Of Advice and Time

You know how older people (no matter how old you are, there is always someone older) are always telling you tidbits of advice they've gathered throughout the years? Like to "not worry about the little things" and to "take time to stop and smell the roses", and other things to that effect? And you know full well that they are trying to spare you heart-ache, and trouble, and lost years? And you listen to them and nod and are completely well-meaning in wanting to heed their advice and learn from their mistakes, right? Fast forward, X-number of months/years later and it suddenly dawns on you that what you actually learned from your lost years and your lost chances is that you need not "worry about the little things" and that you should take time to "stop and smell the roses". What I'm saying here, is that advice is great, but for me, it has only really made a difference in retrospect. In those moments where a light bulb turns on upstairs and I realize all of a sudden what my uncle was talking about nearly a decade ago when he told me that it is important to marry someone who believes in God the same way that you do, is something that I look at now and say, "Yes, Uncle Fred, I know." Because I ended up marrying a man who thought NOTHING more important in life than that I know Jesus as my Lord.

Right around the time Isaac and I were married, I received so much advice from friends and family about how to have a good marriage: take time for yourself every once in a while, encourage him to do the same, respect him as the leader of your family, encourage each other in your endeavors. Then little bit, by little bit, over the course of 3+ years, more light bulbs have started to turn on, and this advice comes flooding back.

I sat in the front pew at church today, which I don't think I've ever done. We usually sit toward the back (mostly so we have a quick exit for a Sophia emergency). But today, I sat up front to hear my husband preach a sermon. He is not a preacher, but was asked by our pastor to take the place this Sunday morning. It was hard for him to say yes, and I saw that, so I tried to justify him saying no, letting him know that it would be completely reasonable to do so. In the end, though, he agreed to do it. I sat there this morning and listened to his words, and I laughed and cried and nodded my head countless times as he spoke about physical light that was created by God, and the metaphorical light of the Savior, and then related stories of his own experiences in being a light to the world around him. All of a sudden, the biggest light of all was turned on. I thought if I could go back in time to give myself any marriage advice, I'd tell myself to "encourage my husband to let the Lord work in him". I'd tell myself to "allow each other to take chances for the Lord", and to "be a light to this world through Jesus our King".

Not that it would have done any good, anyway, but I'm glad to see it now.