\u201cHi! You\u2019ve reached Derek and Alex.\u201d I could hear my own voice, recorded months earlier, filling the room. I\u2019d been so excited to say those words, \u201cDerek and Alex\u201d\u2014now one number, one unit. \u201cWe can\u2019t come to the phone right now,\u201d my voice continued.<\/p>\n
I glared over at Derek sitting on my college futon that acted as the apartment\u2019s central piece of furniture. I softly laughed, hoping that would break the tension. We couldn\u2019t come to the phone right now, that was for sure; we weren\u2019t in the mood to talk to anyone.<\/p>\n
\u201cLeave us a message,\u201d my voice practically sang to the caller on the other line. BEEEEP!<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cWell, calling to wish you a happy anniversary.\u201d My father-in-law\u2019s voice rang through the apartment. \u201cSince it\u2019s your paper anniversary, you\u2019re probably out spending lots of paper money.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHa!\u201d I said, looking at Derek. You would think\u2014out celebrating our first year of marital bliss! But no, we were fighting. Fighting about my disappointment with his anniversary gift: a wooden drying rack for the dishes. Fighting about the fact that he hadn\u2019t made plans for us to go out that night because he assumed eating out the previous Saturday night counted as our celebration. Fighting about my generally critical attitude.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs this a joke?\u201d I\u2019d asked as I unwrapped the gift. I was almost speechless, but able to muster up that question.<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought you\u2019d like it. I bought it at that kitchen store at Lloyd Center. You\u2019ll use it every day,\u201d he continued. His motives were probably thoughtful\u2014splurging on something from a foodie store I liked but couldn\u2019t afford to shop at\u2014but his conclusions were dead wrong.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou think I\u2019ll<\/i> use it every day? How about you<\/i> using it every day?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy do you always assume the worst of me? I thought you\u2019d like it.\u201d<\/p>\n
It was the kind of fight where the drying rack started to represent his attitude about my role as the dishwasher in our relationship. And that morphed into his perception of my role as housekeeper in general. In his mind, my instant criticism of the gift characterized my general attitude about him. \u201cYou always\u201d and \u201cYou never\u201d started to fly around the room until we were sitting on opposite sides\u2014him on the futon, me on the sheet-covered chair from my violet-decorated childhood bedroom\u2014staring at each other in silence.<\/p>\n
Our disappointments in the day were representing our disappointments in the last year. Like all newlyweds, we brought distinct expectations to the altar on our wedding day. Mine were based largely on Hallmark commercials and observations from the handful of lasting marriages I saw growing up. My senior year of high school, I\u2019d lived in a newlywed home. My mom and Larry brought lifetimes of experiences and expectations to their relationship that offered unique challenges. So I didn\u2019t see them as a realistic model for what marriage and its arguments looked like.<\/p>\n
There was an upside to all the fighting. It indicated I was starting to feel safe enough to disagree. Derek had married me, and I knew he intended it to be for life. So I could let my guard down a little. I could start having a voice. I think he was relieved I was starting to have opinions.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t pay enough attention to me,\u201d I said when my father-in-law was done leaving his anniversary well-wishes.<\/p>\n
Derek\u2019s face was a combination of disbelief and frustration. It silently barked, Are you<\/i> kidding me?<\/i><\/p>\n
I kept talking. \u201cI don\u2019t feel it. I don\u2019t feel loved.\u201d<\/p>\n
I was starting to get desperate. Not sure really what I wanted to say, but we were so deep into the argument I was trying to claw myself out of the hole I\u2019d created with my earlier words. To prove that he was at fault. For the situation. For my feelings.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you want from me?\u201d He was exasperated. How could he possibly meet all of my needs?<\/p>\n
And that\u2019s when I realized it. I really did expect him to meet all of my needs. I\u2019d heard people say you can\u2019t expect that from your spouse; you must turn to God to meet your needs. But that all sounded like a bunch of Christian noise. Besides, I was going to have a different kind of marriage, a \u201cyou complete me\u201d kind of marriage. In the same instant that I realized my expectations, I saw how faulty they were. Two imperfect people cannot one healed woman make. Only Jesus could do that.<\/p>\n
As clich as it felt, I was expecting Derek to be my Savior. Expecting him to fill the burning hole my father had left. To love me so intensely I would know my worth. When I say it now, it sounds foolishly unrealistic, but I\u2019d lived so long thinking, When I\u2019m married, then…<\/i><\/p>\n
I\u2019ll feel loved.<\/i><\/p>\n
I\u2019ll be happy.<\/i><\/p>\n
I\u2019ll be secure.<\/i><\/p>\n
Realizing all of this, I was angry. Angry at him and at God. I knew my expectations were the root of the conflict, but I\u2019d been working the last hour to prove how right I was and how wrong Derek was. It was hard to suddenly flip and admit my own blaring fault in the issue. I wanted to stay mad at him. Why couldn\u2019t he be more than he was humanly intended to be? I knew it was ridiculous, but that\u2019s what I wanted.<\/p>\n
And I was mad at God. I didn\u2019t want him to be the one I had to turn to\u2014that sounded lonely. I wanted someone tangible. A man who would hug me and kiss me and tell me he loved me in an audible voice. Who would buy me romantic gifts that would be perfect in every way: beautiful AND practical and not over budget. For him to be perfect in every way.<\/p>\n
Derek got up and walked down the hall to our bedroom. As he walked by, I wanted him to stop. To apologize. But he kept walking, and I sat staring at the carpet. Left to pray, \u201cGod, helpme.\u201d<\/p>\n
This is an excerpt from The Artist\u2019s Daughter<\/i><\/a>. <\/i>Used by permission. Revell Books<\/a>2013.<\/p>\n \u201cHi! You\u2019ve reached Derek and Alex.\u201d I could hear my own voice, recorded months earlier, filling the room. I\u2019d been so excited to say those words, \u201cDerek and Alex\u201d\u2014now one number, one unit. \u201cWe can\u2019t come to the phone right now,\u201d my voice continued. I glared over at Derek sitting on my college futon that […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":23,"featured_media":12071,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_seopress_titles_title":"","_seopress_titles_desc":"","_seopress_robots_index":"","_seopress_robots_follow":"","_seopress_robots_imageindex":"","_seopress_robots_snippet":"","_seopress_robots_primary_cat":"0","_seopress_robots_breadcrumbs":"","_seopress_robots_freeze_modified_date":"","_seopress_robots_custom_modified_date":"","_seopress_robots_canonical":"","_seopress_social_fb_title":"","_seopress_social_fb_desc":"","_seopress_social_fb_img":"","_seopress_social_fb_img_attachment_id":0,"_seopress_social_fb_img_width":0,"_seopress_social_fb_img_height":0,"_seopress_social_twitter_title":"","_seopress_social_twitter_desc":"","_seopress_social_twitter_img":"","_seopress_social_twitter_img_attachment_id":0,"_seopress_social_twitter_img_width":0,"_seopress_social_twitter_img_height":0,"_seopress_redirections_value":"","_seopress_redirections_enabled":"","_seopress_redirections_enabled_regex":"","_seopress_redirections_logged_status":"","_seopress_redirections_param":"","_seopress_redirections_type":0,"_seopress_analysis_target_kw":"","_seopress_news_disabled":"","_seopress_video_disabled":"","_seopress_video":[],"_seopress_pro_schemas_manual":[],"_seopress_pro_rich_snippets_disable_all":"","_seopress_pro_rich_snippets_disable":[],"_seopress_pro_schemas":[],"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[100,102],"tags":[127,167,145,146,137,181,160,114],"class_list":["post-320","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-faith","category-relationships","tag-alexandra","tag-dating","tag-encouraging","tag-husband","tag-marriage","tag-reality","tag-thought-provoking","tag-wisdom"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/320","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/23"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=320"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/320\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=320"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=320"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=320"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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