dewde.com » Marriage

Rerun: God and Darwin and Me on One Knee

dewde — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 06:00:43 +0000

In honor of our 11th wedding anniversary, I am rerunning this post. I have been playing with some creative writing techniques and as an exercise I rewrote this in the present tense to give it a more intimate feel.

Happy Anniversary my love! You’re my favorite!

I am sitting in a large, comfortable bus as we take a day-long tour of London. It’s December now and the contrast of the cold outside upon the heat inside has created a perpetually thick matte of condensation on my window. I reach up and write with large, friendly letters the words “Stupid American” into the fog, followed by an arrow that points down and ends where my face begins. The words are written backwards inside the bus so that spectators outside the bus can read them in the right direction. My girlfriend of 4 years is sitting beside me and my family, who lives here in England, is with us taking in the sights and history of the city. My Mom shares with me, “In England a hundred miles is a long distance, but in America a hundred years is a long time.” It is my love’s first trip here, but not mine, and I am beside myself with excitement to show it to her.

I should stop here and say that it has been no secret through most of our courtship that we are going to be married. As we have made our way through college, dating and living separately, we have passed the time by planning our future life together. I have made it a point to tell my love throughout this courtship that she will never know when I am about to ask for her hand in marriage. On several occasions I have told her, “You are going to think you will know when I am about to ask you, but you will be wrong. I promise you will never see it coming.” I am hoping that this will be my brilliantly played victory in psychological warfare.

And so it is not by accident that today is a few days after Christmas, but not quite New Years Eve, and that we are traveling London. My love does not notice one of my hands spending an unscrupulous amount of time in its corresponding pocket. She is far too distracted with everything to suspect that I am guarding a secret in the shape of a diamond engagement ring. She should be curious as to why, as we approach Westminster Abbey, my family has decided to sit outside the historic church instead of accompany us inside, but just as I planned, she is not taking notice.

Together we drink our fill of the 1400 year old abbey which is shaped like a giant cross. This, we learn, is a place where kings were crowned, royal families were sewn together, and national treasures were laid to rest. We meander through the hallways marveling at the names of historic figures entombed in the very floors and walls around us. The anticipation of the impending moment is circling the rim of my heart like a twister circles the chain-link fence of a trailer park, just before leveling it completely. This grand Gothic masterpiece is the final resting place to monarchs and scientists and poets. From Henry V to Elizabeth I. From Geoffrey Chaucer to Charles Dickens. From Sir Isaac Newton to Charles Darwin. We stand in awe, again and again, that surely one hundred years is a mere drop in the bucket of time for a place such as this.

My love and I have reached the center of the abbey, in front of the altar. I looked around, breath in the moment through all my senses, and say…

“This place is beautiful.”

“Yes,” she replies.

“This is the place where kings have been crowned and royalty has been married for hundreds and hundreds of years,” I remark with purpose.

She doesn’t respond.

“This would be a romantic place for someone to propose, don’t you think?” I offer casually.

“Yes,” she agrees softly, admiring something off in the distance.

And then, in the heart of Westminster Abbey, with my would-be wife half distracted and not paying me much attention, I get down on one knee, in front of God and Charles Darwin’s bones, and I cast an anchor into to sea of time that will be ours forever.Popular Posts:

Am I A Husband Or A Project?

dewde — Wed, 04 Mar 2009 18:20:43 +0000

So John just posted a new entry titled I’m A Better Web Developer Than Husband. He says that he is not meaning to compare his wife to a “project” but it instantly made me think of the metaphor. Then I flipped it around in the comments and wrote the following.

The project is you, Husband 1.0. Your wife was first attracted to your 1.0 feature-set. She got by with them at the time, and most of them were quite handy, but they’ve become a bit long-in-the-tooth lately. She’s become more and more frustrated that the promised 2.0 features have been delayed and deployment is behind schedule. And who can blame her? First of all 2.0 is going to rock. It will be more like Dad 1.0 in certain ways and less like Dad 1.0 in certain other ways. Second of all, usability requirements and standards have changed since then. Even so, it is important to keep in mind that these new features need to be done right, and that takes time.

As a husband, though, I can relate to the fact that I often feel under appreciated for the 1.1 upgrades, service packs (SP3), and hot-fixes I have applied to myself over the years as I steadily work on version 2.0 of myself. That’s a real drag. Also, can you really be held accountable for the fact that so many 1.0 features are not compatible with parenthood?? I mean, Husband 1.0 was never even tested for that user base. No wonder it doesn’t behave predictably.

In the meantime, just remind her that the wait will have been worth it. *If* you can actually deliver.Popular Posts:

God and Darwin and Me on One Knee

dewde — Mon, 16 Feb 2009 06:54:05 +0000

I can still remember sitting in the large, comfortable bus as we took a day-long tour of London. It was December and the contrast of cold outside upon the heat inside created a perpetually thick matte of fog and condensation on my window. I reached up and wrote in large, friendly letters the words “Stupid American” (backwards) into the fog followed by an arrow that pointed down and ended where my face sat. My girlfriend of 4 years was sitting beside me and my family, who lived in England at the time, was with us taking in the sights and history of the city. There is a saying my Mom shared with me, “In England a hundred miles is a long distance, but in America a hundred years is a long time.” It was my love’s first trip to the UK, but not mine, and I was beside myself with excitement to show it to her.

Here I go almost getting ahead of myself.

I have to stop here and say that it was no secret through most of our courtship that we were going to be married. As we made our way through college, dating and living separately, we would pass the time by planning our future life “after college.” I made it a point to tell my love throughout this courtship that she would never know when I was about to ask for her hand in marriage. On several occasions I told her, “You are going to think you will know when, but you will be wrong time and again. I promise you will never see it coming.” This was my brilliantly played attempt at psychological warfare.

And so it was not by accident that it was a few days after Christmas, but not quite New Years eve, that we travelled London that day. My love did not notice one of my hands spending an unscrupulous amount of time in its corresponding pocket. She was far too distracted with everything to suspect that I was guarding a secret in the shape of a diamond engagement ring. She should have been curious as to why, when we reached Westminster Abbey, my family decided to sit outside the historic church instead of accompany us inside, but just as I planned, she did not take notice.

Together we drank our fill of the 1400 year old abbey which is shaped like a giant cross. This, we learned, was a place where kings were crowned, royal families were sewn together, and national treasures were laid to rest. We meandered through the halls marveling at the names of historic figures buried and entombed in the very floors and walls around us, all while the anticipation of the impending moment circled the rim of my heart in much the same way I imagine a twister circles the chain-link fence of a trailer park before leveling it completely. This grand Gothic masterpiece was the final resting place to monarchs and scientists and poets. From Henry V to Elizabeth I. From Geoffrey Chaucer to Charles Dickens. From Sir Isaac Newton to Charles Darwin. We stood in awe, again and again, that surely one hundred years was a mere drop in the bucket of time for a place such as this.

When my love and I reached the center of the abbey, in front of the altar, I looked around, took in the moment, and said…

“This place is beautiful.”

“Yes,” she replied.

“This is the place where kings have been crowned and royalty has been married for hundreds and hundreds of years.”

She didn’t respond.

“This would be a romantic place for someone to propose, don’t you think?” I offered casually.

“Yes,” she agreed, admiring something off in the distance.

And then, in the heart of Westminster Abbey, with my would-be wife half distracted and not paying me much attention, I got down on one knee, in front of God and Charles Darwin’s bones, and I made us a little history of our own.Popular Posts:

I Wrote The Constitution

dewde — Wed, 22 Oct 2008 03:16:44 +0000

Before I had children I read a book by my pastor, Andy Stanley. In one chapter he challenged me to think about the goals I had for myself and my family. So I reflected on them momentarily before continuing about the usual enterprise of life.

Then we had our first daughter.

Fathering children has a way of changing a man. I quickly realized that lofty musings and wishful thinking were no way to lead my family. So I went back and re-read the chapter in that book. I took it to heart when Andy challenged me write out my goals for my family. They say if you aim at nothing, you’ll hit it every time. I didn’t want to hit this target. So I opened Google Docs and I began drafting, in the words of http://dictionary.com, a system of fundamental principles according to which a nation, state, corporation, or the like, is governed. Substitute “or the like” with “my family.”

I began drafting a Family Constitution.

It became clear, in short order, that one document would not suffice. Maybe it’s the patriot in me, that my parents raised, but our Family Constitution felt remiss without an accompanying Bill of Rights. So I drafted one of those also, for the children.

After I had worked on it for a while I knew I needed external review. Actually, my new Family Constitution required it! I have a group of close friends and family that I consider my personal advisory board. I mean that literally. I have a group in my address book titled “Personal Advisory Board.” When my drafts were complete, I sent my board the following email.

Now that our family is growing, the time felt right to go ahead and write down some of our goals. Please feel free to question any of them. The wording, the importance, etc. Maybe they overlap, or maybe some need to be divided. Chew on it. Take your time. I guess the main thing I would like your advice on, is if I am missing any huge areas, principles, categories, or topics.

These two documents represent values that [Dewdette] and [Dewde] intend to prioritize as we raise our children and live our lives here on this earth. I’m sure it will be a growing and changing document. It will grow while we grow, as God teaches us lessons throughout our lives. I hope it stays very simple and concise as opposed to wordy or redundant.

That was 2 and a half years ago. Now it’s time to dust this puppy off. Reevaluate. Revise. and Refine.

The Family Constitution

Integrity

To hold honesty as the foundation of our ethics.

To always choose the harder right, as God defines right, over the easier wrong.

To be sincere and genuine in our endeavors.

Charity

To enrich the lives of others with our time and assets.

To always rebuke with hesitancy and gentleness.

To keep a sense of humor.

Wisdom

To obtain counsel of reputable peers.

To listen twice as much as you speak.

To fellowship with God through prayer and study.

And also.

The Children’s Bill of Rights

To be safe and nourished.

To be given love, rooted in patience and tenderness, not contingent on decisions or actions.

To be taught by example hand-in-hand with instruction.

To be given unconditional respect, not contingent on decisions or actions.

To be guided in the skills necessary to navigate life with peace and contentment.

To be forgiven of all trespasses.

To be disciplined with predictability and consistency.

I post them here for two reasons. First, I seek constructive feedback. Especially if you are of an alternate world view. Christians have a history of being terribly myopic. Actually, I have a history of being terribly myopic. And not just in the 5 years since my conversion, but my 10 Atheist years before that.

Second, I hope to inspire you in the same manner that I was inspired. Please consider, if you haven’t already, articulating your goals in written form, as you lead your family. I can name dozens and dozens of changes Dewdette and I made to our lifestyle as a direct consequence of the conversations we had while I drafted these documents.

This is time well spent.Popular Posts:

The Dishwasher and the Jerkhole

dewde — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 03:52:03 +0000

My friend Alvin, the conservative vegetarian, says the Internet doesn’t need another blog that deprecates men. I’m going to do my best not to, however when I score an Olympic gold medal in the 100 Metre Jerkhole, I’m going to say so. Otherwise I’ll just end up doing it again.

The scene begins with me loading our yuppy dishes into our yuppy dishwasher in our yuppy suburb of Atlanta. You can see already that I’m a real person, with real problems. I stood there putting in plate after plate, getting more and more hacked off by the minute. My wife had already loaded most of the dishes before me and I was just topping them off and finishing the job.

The problem is that Dewdette and I were raised to load a dishwasher in two distinctly different ways. Obviously I think my way is “right.” So as I was putting those last few dishes into the dishwasher, the correct way (cough), I couldn’t stand it anymore. My inner jerkhole came out to play.

“Why do you insist on loading the dishwasher this way?” I demanded.

She didn’t respond.

“Don’t you know when you do A, B, and C it causes X, Y, and Z?” I continued impatiently.

Still silence.

“And have you even considered points 1 and 2? I mean… Come. On.” I concluded with an exasperated grunt.

I was in a crappy mood. I don’t remember why but I had probably stayed up too late the night before toying around on the Internet or playing video games. I’m extra cranky when I’m tired.

Once I finished spewing my word-vomit, she looked over at me and said something that cut me to the core and completely disarmed me. In a quiet voice she said,

“The way you are talking to me right now makes me feel like this is the most important issue to you in our marriage.”

Just thinking about it now, as I type this, I can almost feel the wave of guilt wash over me again.

Immediately, I knew she was right.

Immediately, I knew I had to apologize.

I mean, I love our marriage! And I am well aware that we have significant issues that we are working out and making progress towards… but for crying out loud the dishwasher thing isn’t even on the radar! What was I thinking?

Sydney and Savannah,

I don’t know who you will marry one day. I don’t know if you’ll marry a selfish jerk like me, or worse. Maybe years of being exposed to my outbursts and temper tantrums will turn you into insensitive jerkettes.

I do know this. If you are in the wrong you should apologize as soon as humanly possible. And if your spouse is in the wrong please, please, please confront them about it in a quiet manner like your mom did with me here. I’m a work in progress. Chances are, your husbands will be too. How you handle yourself with them will either bless them or curse them.

This is just one example, out of countless others, where your mother’s grace towards me has helped me get to a place I should have been all along. I’m so thankful for her.

Love,
Daddy

Eventually, later that day, I did apologize to my wife. Let’s assume that it’s as easy and fun for me to apologize as it is for you. It’s not pleasant, but it is necessary.

So what about you, reader? Has your inner jerkhole come out to play with your unsuspecting spouse lately? Go apologize. Or have you been the victim of a drive-by word-vomiting? Did you handle it with character or did you vomit back?

It only takes one to break a cycle.

Be the one.Popular Posts:

My Wife Gave Birth to an Uncarved Block

dewde — Sat, 16 Aug 2008 15:36:12 +0000

This is something I wrote a year ago, shortly after Savannah was born. I didn’t really have a blog then so I am reposting it here.

August 10th, 2007

I am now a father. Again. Our newborn daughter is 3 weeks old today.

My wife and I were driving the other day and she made the comment, “Our new little girl is an uncarved block.” Apparently that is one of the concepts from Taoism that she remembered from studying The Tao of Pooh. We start out like an uncarved block of some sort and we are shaped and formed through our upbrining, our environments, and our life experiences into the people we are today.

I think this is true.

Does she know what love is? Does she know hatred? Compassion or mercy? Envy, jealousy, or anger? I don’t mean does she understand the concepts on an intellectual level, that would be silly. But does she feel any of these things?

I don’t think so.

I think at this stage of her life she really only feels generic, high-level emotions and feelings. Like comfort and discomfort. Or satisfaction and dissatisfaction. She is really rather selfish this way. All newborns are, it’s a matter of survival for them.

So it’s up to us. My wife and I, I mean. To model for her the advanced concepts surrounding how to deal with complex feelings such as love and hate and mercy and justice. This is our responsibility that we welcomed and looked forward to before we even decided to have her. This is not our burden, this is our joy.

But as I reflected on all this it occurred to me that I too was once an uncarved block. And the decisions I have made throughout my life have contributed to my current shape and form. It is not just our environments, our upbringing, and our experiences that shave layers off our block, we too have a hand in the sculpting process. We have influence and on a spiritual level, I believe we are accountable for it.

How I wish I could uncarve certain areas of my character. Or better yet, if only I could re-carve them. I could go around as Dewde – The Re-carved Block. Need a little less selfishness? No problem! How about some extra forgiveness towards others? That would be splendid. Let us not forget humility and benevolence. Never more in short supply!

My wife and I are very deliberate in our parenting. We know we are not the only sculptors that will be chiseling away at our daughters as they move from uncarved blocks to beautiful works of art. We hope and pray that Jesus will play a pivotal role. We hope and pray that their friends and family will do them justice. And we hope, with all our hearts, that they themselves will pick up their chisels and desire to work on themselves as a lifelong process.

All we can do is point them in the right direction and model it for them ourselves.

Note: I realize I have completely butchered Taoism and the principle of the Uncarved Block. My only excuse is that I’m a Christian, not a Taoist. I mean no offense.Popular Posts: