You can never really quite picture what life will be like in fifteen years. There are vague fragments – more a play of light than anything tangible – and naive hopes of what we might become.
When we got married at the start of our 20s, we planned to change the world – living life from a caravan with meagre worldly possessions. We were youthful and passionate, desperate to make a difference in a hurting world.
It didn’t exactly turn out the way we expected.
Dave became a youth pastor and I strapped myself into the ‘pastor’s wife’ role, opening our doors at any hour, baking and setting up, planning services and being a part of the band. He moved from church role to church role, and we packed up each time, leaving behind friends and homes to settle into a new place.
It wasn’t a bad experience on the whole. We met lovely people, found a chance to correct our mistakes in every fresh start and lived a life filled with activity and purpose.
We scrimped and saved to take memorable trips – first our honeymoon in Thailand, then a two week jaunt to Vietnam, a road trip around both islands of New Zealand, then a whirlwind tour of Italy just before heading to Poland to witness my sister get married. It was in these moments that we came alive – dreaming of what life could be if we just gave it a good shot.
Dave switched to teaching and I became a lawyer. We started a church for those who didn’t fit the system – starting with a group of eight meeting in our living room in Narre Warren. Turns out running a church is a lot harder than we expected. Though we do have so many fond memories of that decade, most of us stumbling into the twilight zone of newborns and toddlers while trying to remain somewhat functional. We made deep friendships, with shared experiences that will continue to bond us into the future, despite having finished up any formal gatherings of Tribe for two years now.
In the midst of the unfolding years, we had four children – me leaving behind my career after Hudson was born and choosing to stay home. It was a decision that both made and slayed me. Motherhood was nothing like I imagined – a sort of Maria von Trapp and Marie Poppins mash-up – I would be firm but kind, have a tinkling laugh and be fabulously dressed at all times. The reality was rather less glamorous – repeating myself ad nauseum, attempting to reason with screaming children, spew trickling down my back after a midnight feed. The intensity of those years has mercifully faded a little, and we now exclaim with fondness over photos from that era – zooming in on the cuteness that we somehow glossed over at the time.
Dave’s ever-present ability to find something greater to aim for provoked resentment in me, until I finally found my own path in a moment of somber clarity. Writing became my adventure – first in this blog, a historical fiction manuscript (which is languishing on this computer somewhere), a role as a writer in residence for BHCS and now in the middle of creating my (upper) middle-grade fantasy/adventure series. I look back on the little steps that led to where I am now with a sense of quiet awe and appreciation. Who knew that those first bleary-eyed posts to get through the PND haze would lead to something so rewarding now.
Fifteen years feels like a milestone. A time for reflection and gratitude. Because what I know now without a shadow of a doubt is that I love my life and what it has become. I love what we have built together and the family that has blossomed in the midst of it all. There have been moments of deep anguish along the way (a miscarriage, alcohol dependency issues, the death of Gus, grandparents departing, car accidents, injuries and sickness for both us and the kids), but these blips aren’t what linger. When I look back, I see a kaleidoscope of beautiful memories – much laughter and fun, trips and adventures, milestones and birthdays.
We have learned that marriage is as much about being willing to change as it is about holding true to who you are. It is about allowing the other’s strengths to draw you up, and offering your own humbly in return. It is about respect and gratitude, standing together in the storm. It is so much about the little moments – doing the washing together, checking the kids each night, the little check-ins and texts throughout the day. We’ve found great freedom in the Enneagram and its ability to explain how we approach conflict differently, realising that the other’s way of viewing the world is actually a gift rather than an inconvenience.
This year we took the opportunity to escape to the city for a night, leaving the kids in the capable hands of each pair of grandparents (thank you!). We lingered over every moment – from the now-traditional trip to Vinnies, the delicious late lunch at Dawson and a leisurely check in to the Stamford Plaza. We strolled the city and took in the sights, settling in for mouth-watering tapas at Bomba. The conversation ebbed and flowed, and we mused at what life might look like in another fifteen years. The smoky haze of the East Gippsland bushfires had settled over the city and we caught up on news reports with sorrow, feeling utterly helpless for those who have lost so much.
The morning dawned clear and bright and we took a quick swim in the rooftop pool before heading to Brick Lane for brunch. Some of our favourite times were just walking around the city, noticing little details which sparked memories and ideas. There were little easter eggs along the way, like the mineral water at Dawson being from Hepburn Springs (the place where Dave asked me to marry him) and glimpses of locations that reminded us of trips taken in years past. When your day-to-day reality is predominantly taken with parenting young children, these moments to step back a little are invaluable.
Serendipitously, some of my writing friends who I had only ever met on Twitter were doing brunch at Higher Ground that morning, so I was able to pop in and catch up with them while Dave wandered the streets thinking and reflecting. It was so nice to be able to connect with the people who I’ve been checking in with each morning at 6am and share stories and laughs together.
Fifteen years. It is at once nothing like I imagined, and everything I hoped for. That I get to live out this adventure with Dave by my side – working together closely and creating books and courses, figuring out this crazy parenting gig and escaping on mini jaunts along the way – that is what makes it for me. We have seen each other at our best and worst, weathered many a financial and emotional storm, confronted difficult crossroads and shared exhausted but exhilarated smiles at the end of a long day.
As the minutes slip through our fingers and our children stretch inches – gradually leaving behind the chaos and intensity of the early years – we take the time to look upwards. Towards a faithful and loving Creator who has sustained us throughout it all.
I’m ready for the next phase, but a little wistful at the thought of leaving the last era behind. May we open our hearts fully and seize the fleeting magic of the moment, pouring out ourselves into work of value, taking risks for the good of others and always be faithful to the truest part of our beings. May we come to soulfully embody and understand the extraordinary gift of true love.
