As of today, Adrian and I have been married for 111 days, which for people who had a “hobbit birthday party” themed wedding, is a significant number. 

I wish I could say that in those 111 days I’ve grown ever so much wiser and that every day has been more wonderful than the first and that we’re living in the bliss of “happily ever after” and all those lovely, romantic things that people say about honeymooners. But the truth is, real life isn’t really like that. That isn’t to say we’re falling into the statistics of people who claim that the first year of marriage is the hardest. As much as it hasn’t been living in the intoxicating infatuation of the honeymoon phase, neither has it been the disillusionment of that horrible first year of marriage many people bemoan. It’s been somewhere decidedly in-between and it’s been primarily characterized by a lot of sacrificial, agape love. Frankly, I can think of no better way to begin a life together. 

We had two readings at our wedding (the second one) and both point to the loveliness of normalcy. 

The first reading was an excerpt from Anne of Avonlea by L.M. Montgomery which details the moment Anne realizes she’s fallen in love with Gilbert. 

“Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare...perhaps it crept to one’s side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages...perhaps…perhaps…love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship...” 

The quote meant a lot to me personally because Anne is my most kindred spirit and Anne and Gilbert are my ultimate OTP.  There was nothing I wanted more than to find love in this same fashion and to my absolute wonder and delight — that is exactly how it happened. Wanting to find romance via friendship isn’t perhaps as exciting, as Montgomery explains. There is no pomp and blare, no moment of ecstasy where the world seems different now that you’ve met “the one” but in my mind, it is far more beautiful. Because before the romance even begins, you’ve had the opportunity to grow together. It’s also far more vulnerable — to ask to change the rules on an established friendship can lead to pain for both parties if it’s not reciprocated (as Gilbert and Anne also demonstrated) but to me, when it works, it is the most beautiful thing in the world. I’m not even being biased because that’s our story. It’s genuinely been my ideal for as long as I can remember. My second biggest complaint* with the Hunger Games is that Katniss chooses Peeta instead of Gale. I mean, she probably should have ended up with neither or Collins should have killed one off, but in my mind, she belonged with Gale because Anne and Gilbert belonged together and love from friendship is the best love. Seriously, check the romcoms. Best friends to lovers has to only be second behind enemies to lovers as far as romantic comedy tropes go. But despite all that, it can be a rather ordinary love, or at least that’s how the transition period feels.

The switch is fairly seamless and the switch into marriage has been even more so because it just feels like you’re doing life with your best friend, but instead of having to learn what that really means, you already know because you’ve been doing it (albeit differently) for years already. The silly frustrations of toilet seats and mess are gone and even communication is already easier because you have some experience there. In short — it’s wonderful and comfortable and incredibly easy to be vulnerable and it feels so safe and warm. It’s just not always exciting. Which brings me to the second reading we had. 

“Being in love is a good thing, but it is not the best thing. There are many things below it, but there are also many things above it. You cannot make it the basis of a whole life. It is a noble feeling, but it is still a feeling. Now no feeling can be relied on to last in its full intensity, or even to last at all. Knowledge can last, principles can last, habits can last; but feelings come and go. And in fact, whatever people say, the state called “being in love” usually does not last. If the old fairy-tale ending “They lived happily ever after” is taken to mean “They felt for the next fifty years exactly as they felt the day before they were married,” then it says what probably was never was or ever could be true, and would be highly undesirable if it were. Who could bear to live in that excitement for even five years? What would become of your work, your appetite, your sleep, your friendships? But, of course, ceasing to be “in love” need not mean ceasing to love. Love in this second sense — love as distinct from “being in love” is not merely a feeling. It is a deep unity, maintained by the will and deliberately strengthened by habit; reinforced by (in Christian marriages) the grace which both partners ask, and receive, from God. They can have this love for each other even at those moments when they do not like each other; as you love yourself even when you do not like yourself. They can retain this love even when each would easily, if they allowed themselves, be “in love” with someone else. “Being in love” first moved them to promise fidelity: this quieter love enables them to keep the promise. It is on this love that the engine of marriage is run.” - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

I’ve loved this quote ever since I read it many years ago, because it affirmed my dreams of marrying a friend and not seeking that “happily ever after” life but also because he spoke truth about love. Often, because the English language is lacking, we can become confused about what love means and as a result we can often proof text the Bible (looking at you 1 Corinthians 13). We can think love means romantic, self-seeking love. But the love in the Bible and the love that fuels marriages is sacrificial love. It’s love that daily dies to self and puts others first, in the context of marriage that means putting your spouse first, but it also extends beyond that. Love, as Christ demonstrated for us, isn’t just for our marriages — it’s to show to the whole world. Sacrificial love is meant for everyone we meet. Marriage is the vehicle that helps us grow in that practice. 

So how have these first 111 days been? They’ve been fun, lovely, comfortable, joyful, safe, warm, and not in the slightest intoxicating or rapturing. They’ve also had moments of conflict, frustrations, sadness, hurt, fear, and pain but they aren’t awful either. They’ve been 111 days of dying to self, learning to put one another and others first, learning to communicate clearly and graciously, to set proper expectations and to understand that we don’t think like one another. They’ve been 111 days of laughter and joy beyond belief and sleepy morning cuddles, board games and video games and dreaming about the future. Ultimately though, because we believe that even our marriage exists for purposes beyond ourselves, we hope that these 111 days have been days of glorifying God and bringing joy to others. We hope that as we continue to live life together, we’re iron sharpening iron and helping each other become more like Christ. We hope that the self-death we experience daily reaches beyond our home and into our relationships with everyone we encounter. We want our marriage to transform us into the people that God has called us to be and we’re pretty sure it’s already happening and we’re incredibly thankful for that. 

I’m so grateful for the past 111 days and the joy that it is being Adrian’s wife but I’m really looking forward to the next 111 days and the years to follow because even though the newness will wear off and no one will want to ask about our wedding anymore (except maybe the children), I know we’ll be more like Christ then than we are today and isn’t that the whole point of life, anyways? 

So I’ll take normalcy over fantasy, prose over poetry, and that steadfast agape love over intoxicating romance every day of the week from here until eternity. Because friends, if I’m honest, I only really have room in my heart for one “happily ever after” fairytale ending and it’s not with Adrian or myself. It’s with someone far more superior. But more on that next week. ;).

*Finnick Odair’s death is my number one complaint; literally chucked the book across the room. I still get heated about it today.