saying these things to build myself up or portray myself as a hero.  I’m saying them because I continually meet people who are separated or divorced and they don’t understand that if they want to save their marriage, this is what you do.

There is so much to say about just this one thing that I could probably write a book about it and perhaps I will.  For now, be encouraged and challenged.  If this stirs you, or if you know someone this may help, please consider sharing.  To talk privately, contact me at therestorationtour@gmail.com

 

Last Saturday, Ceecee and I were sharing a picnic in Forest Park in St. Louis.  It was a bit chilly, but we had blankets and an adventurous spirit, so we gave it a go.  We also had some really good stuff from Trader Joe’s and Global Foods, a specialty food store in one of the burbs, so we were looking forward to this picnic.

We found a spot by the water before the sun went down and began to unpack the picnic basket.  I had mentioned other such picnics we had shared over the years and we reminisced a bit over these.  I was telling her about these pictures that I often look at where it was a sunny day and she was lying there smiling.  Interestingly enough, that picnic was during our separation.

The very first time we visited St. Louis, we sat in the same park and shared a bottle of wine (probably illegal, I realize) and a European style lunch of fruit, bread, and cheese on the grass not far from the art museum.  Since Forest Park is larger than New York City’s Central Park, we have shared similar experiences in many different locations and don’t even remember where they were or how to get to them now.  There’s something very romantic about spreading a blanket and pulling a cork and sharing an intimate meal of finger foods and vino.

So back to us being separated.  Even when things were at their worst, St. Louis was the one thing we never let go of.  We still went once a month, and for that one day, it was almost as if we were still Brian And Ceecee.  We still had fun, and we still had picnics.

This past weekend, Ceecee said something about it being too bad we didn’t have cookies for the ride home.  She was referring to a special memory we share of buying a box of specialty cookies at Vitale’s Bakery on The Hill.  As we drove home, we opened the box to sample the different flavors.  By the time we got home, we had eaten the entire box.  Although we are normally too health conscious to do something like that, it was completely spontaneous and we laughed and shared and enjoyed every bit of that experience.

When she mentioned it, I immediately had the thought,” I wonder if that was before, during, or after our separation.”  For a time, shortly after we had gotten back together, I obsessed over time frames and what was happening when.  I’m not sure why I thought that mattered, but I was always trying to place events and memories in context of where our relationship had been at the time.

Almost as quickly as I had the thought, another took its place.  I told Ceecee what I had been thinking and then said, “I realized that it doesn’t matter.  It’s just always been us.”  She agreed, “A good memory is a good memory.”

The challenge is to apply that to everything.  It doesn’t matter how or when or why certain things happened.  What matters is to celebrate the good and let go of the rest.  Treasure the memories we want to keep, because they will be part of our legacy, and part of what makes our marriage ours and ours alone.

In my last post, I mentioned a house we restored in Western Kansas.  It was while living in and working on that house that I learned the meaning of the expression, “blood, sweat, and tears.”  I put all three into that house as the project progressed.

When my marriage began to unravel, it was very similar to the experience of restoring houses like that.  Things had gotten bad and it didn’t really matter how or why.  What mattered is what needed to be done about it.

It doesn’t take both people working to restore a marriage, however.  Most people assume that if one person isn’t willing to work, the relationship can’t be fixed.  Nothing could be further from the truth.

If there was ever love there, it can be rebuilt.  Either person can do this.  Sure it’s easier if both people work together, but that’s rarely going to be the case.  When a marriage reaches that point, generally either someone wants out or has already left.  That person is probably not going to be working.

If the other, the one who wants the marriage, will do the work, it will still get done.  It will take longer and be more difficult, but it will still get done.  It’s not so much a question of if it will work, but of how long it will take and what it will require.  I wish everyone who has found him or herself staring at divorce would realize this.

When Ceecee decided to give up on me and move on, I was the only one there to do the work.  I had to learn on the fly and I had to get busy.  No excuses, no “what if’s”, I had to get to work and be diligent about it.

I worked and worked, day after day, week after week, month after month.  Most of that time, it didn’t seem like it was doing any good.  There was little, if any response from Ceecee.  I just kept working, because I believed I could rebuild the love.  I was committed to seeing it through and idealistic enough to believe that it could be done.

When you work on a house like the one we bought in Kansas, it’s much the same way.  You work and work and labor and labor and sometimes it doesn’t seem like it’s ever going to be worth it.  It seems like it was a mistake to ever buy the house and it seems like it will never get finished or amount to anything.  All the work doesn’t seem to yield results.

At times, it seems like it’s destined to fail.  There are setbacks and failures.  You cut into something you shouldn’t have cut into.  You try to move a wall that you shouldn’t be moving.  You discover problems that you never anticipated.

So it was with our marriage.  I was working and building to be sure, but there were setbacks.  I said things I shouldn’t have said.  I opened up things that I shouldn’t have dug around in.  I got selfish at times and lost focus.

Then it comes together all of a sudden.  You finish the drywall and put on paint.  You refinish the hardwood floors and suddenly it looks like a whole new place.  The woodwork gets done, the colors take shape, decor comes into focus, and as if it happened all at once, a beautiful home rises from the sawdust and scraps.

It was literally two weeks from the last time my wife told me that she didn’t love me until she called asking me to move back in with her.  There had been months of building leading up to those two weeks.  At any time, I could have given up.  I could have concluded that it was a mistake or it wasn’t worth it.  I could have wasted my opportunity.

If I had, I wouldn’t be writing this blog, loving the most wonderful woman I’ve ever known, and trying to communicate to others that this is how it works.  But it is how it works.  Love is something you make.  You build it by putting yourself aside and giving all you have to the one you’re committed to.

If there was ever love there to start with, it can be rebuilt.  It takes time.  It takes committment.  It takes sacrifice.  But it’s worth it.  It’s always worth it.  It’s so much more than worth it.