Transparency

We talk about a lot of things on this blog.

Ministry.  Parenthood.  Video games.  Bad haircuts.  Love.  In all of it, I have one goal, which is transparency.  If I’m going to run a blog about my daily life, where I share my opinions, tell stories, and expose my life to people, transparency is a necessity.  I struggle for it, and with it, each time I write something here.

I ask myself questions like, “How much is too much?”, and “Did I overshare?”.  The problem with transparency, to me, is that it is addictive.  When I come here and talk about something I’m dealing with, or tell a story about my family, the negative emotions associated with those things drift away.  Coming here helps me to process what i’m feeling and what is really going on beneath the surface of an issue.

A few months ago, one of the guys in my life that I really consider to be a mentor brought up this blog, and one of the first things he pointed out was the level of transparency that I’d been writing with.  Originally, I hadn’t noticed, and I’m being honest when I say that.  I was just writing whatever came into my head and out of my fingers as I typed.  But, as I tried to figure out what this blog would and wouldn’t be, telling stories about my own faults, failures, triumphs, and strengths just came naturally.  I was proud, then, that someone had noticed my transparency even when I hadn’t, because that meant that I was willing to share my life with people.

It’s risky to be transparent in our culture, especially in ministry, where a wrong step can see you crucified for something you’re still in process of figuring out.  That’s a risk I’m willing to take though, due to the fact that transparent people connect with their intended audience more.  Since I work daily with people, I want them to know that I’m approachable, that I’m friendly, and that I have faults too, just like them.  I never want to give off the impression that just because I’m called to ministry means I’m on top of some tall ivory tower and cannot be approached.

So, until something changes, I’ll continue to write about all my problems, my fears, my joys, my wins, my losses, and everything in between.  Because that’s what I want people to know about me: the whole story, nothing edited or censored.  Because, after all, don’t we all long for that?

For someone to really know us, as we truly are?

The Hardest Thing

Birthday couple

I can totally understand why Paul told his audience in 1 Corinthians 7:8 that is was better to remain single.  In fact, he said it this way:

To the unmarried and widows I say that  it is a good thing for them to remain single as I am.  

That’s not to say that I hate marriage, as some people think Paul did.  On the contrary, I love being married.  Let me say that again, so that you sense my enthusiasm.  I LOVE being married!  I have an awesome wife, and no, life isn’t always exactly like I want it, but with God’s help we’ve carved out something pretty beautiful to me.

With that said, I want you to know that I totally understand why Paul said that because marriage is hard stuff.  And there is nothing, NOTHING, that can prepare you for it.  Before we got married, Erin and I read all kinds of books about marriage.  We read The Five Love Languages, and His Needs, Her Needs, and a bunch of others.  We also had counseling with our pastor, and we talked to friends who were already married.  And on our wedding day, I thought I had it in the bag.

Nothing prepares you, however, for how to comfort your bride when you walk into the door of your rent house the day your honeymoon is over and she sits down in the floor and begins to cry.  

Nothing really prepares you for the first time you have that REALLY BIG fight and she won’t even talk to you.  

Nothing prepares you for the fact that you are literally mashing two lives together, squeezing them so tightly that they liquify and become one, details and pasts and thoughts and personalities oozing together into one glorious soup of a future.  

Somehow, through all of the things that no book and no counselor could ever prepare us for, Erin has chosen to stay with me.  And for that, I am eternally grateful.  No words I could ever write, type, or sing, could ever fully express how in love with her I am, and how thankful I am that I wake up beside her each morning.

Tomorrow we will celebrate our 9th year of marriage and begin our 10th by doing what we always do on our anniversary: go to Vacation Bible School.  Somehow, it always seems to fall during this week, and to us, that’s ok.  It’s just another one of those bumps in the road that books and such don’t teach you about.   

Marriage has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but also the most rewarding.  

I love you, Erin Foley Estes, and asking you to marry me was one of the best, hardest things I’ve ever done.

Shall we go another year?