The Feast of St. Joseph | A Fellow Human, A Saintly Spouse

STEPHANIE FRIES

Today is the feast day of St. Joseph: foster father of Jesus, spouse of Mary and head of the holy family. He was a carpenter, he was a man.

When we look to Joseph, we see a man who surrendered himself to the direction from an angel in his dreams. We read how he obeyed the command of God, loved and served Mary as his chaste spouse, and raised Jesus, the son of God, as his own earthly son.

PHOTOGRAPHY: MARY KATHERINE PHOTOGRAPHY

Have you ever imagined when Mary and Joseph lost Jesus in the caravan, only to find him days later, preaching to adult men in the temple? My heart goes out to Joseph. The parameters of his mission were simple: love, protect, and guide Jesus and Mary. All in all, through obedience and grace, Joseph fulfilled his calling. But in this experience of losing Jesus and consoling Mary, I imagine Joseph was tempted to worry and despair.

Years later, Joseph died when Jesus was 30-years-old, on the brink of his public ministry. I picture Joseph lying on his deathbed, preparing to part from his earthly life. Joseph must have felt both sorrow and joy as he left his family with anticipation for his son’s powerful mission. I imagine the deep sadness of Jesus and Mary who said goodbye to their beloved.

Reflecting on the stories of Joseph bring his humble holiness to a human reality.

As we gaze at Joseph in statues and paintings, recall stories of him in Scripture or reach out to him in prayer, we encounter a friend. He is so approachable; a human man who intimately encountered the divine every day. This man who we rightfully honor with holy veneration was conceived with original sin. He was as human as me and you.

In the vocation to married life, we are sacramentally offered good and holy gifts such as intimacy, vulnerability, and companionship. Receiving and living out these gifts can often send individuals and couples to the heights of love, or can expose a raw wound of human brokenness. Perhaps in a moment of insecurity we believe, “I am not enough.” In the midst of an argument we fear abandonment. In prolonged frustration and anxiety, we despair and lose trust in God’s providence.

It may be easy to admire an icon of Joseph, Mary and Jesus and assume the immense joy in their family life. Amidst the celebration of such pure trinitarian love of the family, I hope against hope that there were days Joseph wished he could love Mary better. Or days when he was disappointed by how he received Mary’s perfect love. Joseph’s imperfections are the only stains of sin in the holy family, yet his entire being—holiness and imperfection combined—was destined for his specific vocation.

Through both his human imperfection and pure intention, God empowered Joseph to love Mary, show Jesus about the love between a husband and a wife, and receive love from his family. In the same way, we are each called to be fully present with God in our unique vocation, to love with virtue despite our own shortcomings.

God has so carefully woven two lives together in your marriage. On the days when your sinful, selfish, or short-sighted human nature is too much to bear, remember goodwill and purity of heart are enough for love. In striving to love and be loved, moments which expose brokenness do not define a limit for love. Rater, these moments help us identify where grace and mercy can provide healing. Joseph’s example offers peace and encouragement to every person, for our hearts to become a channel for God’s love to shine through.

St. Therese of Lisieux offers encouragement to little souls, to those who recognize their long journey to perfection, “Agree to stumble at every step therefore, even to fall, to carry your cross weakly, to love your helplessness. Your soul will draw more profit from it than if, carried by grace, you would accomplish with enthusiasm heroic actions that would fill your soul with personal satisfaction and pride.”

You are human. Joseph was human. If he could fulfill his vocation to the Holy Family, you can fulfill your vocation in your own holy family. You were created for a mission exactly where you are. As you bring your completely human heart to God, you will grow—with an ever-deepening purity of heart—in the capacity to love and be loved.

St. Joseph, you sought to bring glory to God in every action and word. Together with your pure heart, Mary’s Immaculate heart, and Jesus’ Sacred heart, guide me to embrace my human imperfection with humility so that I may receive God’s mercy and grow ever more deeply into the virtue of my vocation. St. Joseph, foster father of Jesus, pray for us.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Stephanie Fries is Spoken Bride’s Editor at Large. Stephanie’s perfect day would consist of a slow morning and quality time with her husband, Geoff, a strong cup of coffee, and a homemade meal (…with dessert). Read more

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The Confidence of a Covenant

STEPHANIE FRIES

As husband and wife come together as one body in the profession of marriage vows, man and woman are united through covenant. Though it is not only their participation in the sacrament which binds them ‘till death, but God’s active presence as the third member of the triune union. This truth of trinitarian love can become a source of confident peace “in good times and in bad.”

God desires to fill our minds and hearts with faith, hope and love. In our human experience, we are often tempted to despair. I invite you to reflect on the triggers which test your resilience against fear or doubt in your vocation. When we collaborate with God, he promises to give strength to our weakness and drive out fear through the grace of the sacrament.

PHOTOGRAPHY: ALEX KRALL PHOTOGRAPHY

The deep intimacy of marriage and call for ongoing transformation is an experience of vulnerability and exposure. This vulnerability has the potential to reflect beauty itself, imaging the original nakedness and shamelessness of the human heart in God’s perfect design—before the fall to sin. Yet for some, myself included, the raw exposure of body, heart, and soul can initiate feelings of self-doubt, lack of trust, or worry for the future.

We are only human; we are not immune to fear.

Fear can take many forms in our lives, such as tension, defensiveness and a short-temper towards others, or apathy and hopelessness towards important matters. Whatever its form, fear affects our relationships.

In my own experiences, I can internalize my emotions, over-analyze circumstances, and seek means to gain control. Fear also materializes in the form of a question, a litany of asking, “what if?,” in times when God is calling me to surrender and trust his providence.

Any number of circumstances can provoke personal discord, such as separation over a distance, challenges with fertility, conflict involving extended family, financial burdens and professional stress. This list is nowhere near comprehensive of the challenges in family life. Yet no conflict or origin of fear is too big or too ugly for God to redeem, especially through the unbreakable bond of covenant.

Despite our brokenness, here is the source of unfailing, sanctifying hope: the sacrament of Matrimony is indefinitely bound to the gift of grace. “Christ dwells with [married couples], gives them strength to take up their crosses and to follow him, to rise again after they have fallen, to forgive one another, to bear one another’s burdens, to “be subject to one another out of reverence for Christ,” and to love one another with supernatural, tender, and fruitful love.”

He pours out his love to us and through us. The life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ created an unbreakable promise of love from God to his children. The vocation to married life is an invitation for us to participate—with God and our spouse—in this promise. Our responsibility is, simply, to remain in him.

When our value, security or identity is threatened by fear, the courageous Christian response is love. 1 John tell us, “There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear.” We do not acquire this perfect love through our own effort. Rather, we remember “God is love, and whoever remains in love remains in God and God in him. In this is love brought to perfection among us.”

If we honestly identify our source of fear—as an individual or as a couple—and share it with God in prayer, he can begin to restore our hearts and our lives. We eventually break free from the chains of fear, love others in greater abundance, and receive love without hesitation or doubt. In essence, we fulfill our human design to love and be loved. We catch a glimpse of sanctification in our marriage, family, and community.

“Jesus has not placed on spouses a burden impossible to bear, or too heavy… It is by following Christ, renouncing themselves, and taking up their crosses that spouses will be able to “receive” the original meaning of marriage and life with the help of Christ. This grace of Christian marriage is a fruit of Christ’s cross, the source of all Christian life.”

Marriage is a party of three: man, woman, and God. Through our wedding vows, we are infinitely bound to both our spouse and our Creator. In seasons of sorrow or despair, courageously choose love. Enter more deeply into raw intimacy with trust. Enter more honestly into prayer with hope. When temptation to fear abounds, we are invited to stand with confidence upon our unbreakable sacramental covenant, in union with the presence of God, and anticipate the fulfillment of perfect love.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Stephanie Fries is Spoken Bride’s Editor at Large. Stephanie’s perfect day would consist of a slow morning and quality time with her husband, Geoff, a strong cup of coffee, and a homemade meal (…with dessert). Read more

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Newlywed Challenge | 3 Simple Ways to Reduce Screens in Your New Marriage

MARIAH MAZA

True confession: I love my screens. I love my phone that allows me to stay in contact with friends and family, listen to all my favorite podcasts, and stream my Amazon Prime watchlist. I love my laptop, on which I complete most of my work and writing projects, both at home and away at the local library or coffee shop.

But for all their wonderful uses, screens can also easily take up the majority of our attention--to the point that their bright and noisy distraction numbs us to a sad reality: the slow replacement of intimacy in a relationship with self-absorbed technology.

It is a problem that can spring up especially in the initial transition from the single life into a married home. Bad technological habits that previously affected only yourself can suddenly have a very apparent and negative effect on your spouse, the person you now see everyday and share a bed with each night.

In fact, this is exactly what happened to my husband and I. Very soon after the wedding, I began to notice little, unexpected things in our marriage that felt “off” because of the presence of a phone, laptop, or TV screen:

When we would talk to each other, eye contact wasn’t always being made because one of us would be on our phone as we spoke. After a while, I began to feel painfully unheard and unseen simply because of the lack of “eyeball time” in our conversations (which is what I started to call it).

Later when we went to bed, we would bring our phones with us out of habit, scrolling and watching videos while laying next to each other, but not interacting. I began to experience an unrest in my heart, like the sacred space of our “marriage bed” was being invaded by our screens.

It didn’t take long for me to begin to resent the crowding presence of technology in my relationship with my husband, because I desired a deeper intimacy that seemed to be blocked by YouTube videos and my overuse of Facebook. Bad habits needed to be broken, but it wouldn’t be an overnight process.

Breaking screen habits can be very difficult, but for engaged couples or newlyweds, there are simple ways to prevent or reduce the overuse of technology in your new marriage before it becomes a problem. And it doesn’t necessarily require a total screen detox. By having an honest and vulnerable conversation with your fiance or spouse, I challenge you to safeguard your intimacy by trying one (or all) of these three tips to achieve a healthy “digital minimalism” in your vocation.

Go without a TV for the first 6 months

Be bold! If you are gifted a nice flat screen for your wedding or already have a TV, keep it safely packed away in storage. If you don’t have one, don’t worry about buying one. Not for the first six months, anyway.

Now imagine the unique foundation you could build in your new marriage without a working TV in your home or apartment. What fun, creative traditions could you begin? Instead of binge-watching your favorite shows together, find entertaining board games at a nearby store or friend’s house that you can play together. Go on a drive and explore the local area. Find a tasty new recipe and cook dinner together. Read a favorite book out loud to each other. Dedicate certain hours to prayer as a couple.

While a cozy movie night on the couch can be a wonderful date idea, I challenge you to discover a life without TV, and let yourself be surprised by all the memories you may not otherwise have made. Does six months sound too long? Try it for one month, or even a week after you settle into your new life together.

No phone zones

This is a very important boundary to set in your married life, and one that I forgot to seriously consider.

Ask yourself where the distracting presence of a phone screen could most hinder or infringe on intimacy in your marriage, whether it be spiritual, emotional, or physical intimacy.

Some crucial “no phone zones” could be the bed, the dinner table, or car rides.

In these special places, both you and your beloved agree to set down or turn off your phones and allow the focus to be on each other. In these places communication, eye contact, and self-giving love can thrive without distraction. If you are like me and use your phone every night as an alarm, consider placing it on a nightstand--or even better--on a dresser further away so you can’t reach for it in the middle of the night.

Download app timers

Most people are completely unaware of how much time they actually spend on different applications on their phone, laptop, or tablet. Utilizing apps that keep track of how long you spend on time-sucking platforms like Instagram or Facebook can be a shocking wake-up call to the reality of screen overuse.

There are also apps that lock you out of your phone for a specified time or shut down specific applications after a timer goes off. Some of these include OFFTIME, Forest, App Off Timer, and AppDetox, but there are dozens more options available.

Download a few and see which work best. If you notice your screen time decreasing and the quality of your marriage increasing, you’re doing something right!

So much about newlywed life sets the foundation and habits for the rest of your marriage, and your first year together is a special time that won’t come again. With this in mind, strive to start off strong with an intentional focus on your intimacy that builds confidence, trust, and respect.

So talk about boundaries now, not later. Be honest about your bad screen habits, make a realistic plan, and agree to hold each other accountable. This is just one way to practice sacrifice for the good of your spouse, an element of marriage that will come up again and again and again.

When I learned how to sacrifice my phone time out of love for my husband (even though it felt small), the bigger sacrifices that inevitably came in marriage didn’t seem as intimidating. And by the grace of God, we started practicing healthier habits: time limits, putting the desires of the other first, intentional intimacy-building activities, and persistent prayer.

Now I cherish every moment of precious eye contact so much more, and I feel more seen, heard, and known. When I see my husband put down his phone to come over and ask me about my day, my heart fills with joy and gratitude. Our marriage has been put first, and a little victory has been won.

God tells us that “a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.” With each little victory over distraction, we become more and more “one flesh.” Don’t let a screen come between your marriage and this amazing sacramental mystery. Enter joyfully into it with your beloved, and watch how the Lord blesses your union.

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About the Author: Mariah Maza is Spoken Bride’s Features Editor. She is the co-founder of Joans in the Desert, a blog for bookish and creative Catholic women. Read more

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Newlywed Life | There Is Grace in Recalling Your Wedding Day.

HANNAH GRAHAM

Shortly after my husband and I were married, I mentioned to a friend that I thought about our wedding day a couple times a week, if not more. I recently ran into this friend again at a wedding reception, not long after our first anniversary. Seeing me again, she inquired as to whether or not this was still the case, curious if marriage had impacted that habit of regularly remembering our wedding day.

Photography: Mackenzie Reiter Photography

I was happy to answer that experiencing the realities of married life is part of why I still contemplate and reminisce about that day just as often. The ceremony, Mass, the wedding party, the friends and family, the dancing, speeches, and pictures. Even after having our first child, I think about how profoundly those moments impacted us.

That day crosses my mind often, not only because it was the beginning of my vocation and the best day of my life, but because my life with my husband has become a reflection of that day.

The individuals who witnessed our vows still hold us accountable in our faith and vocation. We are still challenged by the Church to live our marriage as a witness to God’s love, in the same way we chose to that very first day. In the trenches of parenthood, two jobs, and living away from family, we are still asked to give ourselves--body and soul--over to the other.

I play through those grace-filled moments to remind myself of the high call my husband and I entered into, particularly when the crosses feel heavy.

In the midst of a million distractions, looking back on the intense desire my husband and I had—and continue to have—for the Lord refreshes the dusty parts of my soul.

I once heard it said that the grace God gives a couple in the sacrament of marriage is just as powerful as the grace he gives a priest to change ordinary bread into the body of Christ. Despite the heaviness life can bring into a marriage--financial struggles, misunderstandings, family tensions-- the wedding day is a reminder that laying down one’s life for another is a joy when done in love. This is what married life truly demands of all those who enter into the divinity of the sacrament.

If you haven’t done so, consider bringing your wedding day to prayer when you face challenges in your vocation. Doing so can remind you of the grace you are capable of calling upon, as well as the joy with which you entered into this union.

Even if you don’t face any immediate crosses in this particular realm, reflecting on the day with your husband can renew your desire to love selflessly and foster gratitude towards the Lord for how far you have come. Regardless of how long you have been married, reminiscing on that very first day will keep you aware of the truly divine romance you became a part of.

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About the Author: Hannah holds a Bachelor of Arts in English along with minors in Theology and Catholic Studies.  She currently pursues her passion for freelance writing from her home in Minnesota, where she lives with her husband and son.   

Ash Wednesday Reflection | Memento Mori + Marriage

MARIAH MAZA

Memento, homo quia pulvis es, et in pulverem reverteris.

“Remember, you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” (Gen 3:19)

Ash Wednesday begins a period of deep internal reflection and penance. So as we walk into the dimly lit churches on the first day of Lent, let the solemn silence enter your spirit, and enter again with a vulnerable heart into the Paschal Mystery: the Passion, death, and resurrection of our Savior, Jesus Christ.

“Teach us to count our days aright, that we may gain wisdom of heart.” (Psalm 90:12)

The cross of ash we receive on our forehead is both an external sign of our sinful mortality and a reminder of the Divine death that was suffered for our salvation. An often-forgotten ancient spiritual penance comes to mind: the practice of memento mori, a Latin phrase that reminds us, especially in this season of Lent, to “remember your death.”

“Let us prepare ourselves for a good death, for eternity. Let us not lose our time in lukewarmness, in negligence, in our habitual infidelities,” admonishes St. John Vianney. And so, let us not remember our inevitable death with fear, but instead illuminated in the Christian hope of Eternal Life that awaits us beyond the threshold of our earthly lives.

In her devotional Remember Your Death, Sister Theresa Aletheia Noble reminds us “Jesus has defeated humanity’s greatest foe—permanent death in sin. All that remains for us to endure is bodily death. And Jesus has transformed even this fearsome reality into the doorway to heaven.”

“The Cross changes everything.”

Yes, let us remember death. Because “in whatever you do, remember your last days, and you will never sin.” (Sirach 7:36). Because each numbered breath, starting today, is one more reminder to live, to hope, and to love.

And for those who are engaged, newlywed, or veteran married couples, allow the practice of memento mori to become something even more profound: as you prepare to become one flesh--or already live one in flesh with your spouse--remember the death of your beloved.

Remember your vows you will make, or have already made. Remember you vowed “until death do us part.” Remember that part of the sacramental vocation of marriage is to prepare your beloved for a saintly death. You are called to help each other to Heaven.

“Then he said to all, “If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.” (Luke 9:23-24)

Beginning today, with your fiancé or your spouse, help each other to carry your crosses as we walk the Way of the Cross with the Church. Whoever follows Christ will die with him, the God who didn’t even spare himself from the pain of death, but whoever follows Christ will also rise with him.

“Death is swallowed up in victory. Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” (1 Corinthians 15:54-55)

Memento mori.

Further reading: Sr. Theresa Aletheia Noble’s first 20 pages of her new Lenten Devotional Remember Your Death.

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About the Author: Mariah Maza is Spoken Bride’s Features Editor. She is the co-founder of Joans in the Desert, a blog for bookish and creative Catholic women. Read more

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Change is Both Good and Hard: Wisdom from The Lion King

STEPHANIE FRIES

Have you seen the movie The Lion King? The characters are lovable, the songs are catchy, and the story is metaphorically relatable. Walt Disney produced a movie to not only entertain an audience, but to also share wisdom about real-life experiences such as growing up, surrendering anxieties, forgiving and receiving forgiveness, and pursuing a destiny.

When I recently rewatched the movie, I was struck by a scene which reflected my personal experience as a newlywed. In the context of the film, Rafiki, the baboon whose character is as colorful as his face, has encountered young-adult Simba. Rafiki is hoping to convince Simba to return to the pride land--the home where he would be King if not for the evil manipulation of his Uncle Scar.

PHOTOGRAPHY: ELIZABETH M PHOTOGRAPHY

In their conversation, Simba curiously looks into the sky and says, “Looks like the winds are changing.”

Rafiki responds, “Ahh, change is good.”

In an honest reply, Simba says, “Yeah, but it’s not easy.”

There is a dance in the tension between “both” and “and.” Both Rafiki and Simba. Both good and hard. Both joyful and painful. Both triumphant and agonizing. Both glorious and sacrificial.

When I approach the personal and circumstantial changes which have accompanied married life with the conviction that change is only supposed to be good—as fruitful and enjoyable—I create unrealistic expectations. I expect myself to adjust to a new environment with a level of gracefulness, simplicity, and ease that nears perfection; therefore, making a mistake or asking for help is a sign of failure. In this half-true perspective, I am overwhelmed by my constant mistakes, I am frustrated in my insecurities, and I bring tension into my marriage.

Can you relate? Do we allow ourselves to admit that change is both good and hard?

By shifting my perspective and embracing this whole truth, I become more gentle with myself. I align my will with what is good, and I simultaneously recognize the limits of my human capacity when the circumstances are hard. When I am at peace in understanding perfection is not possible, I accept tender affirmation and encouragement from my husband without denying his kindness. I grow in the fruits of the spirit.

Sisters, it is okay—freeing, in fact—to admit when something is just plain hard. All the while, our attitude can be both confident and humble; confident that, “I can do hard things,” and humble to say, “I can’t do this alone.” The honest and humble heart creates space for God to guide the way.

Consider how the season of engagement proclaims, as Simba says, “the winds are changing.” As we recall from Scripture, “A man leaves his father and mother and clings to his wife, and the two of them become one body.” Marriage prep classes and wedding planning are visible signs of the active journey of two becoming one—a journey which continues for many years. Throughout those years, husbands and wives will be faced with innumerable new circumstances, transitions, and opportunities for change.

Saying I do is like dropping a rock in a pond and the resulting changes in our lives are the waves which ripple from the impact.

The ripple effect of external changes in married life could include moving to a new house or city, making new friends, creating different routines, establishing new hobbies and schedules, having a baby, sharing spaces and materials with your spouse, eating different foods, etc. The list goes on and on and is ever-changing with the seasons of our lives.

These adjustments, as simple as some may be, are both good—in the way they are a part of sharing a life together—and hard—in the demand for selflessness, virtue, discomfort, and surrender.

In addition to the external adjustments, our hearts undergo a transformation as well. Marriage requires a thousand deaths so we may grow together anew. By its nature, death is painful. Yet submitting to death-of-self, as a free and faithful act of holy love, is affirmed by God’s grace and supported in good community. Both good and hard. As we grow in self-awareness, intimacy with God, and intimacy with our spouse, we can enter more deeply into the trinitarian unity our hearts desire.

God knows every detail of the transitions in our lives. His grace will shine through each circumstance in a unique way. Do we trust his wisdom and glory? Or are we distracted by unfulfilled perfection and seemingly-useless suffering? The attitude and perspective we choose in each experience shapes our lifelong journey to holiness and our relationships with others along the way.

As we are honest with ourselves, we can be more gentle with ourselves. These attributes—honesty and gentleness—are not signs of carelessness or complacency, but of faithful cooperation with the Father of Mercy.

There will certainly be days when we have to dig deep, work hard, or push through temptation to accept certain changes in our lives. There will be days when we are surprised by joy and overwhelmed with the peace and freedom of change. Regardless of the emotions of experience, the truth echoes from the words of Rafiki and Simba, “change is good, but it is not easy.”

Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. Is God calling you to practice more honest self-talk? Does he yearn to offer you healing in the Sacrament of Confession? Does he want to show you the freedom in surrendering your expectations for perfection? In what new circumstance does God want to shower you with his mercy? Journey deeper with him this liturgical season to experience both the pain of the crucifixion and glory of the resurrection as we fulfill our vocations to love.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Stephanie Fries is Spoken Bride’s Editor at Large. Stephanie’s perfect day would consist of a slow morning and quality time with her husband, Geoff, a strong cup of coffee, and a homemade meal (…with dessert). Read more

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Why I Value My Love Story's Flaws

ABIGAIL GRIPSHOVER

Sometimes it seems the best stories are the ones that involve the most hardship. As a writer and bit of a romantic, I always hoped my love story would be a good one. However, I did not realize until after I was married that the many difficulties my husband and I faced while dating were the very things that would make our story exactly what I hoped for, one worthy of retelling.

Photography: Emma Dallman Photography

This theme has continued into our marriage, and I have come to realize that our struggles are cornerstones, forming a strong foundation for the life we are building together; one that will hopefully last many decades and weather even the worst storms.

My husband and I were very fortunate, because we were each other’s firsts. We shared and experienced those magical little romantic things together: the specialness of the first date, the thrill of holding hands for the first time, the shyness of the first kisses lightly placed on cheeks. We made the most of our tiny college town, slowly filling every corner of it with memories that would never be forgotten.

But we also had to learn love’s hard lessons through each other.

I slowly came to the realization that this other person did not always see things the way I did, and I had to accept that his fears and opinions were different than mine, yet still deserving of respect.

We experienced the difficulty of growing up and changing while spending late nights and stressful study sessions trying to understand who we were after all of this.

During those formative years, it was all too easy to blame our own individual problems on each other.  After too many cycles of forgiving, forgetting, then falling into the same harmful patterns, it seemed like we were doomed to keep hurting each other, and we parted for what I believed to be the last time. He transferred schools and went back home while I returned to a very lonely campus to finish the second half of my junior year.

We were young, gullible, and at times, very dramatic. But we loved each other, and in the end, after some space and time, desperate prayers and tireless persistence on the part of my dear husband, we called our friends to tell them that we were not only back together, but also engaged and getting married in a few months.

Even though we were long distance, both of us living and working from home at this point, being engaged was truly incredible. It felt like the world was sparkling and everything we planned, whether it was the flowers for the church or the layout for our new apartment, promised to be perfect. We were married on a beautiful, warm day in February, and the wedding was even more than we hoped. It was intimate, elegant, and full of visible love.

But as our married life began, a distance fell between us we had never experienced before, and it seemed to grow and warp as the first week of marriage stretched into the first six months.

There was so much we didn’t understand, so many ways we were unprepared for what was coming. New responsibilities caught us by surprise and normal mood swings were interpreted as personal attacks. We felt like we came from different planets, and the peace we had reached together only months before seemed to crumble in our hands.

In our first year of marriage, we moved twice, changed jobs, lived long-distance for over a month, confronted broken promises, and fell under the curse of chronic illness. Money was tight, tensions were high, and hurts ran deep. And so we prayed. We prayed harder than we ever had before, reached out for help, and remembered our vows. We had committed to each other, and we were not going to give up now. Scott Hahn once said,

“The grace of the sacrament does not make marriage easy, it makes it possible,”

We called upon that grace to save us. In response, God healed us and gave us the eyes to see the reasons for our hardship. We were able to recognize him guiding us as we renewed our promises.

When we stood before our family and friends on our wedding day and vowed to forsake all others for each other, we had no idea those vows would be tested so quickly. I always assumed the “for better” part came first, and the “for worse” part came later, and learned that is not always the case. Yet through our Lord’s grace we stayed. Our love became like a broken bone, stronger once healed than it ever was. As we live through our second year of marriage and continue to face new hardships, we have been able to lean on each other.

When we wake up side by side and look into the eyes we fell in love with, we both feel so grateful God gave us to each other. We both are brought to tears when we think of everything we would have lost, had we given up during the hard times. And now, as we both wonder at the movement of our little baby still growing inside me, we cannot wait to watch our life continue to grow through the hands of the Lord into so much more than it ever could have alone.

In the song “Enough to Let Me Go,” the band Switchfoot writes,

“If it doesn’t break your heart, it isn’t love.”

Even though I liked the song, I never understood that verse. This love story of mine has changed that. Marriage can be truly heartbreaking, but not always in bad way. Sometimes it breaks my heart because it is just so incredibly good.  My poor, feeble brain cannot comprehend or process the outpouring of love, delight, and gratitude that surges through me when he wakes up and smiles at me or takes my hand in the grocery store while we talk about ridiculous things.

Our love story is only beginning. Though I may be biased, I can say I’m thoroughly hooked and cannot wait to see what the next chapter holds, even if it’s a difficult one.

After all, God is the original author, and he knows how to write a good ending for every type of story. Especially a love story.

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About the Author: Abigail Gripshover is a part-time editor/social media manager and full-time housewife.  When not working, you can find her catching up on book club readings, rearranging furniture, or organizing her planner while listening to music.  She lives at the beach with her wonderful husband, and they are expecting their first baby. 

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Struggling to Balance Work, Vocation, and New Motherhood? You Aren't Alone.

EILEEN MARINO

On my wedding day, it was easy for me to look at the man I loved, excited to create a home and family with him. To shepherd him to heaven and let him do that for me. When I looked at our friends joining the priesthood or struggling in single life, I was even more overcome with gratitude. How lucky was I to have found my vocation so young, and to have a partner who would help make things easy and joyful!

I was right in how blessed I was, but easy is now the last word I would use to describe my vocation.

I hear love is a verb. It’s much easier to choose sacrifice when you’re on a honeymoon high and want only to dote than it is to let your spouse sleep in the middle of the night when your baby starts screaming.

I knew marriage--and the Catholic faith at its core--is to lay down your entire life and will for Christ. Doing it joyfully has been the most humbling lesson of my life, one I could only learn through the throes of marriage.

When I got pregnant earlier than I anticipated, I didn’t expect my joy to mingle with sadness. We had talked about children and thought my staying at home with them would be best for our family. Yet my career was such a huge piece of my vocation that leaving it earlier than expected felt a lot like dying.

So here I was at twenty four, trying not to blame my husband for this position while feeling like it was his fault, trying to put on a good face through an incredibly painful pregnancy, and trying desperately to let go of the sadness I felt to be having a child. I felt like a terrible person for sharing love with guilt.

And then our son was born. My world exploded and our marriage crashed into an entirely new dimension. We had just learned how to live together, communicate, and give things up to make the other happy, only to make room for another even needier human. The baby needed so much attention we literally had no time for our relationship as husband and wife.

I worked for seven months more, thinking if I worked while my baby was young, I could still have that time to chip away at this non-mother piece of me before my son got too big. In every moment I wasn’t caring for my son, I was struggling: to hit deadlines, to make us food, to clean the house. To take a shower once every few days. Ultimately, I realized it wasn’t possible anymore and drove to work sobbing as I prepared to give my notice.

It’s a story I’ve hashed out many times in the months since. And I’m home now, which makes me both terribly sad and indescribably happy. It’s only recently that I’ve had enough perspective to reflect on what this all has done to me--to the three of us--and the what now? piece I had been desperately searching for.

Why is this admittedly self-centered tangent even relevant to marriage? Because marriage, as I’m learning, is not about me. And it is not easy.

Being a wife, a mother, a Catholic--and hopefully someday, a saint--means taking on a cross and laying down my life. I’m not trying to be heroic about this, and it is not something I do only with grace every day.

But in the months since letting go of my job, my son has grown so much more full, happy, and joyful. He is leaping across the expectations we had for him; bringing joy to everyone we see, everywhere we go; he is flourishing, in large part, because of the new attention I’ve been able to love him with. He needed me.

My husband and I have, for the first time since I gave birth, had time together. Because I’ve had some time to get chores done I no longer need to work until midnight, I’ve been able to get our son down for bed at the same time every night. We have our nights back to heal, take time together, talk about where we are struggling, and date each other again.

My husband saw how sad and scared I was and has been able to love and comfort me; I was finally able to be vulnerable with him. And I was able to see how I was stretching us all too thin, and in making a decision to give something up for him, he is flourishing too now. There is a peace and a calm in our house that had been missing when everything felt desperate and urgent.

Being a partner--being in it this deep with my husband--is the hardest thing I’ve done in my life. I don’t have all the answers yet, and I may never have them.

I am not advocating that women give their identities up for their families. That’s not a vocation.

But seeing the fruits of my particular call in this season have reminded me my life is bigger than me, for more than me. And so is marriage. Leaving my job, for this season, was a decision best for my particular family, and maybe not for yours, which is alright and good. Perhaps I will find a more flexible job outside of nine to five that lets me work again in the future. For now, I will grow a little boy’s soul and be a balm to his father’s. Being a Catholic, being a Christian, being a spouse, means dying every day for something greater. And eventually, it will mean wanting to.

When we were dating, my husband and I frequently read the writings of John of the Cross--He read to me from The Living Flame of Love a few minutes before proposing! I’ll leave you with a piece of these words. This is marriage, and this is our joy:

O sweet cautery, O delightful wound! O gentle hand! O delicate touch that tastes of eternal life and pays every debt! In killing you changed death to life.

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What's in a Name? | Married Names, Maiden Names, and the Decisions We Make

STEPHANIE FRIES

As the dust begins to settle around the whirlwind of wedding planning, a new journey begins to unfold. Together, and with time, you and your spouse will grow into your identity as a married couple. In the midst of this exciting season, there is a vital decision to confirm your new family’s identity in choosing your last name.

When it’s time to fill in that blank on the legal documents, couples generally have the option to take either the bride or the groom’s last name, hyphenate both last names, or create a new name. Although the decision surrounding a married couple’s last name is morally neutral, many women are convicted in their beliefs on a wide spectrum between keeping her maiden name and taking his. If you are curious why a woman would willingly abandon her own family name or if you desire to articulate the reasons why you did, understanding the physical and spiritual nature of men and women may help.

PHOTOGRAPHY: OCULI CORDIS MEDIA

The history of a bride taking her groom’s last name is rooted in English common law. The practice for creating a thread of surname lineage was centered around establishing both a legality of marriage and set boundaries for couples in regards to acquiring property or business. These standards were eventually adopted in practice in the United States. With the onset of “family names” passed from a father to his newborn child or from a groom to his bride, additional laws, norms, traditions, and opinions began to take root throughout growing cultures both nationwide and worldwide.

Of course, from a legalistic point of view, an immediate perspective assumes that the man claims dominance over the woman when she officially takes his last name. This misguided belief has been the origin of women’s oppression, including, for example, a woman’s right to vote. Because we are a world of imperfect humans, a tradition with the potential to celebrate the gift of marriage and family has been twisted into oppression and abuse.

As a reaction to oppression or because of shifts in the secular definition of marriage, women identify several reasons to keep her maiden name, such as convenience, preference, personal identity or equality of power. Other times, academic careers or professional publications are the cause for a woman to maintain her identity through her last name.

Regardless of the history of societal wedding traditions or the secular, modern approaches to marriage, our legal actions cannot be separated from our spiritual being. Because a human being is body and soul, our physical actions and decisions—including changing our name—proclaim what we understand to be true about being a human.

Therefore, when a woman accepts the last name of her new spouse, she emphasizes the dignity of her femininity as she reveals the legal, physical, emotional and spiritual union with her beloved.

This statement may sound like a surprising contrast to the general “feminist movement.” Many feminists through decades past—and present—would argue that a woman should keep her maiden name in order to claim equal rights, stand up for herself, and maintain her independence. But if we carefully define “what is feminine,” we will find empowering support for woman to fulfill part of her femininity by receiving her husband’s last name.

To understand what it means to be woman through a Christian anthropology, we go to the story when woman was created: in the garden of Eden with Adam and Eve. “So the Lord God cast a deep sleep on the man, and while he was asleep, he took out one of his ribs and closed up its place with flesh. The Lord God then built the rib that he had taken from the man into a woman.”

Eve received life, physically and spiritually, by the rib of Adam and the hand of God. With her first breath, Adam received her as a gift to fulfill his desire for union with another. We hear Adam’s joyful relief when he says, “This one, at last, is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh.” And as he accepted her, Eve simultaneously received man as a gift for her own fulfillment of self-knowledge. Saint Pope John Paul II explains, ”The exchange is mutual. In it, the reciprocal effects of the sincere gift and of the finding oneself again are revealed and grow.” This cycle of giving of self and receiving the other between man and woman is the epitome of holy, joyful, spousal union as God intended.

Scripture shows us woman’s initial receptivity to life and the love that followed. Although both man and woman are called to give and receive in acts of love, our bodies help define receptivity as a naturally feminine quality. Consider the intimacy of the wedding night and the bride’s physical receptivity of the groom. Or at the moment of conception as the woman receives a child in her womb.

This is not a gender stereotype, but a celebration of what it means to be woman and how we are called to love man: by receiving every part of him as a cherished gift.

Yes, when a wife takes the last name of her husband, she surrenders her maiden name and, perhaps, part of her identity which was secured in that name. The emotional struggle of letting go of a maiden name emphasizes the reality that a name has value to a person’s identity.

For a husband to offer a meaningful gift of his identity—his name—is a beautiful and masculine act of love. When a woman accepts his last name, she is not practicing an outdated, man-driven tradition; she fulfills her femininity in a selfless act of receptive love. In the way only a woman can.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Stephanie Fries is Spoken Bride’s Editor at Large. Stephanie’s perfect day would consist of a slow morning and quality time with her husband, Geoff, a strong cup of coffee, and a homemade meal (…with dessert). Read more

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What Does it Mean to Belong to Your Spouse?

STEPHANIE CALIS

The song my husband and I chose for our first dance includes the line, “I want to belong to you.” The words resonated deep within, evoking something free, intimate, permanent.

As we said our vows at the altar I felt the weight of commitment and distinction, grace made tangible and distinctively binding us together. The very gravity of our promises made them romantic to me: faithful love forsaking all others, fruitful love that wouldn’t stop at the two of us, free love that willingly desired exclusive belonging, total love that saw all of me.

Photography: MessyFace, seen in Heather + Matthew | Rustic Family Wedding

I thought I got it at the time. I thought my husband and I shared a healthy sense of vulnerability and a spirit of loving encouragement and correction. In many ways we did, and continue to.

But in the months and years since, I’ve seen the ways in which seemingly small matters make me fall short of letting myself belong entirely to my husband, calling me into communion over division.

There have been times I’ve clung to wounds received and inflicted in past dating relationships, allowing them to hold sway even after I thought I’d moved past them. It’s only been more recently, as I’ve waded fully into this pain for the first time, that I’ve shared the fullness of embarrassment over my past actions with my husband. I hadn’t intentionally withheld these thoughts earlier in our relationship; their magnitude and resulting unrest only surfaced later on, the fruit of deeper insight and self-examination.

Holding on to the past, I realized, was a distraction from my present.

I was sacramentally united to my husband and desired to rid my mind and heart of the past. He loved me still. He encouraged me to offer my humiliation--a true sense of being humbled--to the Lord, praying for freedom and interior peace.

There have been times I’ve retreated inward, too embarrassed and ashamed to admit fault in actions both minor and major. Yet each time I’m tempted to keep my mistakes to myself, I feel the restlessness creep in. The overwhelming desire to share, tempered by fear. Being seen in the fullness of who you are is thrilling, though terrifying. He loves me still.

Even in my shame, I am loved. Even in admitting the regrets and misjudgments I’m scared to bring up, my husband is gentle and forgiving. I’ve come to understand belonging to him as an invitation to take off my masks. An invitation to reveal who I am and who the Father calls me to be.

A healthy sense of belonging to my spouse has, for me, amplified an awareness of ways in which I ultimately belong to the Lord.

However imperfect in this life, the purpose of each vocation is to make manifest God’s love. My husband’s love—so patient, merciful, total, and accepting—shows this to me. I am known; I am seen; I am beloved. It’s not unlike the sacrament of reconciliation, in which we find ourselves tenderly embraced in our brokenness. We leave armed with the grace and resolve not to remain the same, but to stay the course in pursuit of greatness. The word reconcile, after all, is rooted in the Latin word for “to bring together.”

Are there small cracks and nagging divisions tugging on your own heart, drawing your attention to ways in which your relationship can grow in total honesty, trust, and intimacy? Though always a work in progress, I can’t attest more to the joy and freedom of transparency and accountability that embody the Father’s love. Saint John Paul II has interceded for us from the start, and I frequently recall his motto, totus tuus. This phrase, “totally yours,” expresses his trust in Our Lady to bring him to her son; in our marriage, we make this our same prayer.

If you find yourself, like me, suddenly seeing ways in which you can belong to your spouse more entirely, I encourage you to enter into them, even when you’d prefer to run. Sit with your mess, let yourself feel any pains of your shortcomings, and move forward--with prayer, practical steps, and, if necessary, spiritual direction or counseling--knowing you’re not just moving for movement’s sake, but toward a beautiful pursuit: being brought together--reconciled--with both your earthly and heavenly beloved.

“But now, thus says the LORD, who created you, Jacob, and formed you, Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name: you are mine. When you pass through waters, I will be with you; through rivers, you shall not be swept away. When you walk through fire, you shall not be burned, nor will flames consume you.”

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About the Author: Stephanie Calis is Spoken Bride's Editor in Chief and Co-Founder. She is the author of INVITED: The Ultimate Catholic Wedding Planner (Pauline, 2016). Read more

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Becoming Radically Available to Love

STEPHANIE FRIES

Nearly 18 months ago, my friend returned from her inaugural FOCUS missionary training with a palpable enthusiasm to build community, love others, and make her love for Jesus visible in the world. She returned with a suitcase full of books, business cards, pamphlets, and ideas. She was eager to fundraise her salary and move to a new college campus for the start of the school year with the undergraduate students she would come to know, mentor, and disciple towards Christ. She was ready to serve where God had called her.

Her selfless demonstration of service as a missionary has influenced and inspired my identity as a wife.

PHOTOGRAPHY: MEL WATSON PHOTOGRAPHY

Although I admired my friend’s zest and zeal through her process of discerning missionary life, I was cautiously curious about the details of her new routines. What was it, exactly, that she would do once she arrived on campus? I have not forgotten her response to my question:

“It’s about being radically available for others.”

This use of radically enlists a sense of wonder and mystery. Being available for someone is standard, like answering the phone but calling back later if something is going on. But being radically available means clearing the schedule and committing the rest of the day to talking on the phone.

While she committed to a dating fast for her first year on the job, I discerned my vocation to married life. Months later, her commitment to be radically available for her students has influenced my understanding of what it means to be a Christian wife in service of God and my husband. All in all, we are talking about vocations to love.

A holy missionary is wholeheartedly committed to being a faith-filled friend, mentor, confidant, and image of Jesus. We can look at the way Saint Mother Teresa befriended families in India and how Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati gave the coat off his back to the underdressed stranger. We may recognize missionaries in our midst and see how they surrender their plans and expectations to answer a call from God to build community with others.

Although I am not called to serve as a missionary in the world, do I bring a missionary heart of charity, service, and friendship into my own home?

To be radically available to another reminds me of the standard “stop, drop, and roll!” response when a person catches on fire. Yet when a significant matter arises in someone’s life, it is the one who is radically available who lovingly stops and drops everything in order to roll to the other’s side.

Saying I do on the marriage altar opens a door to the daily invitation to love my spouse. To love is more than an emotion, it is an act of the will. There are a number of factors that affect our heart’s approach to service: external pressures, internal insecurities, hormonal mood swings, lack of exercise or sleep, political conflict, social conflict, and simply feeling overwhelmed (to name a few). But we make a vow to love--and to serve--on the good days and the bad days.

Yet, in truth, I wrestle with the tension between selflessness and self-care. Christ tells us, “love your neighbor as you love yourself.” Does this mean we can momentarily push pause on loving others so we can escape to love on ourselves? How much am I willing to surrender for the sake of my spouse’s joy? Or comfort? My God-given responsibility as a wife is to work for my husband’s salvation; is his earthly happiness worth sacrificing my own personal pleasures, comforts, and opinions on certain matters?

Consider decisions as small as keeping the thermostat at a certain temperature, agreeing on specific holiday traditions, or choosing between music, television or silence as background noise in your home. Then there are decisions to read a book alone or spend quality time together, to sleep in or wake up early to make breakfast for your spouse.

Even in meager moments of surrender, I am encouraged by C.S. Lewis’ wisdom to “submit to death of your ambitions and favorite wishes… and you will find eternal life.” I am increasingly intrigued by the invitation to be radically available than by the alternative to be content in my own pleasures.

In every decision to choose the other, our individual identities fade and we become more fully united through acts of love.

As Catholics, we are privy to the benefits of the sacraments—and prayer—as fuel to keep loving when our tanks run low. Christ also says to “love others because he loved us first.” He makes himself radically available so that we, too, may love with an everlasting love—on the good days and the bad days.

Living a life of service and radical availability can challenge both our human nature and cultural norms. Who do we look to as models of charity? How often do we receive God’s merciful love to refill our tank? Do we elicit affirmation from others as permission to turn inwardly or as encouragement to serve others with virtue?

My prayer is that you and I can make a choice to fulfill the call to love by being radically available to someone this week, with the persistent hope of establishing ever-deeper bonds of charity in our homes and communities.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Stephanie Fries is Spoken Bride’s Editor at Large. Stephanie’s perfect day would consist of a slow morning and quality time with her husband, Geoff, a strong cup of coffee, and a homemade meal (…with dessert). Read more

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Newlywed Life | 10 Ways to Feel Grounded in Your First Months of Marriage

SINIKKA ROHRER

You’ve walked down the aisle, finally united in Christ and ready to begin your life together. After your wedding day, however, there is no more premarital counseling or assigned mentors to help you navigate your first year of marriage.

If your experience is anything like mine, the newlywed season can feel isolating and confusing. Here, from my husband and I, 10 tips for the first months of your marriage, and beyond.

Photography: Soul Creations Photography, seen in Sarah + Brian | Country Chic Wedding

Set up household responsibilities.

It might seem obvious, but someone needs to do the dishes. If you don’t decide who will complete which chores, it’s likely they either won’t get done or will foster resentment. To bypass frustration, start fresh by setting up what works best for your daily routines--whether that’s you doing the laundry and dishes and your husband waxing the car and making dinner, or the other way around.

Create a family routine.

Consider when you’ll work out, have dinner, go to bed, and have some quiet time with the Lord, either alone or together. Your days now include another person, so establishing routines will not only make your house feel more like home, but give you a sense of community and unity.

Determine your family values.

When you wake up each morning, what three things do you prioritize no matter what your day will look like? My husband and I decided to write down our family values shortly after we were married to help keep us accountable to our priorities. Our three values are faith, family, and fun. Every year, we talk through how the year looked through the lens of each of our values.

Talk about your expectations.

To me, the most important virtue in a relationship is communication. From the most difficult circumstances to the easiest of days, communication is what will make or break a marriage. When you first start out on your journey together, you might find communication is hard and be tempted to not talk through frustrations you are feeling toward your spouse. But it’s during these exact times that it’s imperative to communicate, creating a foundation of honesty and unity.

During our newlywed days, my husband and I found that I expected he would be exactly like my dad, with dinner to be on the table every night at 5 PM. While I tried my hardest, it was almost impossible for me to do as a working wife. It was only after months of internalized pressure and silent anger that I learned my husband’s expectations were totally different than what my father had of my mother; it was only then that I could finally relax into what our relationship would truly be like.

Join a parish and, if possible, a couples’ ministry.

Marriage allows you to truly set foot into community together. That looks like finding a parish you can consistently attend and feel connected to. Consider also joining a married couple’s small group--or start one--and begin forming foundational relationships with other newlyweds and married couples. God willing, these friends can help and mentor you through the journey of married life.

Set boundaries with family.

The changes of marriage can be especially hard if you’re very close to your family members and highly regard their opinions. Scripture says a man will leave his family and become one with his spouse, and this is no less true for women. Instead of turning to your mother or sister during difficult times, as might’ve been your habit in the past, marriage marks a turning to your husband, and your family should be aware of that. To ensure no feelings are hurt, I recommend open conversation about boundaries with your family, such as where you’ll be spending the holidays and how often you’ll be calling your mom.

Explore intimacy together consistently.

During the beginning of marriage, physical intimacy may not come naturally or easily. You might even desire to not be intimate with your spouse after the wedding night if it was not initially a pleasant experience. While all relationships are different, the Lord has designed man and woman to be together in marriage, and intimacy is a critical part of your relationship with your spouse. With this in mind, my husband and I challenge you to continue learning, growing, and exploring intimacy together consistently in order to arrive at a place of comfort for both of you.

Open a joint bank account.

Marriage unites you not only spiritually, but practically--that includes finances. I recommend opening a joint bank account and start paying your bills. Money is one a hot-button topic when couples experience conflict, so I highly encourage you to start your marriage with setting a budget and identifying financial goals you can work toward together.

Invite your neighbors over for dinner.

The Lord has made marriage in the image of his love for the Church, which means your love is made to impact those around you. Boldly reach out to whomever your neighbor is in your new home, and invite him or her to dinner. Get to know those who live around you and become part of your community, so that you can be the hands and feet of Jesus, right where you live!

Volunteer together.

Make the effort to serve your church or community together. This is another way that as a married couple you’re able to be Jesus’ hands and feet and share the testimony of his love with others--so get out and volunteer together!

Your first year of marriage is a foundational time for you and your spouse. This means every day, every week, and every month that passes will include both moments of hardships and good growth in your relationship. We hope these tips offer you guidance as you navigate this sacred ground, and we wish you the best as you begin your journey to Christ together.

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About the Author: Sinikka Rohrer is a Christian wedding photographer and Spoken Bride vendor on mission to encourage brides with practical and spiritual encouragement on the way to the aisle. She is a lover of all things healthy, early morning spiritual reads, and anything outdoors.

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NFP = Nervous Family Planning? The Joys and Struggles.

KATE THIBODEAU

You’re newly engaged; glowing with happiness, showing off your glimmering left hand and so excited to start this new journey with your fiancé. You’ve met with your priest, set the date, and expect marriage preparation will be a wonderful experience. One in which you’ll grow as a couple on this adventure to heaven together. Everything sounds like the fairy tale you’d always dreamed of.

Photography: Her Witness Photography

You’re set to take your Natural Family Planning course, eager to prepare for becoming a responsible and pro-life Catholic family. You can totally tackle NFP! A mix of science, faith, and marital self-sacrifice: what could be a more simple, practical, and generous method in which to grow a fine and faithful Catholic family?

Those feelings and emotions are all good, beautiful, and true. NFP is an enormous gift to the families who desire to be prudent and selfless, cooperating with God to bring children into the world.

However, after taking my NFP course during engagement, and then after actually following it as a married woman, I found that the glamorous reports of success I’d heard took me by surprise. Instead,I found myself struggling--failing, even--to learn and practice it..

 Thanks to my mother, I grew up well aware of my body’s fertility signs and familiar with NFP since I was a little girl. When trying to learn it four months prior to my upcoming wedding, I started with typical complaints, particularly taking my temperature each morning at 6 A.M, even on days when I could have slept in. Early wakeups became a daily cross. I became aware of my  daily routines that needed to be changed. I quickly realized the inconveniences of this new, constant awareness of my own body and of sharing my findings with my husband.

Conversations before marriage about NFP don’t always illuminate the little mistakes and troubles found along the way: forgetting to take your temperature, inconsistencies rooted in  stress, an inability to understand your fertility symptoms and record them correctly, a lack of full understanding. I realized there was a myriad of ways in which I personally could fail in the practice, not just the idea, of NFP--ways I was unaware of in the past, when my knowledge was more limited.

I found myself disheartened, especially when listening to other couples tell me of their great successes. I felt like a failure for being unable to clearly read my fertility signs, and felt the weight of guilt when I opted to switch to a different method. I doubted my ability to enter into a self-giving marriage with my husband, where we would be responsible in the task given to us as future parents.

It took several months, a loving and supportive husband, and God’s severest of mercies on my beginner’s errors to find peace in my mostly complicated relationship with the amazing gift of Natural Family Planning. Here are my takeaways, from much trial and error:

Be patient with yourself!

NFP is not supposed to a one time victory, but many monthly victories that allow you to know your body and your spouse better with each cycle. Don’t allow stress or fear of failure to dampen your resolve. I found the stress of learning NFP greatly affected my fertility, which made it all the more difficult to track. Had I more patience and forgiveness with myself, my learning curve might have been more even-keeled.

Comparison is the greatest fiend of self confidence, and I found it took a toll on my process.

I was too busy shaming myself for my struggles and comparing them with my peers’ successes to see the benefits of NFP. The method you choose and your discernment is dependent on you, your spouse, and God. Ask--and trust in--Christ to guide  your instincts.

Every woman’s body is different, just as every couple expresses love in different ways. Allow your couple friends to empower and encourage you in your quest, but do not succumb to self-doubt from comparison. I found sharing in vulnerability allowed me to see how pointless my tendency to compare really was. 

NFP is ultimately a blessing and a sacrifice.

NFP is truly a fruitful way to work with God and your spouse to determine when you are called to bring forth children. It is difficult in practice, but its fruits include a more valued intimacy and understanding with my husband, a sacrificial death to desire, and a dependence on God’s timing. We are grateful for the work and frustration, as well as the unity we have found through this journey together. We’ve been able to love each other better, knowing we’re in support of God’s will for our future family.

 I’ll continue to sing the praises of NFP even in my vulnerability and perceived failures. To all brides who are struggling, know you are not alone!

 Have patience with yourself, seek out support, and ultimately trust in God’s mercy. Natural Family Planning should not be a cause for anxiety or stress concerning perfection, but a gift to you and your husband as holy and responsible parents. You--with God--have got this!

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About the Author: Recently married to her best friend and partner towards salvation, Kate Thibodeau is learning how to best serve her vocation as a wife while using her God-given talents. With an English degree from Benedictine College, she strives to live in the Benedictine motto: that in all things, God may be glorified. Kate loves literature, romance, beautiful music, pretty things, wedding planning, and building a community of strong Catholic women.

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The Marital Blues | Navigating the Unexpected Emotions of Transitioning into Newlywed Life

MARIAH MAZA

I got married on a warm, sunny December day in the desert of Arizona. It was a day I had spent the better part of a decade waiting for.

My fiance and I were high school sweethearts, so we had known each other for over seven years by the time we walked down the aisle. We spent the last three years going to college two hours apart, meaning I only saw him every couple weeks. It also meant I spent most of our engagement and wedding planning without him.

To say my heart desired for the day when we could finally go home together, and not face one more tear-filled goodbye as I watched his Chevy truck fade into the distance again, was an understatement.

Now, looking back on our wedding pictures fills my heart with joy every time. We were both beaming with excitement and anticipation, and our families rejoiced with us.

During the quiet minutes in the car between our nuptial Mass and reception, I remember watching my new husband’s face behind the wheel.

He was quiet, in the way one is quiet when contemplating a new and profound mystery.

I was his wife. He was my husband. These were realities we had only dreamed or joked about for seven years. In our minds, we had moved from forty years in the desert into the Promised Land. The veil of the married life had begun to lift. All was celebration, community, and grace.

Two days after the wedding, on New Year’s Day, we packed up the rest of our things and drove two hours north where my husband was still finishing school. I looked at our tiny one-bedroom apartment like it was a castle, and we were the king and queen of our little kingdom.

Most importantly, it was ours. I could tell him “let’s go home” if we were out at the store, and “home” was finally the same place. “Goodbye” meant he would be back later that evening, after school. “Goodnight” was something I whispered to him laying beside me in our bed. It was everything I had wanted for so long, and I was happy.

That’s why the sudden mood swings hit me so hard.

After a week or so, I started crying. A lot. I cried everyday, and I couldn’t figure out how to tell my husband “why” in coherent words. I was just sad. For no reason. Life suddenly felt pointless. The motivation to do anything seemed to be gone--even after four intense, hard-working college years.

I was a bad wife because I wasn’t joyful anymore. At least, that’s what I told myself.

Something was wrong with me, and my poor spouse didn’t know how to help. Newlywed life was supposed to be the land of happiness, and I felt miserable.

On top of my unexplained crying fits, the crosses of marriage started to slowly appear. I realized how easily I was provoked, how little I actually desired to sacrifice out of love for my husband, and how often I snapped at him because of the smallest annoyances.

Little conflicts over little things pierced my already hurting heart, and the differences in our personalities and habits reared their ugly heads. Even seven years of dating had not perfectly prepared me for living with this other person.

It wasn’t until I desperately opened up to a friend over the phone that I started to understand my own feelings. I had just graduated, just quit my job, just moved away, and just left the single life behind.

In almost every way, my life had just changed in exciting, sacramental, and good ways, and yet it was overwhelming.

Where had all this free time suddenly come from? I was used to barely keeping my head above water on a full-time school and part-time job schedule, not to mention clubs and a social life.

Where were all my friends? I was used to living in a townhouse with five other women, going to sorority events, and being surrounded by thousands of people every day at Arizona State University.

What was I doing? I had no job for the first time in four years and no school for the first time in sixteen years.

Now I was finally able to begin to articulate to my husband why I was acting so strange, and that it wasn’t because I was upset we had gotten married! In fact, our marriage was something profoundly beautiful to me, and I loved being a wife to a loving spouse.

I was never diagnosed with depression, but I know that a lot of what I felt was a deep emotional reaction to the immense change that had uprooted my life and ripped away my old “normal.” It was a jolt that sent me, finally, to my knees. “God,” I prayed (more than once), “I give you everything. My marriage, my future, and my life. I can’t do this. I’m too weak.”

After few more rough weeks, I began to slowly emerge from that dark tunnel into a brighter world. I realized that, with God’s guidance and strength, this new chapter was mine to make, almost from scratch.

For hours at a time, I jumped headfirst into a job search and ended up being connected with two wonderful families who needed a nanny and a tutor. I started volunteering at the local pro-life pregnancy resource center and made close friendships with all the other volunteers there. Once a week, I scheduled a phone call with my best friends so we could keep in touch. I explored the local library and checked out books I wanted to read. My husband and I found a new home at the local Catholic parish (where he had been confirmed only a year before!) and committed together to one Adoration hour there a week.

Week by week, I was crying less and less. The depressive states didn’t occur as often, and I felt a new sense of purpose awakening in my heart. My past was gone, but not dead. My family, close friends, and college experiences continued to shape my new life, and I began to see God’s miraculous hand in every new opportunity that presented itself.

It was a hand that had been there even in those darkest first weeks, carrying me.

It took three good months to truly begin to feel like I had my feet underneath me again. That was nine months ago. By God’s patient grace and mercy, I’m thriving. I love being married, and I love my husband.

There are hard days and new challenges constantly thrust upon me, but thus is the Christian life:

"Dear friends, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice inasmuch as you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed."

St. Peter tells us not to be surprised when suffering and persecution come our way. I, mistakenly, did not expect the darkness, as if the devil would not eagerly attack the holy institution of marriage, the foundation of our society. And I felt alone in it.

But we are not alone in our darkness.

Change, even positive change like marriage, knocked me off my feet. I didn’t think it was normal to mourn big changes, even the happy ones.

Just remember to kneel when you are knocked down.

Find a crucifix, the epitome of suffering love, lay it all at His feet, and trust. Talk to your spouse, call a friend, seek therapy if necessary, or walk outside into the sunlight and breathe. And pray. Always pray.

Because the newlywed life is beautiful and the sacramental graces innumerable.

In my twelve short months of marriage, I have already had to learn this, and learned to believe that it is a true reality, not just a pretty phrase. Fifty years from now (God-willing), I still plan on calling upon the bottomless ocean of marital graces we received one day last December to carry us through hard times.

And God wants us, his children, to ask for a lot. To depend wholly on him in childlike trust. He is the Cheerful Giver.

Since I am still a newlywed myself, I am still learning what it means to be a daughter of the King and a wife to my husband. Still learning to let go and let God. To other young brides out there, be not afraid. There is profound joy in your new vocation. And should the darkness come, you are not alone.

You are deeply loved, He has a plan for your life, and there is redemption in our suffering in the shadow of the Cross.

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About the Author: Mariah Maza is Spoken Bride’s Features Editor. She is the co-founder of Joans in the Desert, a blog for bookish military wives. Read more

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Let Something New Pursue Your Heart This Year.

STEPHANIE CALIS

You know the ones. The quotable movie lines, the Top 40 songs, the recent Apple launches you’re vaguely aware of and just nod along with when they come up, never having exactly experienced them yourself. Does this ever happen in your spiritual life, as well--a feeling that one day you should get around to a deeper look at some of the Church’s rich offerings you’ve only ever sort of known about?

As this new year unfolds, this opportunity to encounter the Lord in a new way, I encourage you to dive into a piece of spiritual reading or the life a particular saint, perhaps one you’ve long intended to get acquainted with, and let it lead your heart where it will.

Photography: Zélie Veils

For me, this happened with the writings of John Paul II. Growing up, I loved the idea of love, thanks to a steady diet of Disney magic and romantic comedies. My high school youth minister occasionally mentioned the Theology of the Body and its powerful message, yet I put away the basic catechesis on a mental shelf, not considering it compelling or relevant to my current life.

Fast forward to college, and I realized my younger self’s concept of romance was little more than infatuation when compared to what it could really be. Saint Pope John Paul II introduced me to another view, and I fell in love with love for real.

Along with my boyfriend at the time, I attended a summer retreat in Allenspark, Colorado, where the Pope stayed when he came to Denver for World Youth Day in 1993. On the outside, much about our relationship looked happy and holy. Yet my heart had never experienced deeper unrest, in everything from physical boundaries to problem-solving to the voice I could never quite silence; the one that questioned whether even sacrificial love should feel like a constant weight.

That relationship wasn’t meant to be, but I’m certain the Father’s hand led me to that holy ground in the Rockies. There, I was introduced for the first time to Love and Responsibility, the book on sexual ethics and human dignity that John Paul wrote during his years as a cardinal. The person, he wrote, is meant to be loved, and things are meant to be used, yet so often we get it backwards. His observations on romance, sacrifice, and the ways we stumble in them were like reading a narrative of my relationship.  As I came to see it was built on sand, I grew aware of a hunger, an ache, I hadn’t even realized dwelled in my soul. It was a longing for authentic love, rooted in truth.

Months passed before I had the courage to end that relationship. All the while, though, I just couldn’t--and didn’t--want to put out that fire the Pope had lit in my heart. I started reading all I could about his take on love, sexuality, and chastity. It felt like putting on glasses I hadn’t known I needed. Here were the eternal, ancient truths of the Church, spoken in a language so immediate and insistent, so suited to the current culture and my own life. In my relationship, I’d been hiding so much from myself, my friends, and God. I was ready to become more fully alive; to take off the masks. One of JPII’s personal mottos, duc in altum, calls upon Jesus’ exhortation to “put out into the deep.”

A few years later, recently engaged, I found myself on a Theology of the Body retreat with my coworkers. I was familiar with the Pope’s series of audiences on creation, salvation, and the nuptial intimacy found in each vocation from a college study group, but had never delved deeply in.

For the second time in my life, everything I thought I knew about love fell away, replaced with John Paul’s blazingly beautiful vision of the human person; of love as a complete and unrestrained gift of self. His words were literally life-giving, and awakened in me a desire to live out that self-gift in all of my relationships, most especially in the one I’d have with my husband-to-be: the relationship that would sanctify me and bring me to Christ. I felt remade under this new lens.

Encountering this great saint’s writings and principles painted for me the clearest, most whole, most hopeful vision of who we, as humans, are: beloved daughters and sons; a revelation of the Father’s great love. His words have shown me to myself.

What about you? It’s become apparent in my personal prayer life that certain verses, prayers, and saints have seemingly chosen and pursued me at the times I most needed them. Some of those invitations have been whispers: constant, repeated mentions of a certain prayer, book, or person over months or years. And some have been shouts: instances where intercession and answered prayers ring clear and true. Who are the holy men and women who’ve been knocking at--or, alternatively, crashing through--the door of your heart lately?

Sit in the quiet and observe if any particular saints or writings surface. Consider whether any individuals, devotions, or books have been recommended to you more than once, from more than one person. Or perhaps there’s a particular aspect of the Catholic faith you’ve always wanted to dive into. As a new year unfolds, I sense an expanse of open space in my soul; a decluttered state of thirst. I desire to be filled. Satisfied. May my heart--and yours--find newness, discovery, and a deeper intimacy with Christ in these coming months.

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About the Author: Stephanie Calis is Spoken Bride's Editor in Chief and Co-Founder. She is the author of INVITED: The Ultimate Catholic Wedding Planner (Pauline, 2016). Read more

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Readers Share | Spiritual Resolutions for the New Year

The start of a new year is a natural catalyst to reflect on the days gone by and to prepare for the days ahead with intention. We asked our instagram followers how they and their significant others are committing to begin 2019 with purpose-filled goals and mission.

We are inspired by your honesty and vulnerability as we read your New Year’s Resolutions:

ARTWORK: MICHELLE ARNOLD PAINE

Actually go down on our knees and pray together outside of Mass. - @jessicafaithsayegh

Read Scripture together every day. - @benandkrys

Save every extra cent for our wedding in September! - @aly_basley

Pray more! Pray together, pray for each other, pray individually. Let God be the center. - @atpeaceinchrist

Get married! (10.05.19) - @marykmiller.design

Start praying the rosary daily together. - @laurabwilli

Set a budget together (We’re engaged)! - @evercalmedrose

Pray together more. - @elizabethmsp

Me: Trust God more. Us: Be kinder to ourselves and others. - @jam.dykes

Return to the sacrament of confession once a month, like we used to. - @monicalau0101

From all of us to you, Happy New Year and a blessed Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God. We pray 2019 brings your vocation, wherever you are, abundant fruits and graces.

How to Create, and Live By, a Family Mission + Motto

BRIDGET BUSACKER

My husband David and I recently celebrated our second anniversary. In just over two years, we have experienced the joys and challenges of married life and grown closer together in this shared adventure and vocation. 

A priest friend of ours reminded us that marriage is like two stones hitting each other to create a fine and beautiful sand. We will challenge and sharpen each other in this process. And, God-willing and with His abundant graces, be stronger together as long as we seek to view each other as partners and teammates on the journey to our final destination: heaven.

Photography: Dan Zeller Photography, seen in Bridget + David | Summer Picnic-Style Wedding

When my husband and I were engaged, we discussed a family mission and motto we could live by. This idea was sparked by our intensive desire to be well-prepared for our marriage and to look beyond our wedding day--although we quickly learned we can only do so much planning, reading, and discussing until we have to live out the reality of marriage. It’s when the rubber meets the road that we truly learn what it means to live out our vocation and choose to love in the big and (mostly) little ways of everyday life.

Our family mission and motto has helped us live out the ordinary days of married life and to refocus us when we’ve started to feel overly worked, busy, or the inkling that if we’re not careful, we may turn into ships in the night.

It is not perfect, and sometimes we can forget about our mission. But it’s through recollection, prayer, and redirection that we remember who we are living for and why it’s so important to stay on track.

The Busacker Family Mission

The Busacker Household is a pilgrim family bold in spirit and secure in faith in Christ. We defend and rely upon His universal Church for our daily life in God. As a thousand years is but a day to the Lord, we revere the commands of Saint Peter, humble heir to the keys of God’s Church made divine in the New Covenant.

We strive therefore to be “holy in all [our] conduct since it is written, ‘You shall holy, for I am holy.’” (1 Peter 1:15-16) We strive therefore to be hopeful, and to “be prepared to make a defense to any one who calls [us] to account for the hope that is in us, yet [to] do it with gentleness and reverence.” (1 Peter 3:15)

We strive therefore to be “ungrudgingly” hospitable, for “as [we] have received a gift, [we shall] employ it for one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace.” (1 Peter 4:9,10) We strive therefore to be as humble as Christ and to clothe ourselves “with humility toward one another, for ‘God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble.’” (1 Peter 5:5)

We implore the Sacred Heart of Jesus to grant us holiness, hope, hospitality, and humility in our journey towards Him.

The Busacker Family Motto

Verso l’alto.  

We purposefully picked this motto because of David’s patron saint, Bl. Pier Giorgio Frassati, and his intense witness and love for adventure. Bl. Pier always went above and beyond for Christ, encouraging those around him to aim high.

David and I decided to take this on as our family motto, so that when life is challenging and there are valleys we are experiencing together, we remember that--no matter what--we can offer all for Christ, and can always lift our eyes to aim higher. We want our home to be one that pursues Christ and heaven above all else; to strip away the attachments of this life that keep us from going to the heights in order to hear Him more clearly.

A book that offered insight for us into mission and its importance for family life is Katie Warner’s Head & Heart: Becoming Spiritual Leaders for Your Family. We found it a wonderfully helpful tool to better understand what it means to be spiritual leaders, offering great points of discussion that are tangible and applicable for your marriage.

I encourage you, whether you are newly engaged or married for many years, to consider reframing your marriage with heaven at the forefront, creating a mission you can live by—and look to—amidst the joys and challenges of your vocation.

The most successful companies live by a mission in order to create change, make goals, and succeed, so why not create a mission for your marriage and family life? It is the most important job you will ever have and the most important organization you will ever be a part of on this earth. Our goal is heaven--let’s be sure to encourage our spouse, family members, and other couples to join us on the journey.

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 About the Author: Bridget Busacker is founder of Managing Your Fertility, a one-stop shop for NFP resources serving women & couples. With her husband, she is also co-founder of The Beautiful Wounds, a collection of curated stories devoted to revealing and appreciating beauty in our everyday lives. In her free time, Bridget enjoys adventuring with her husband, fixing up their new home together, and actively participating in their parish life and lay movement, Catholic Advance, through Pro Ecclesia Sancta.

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Creating Advent Traditions in Your New Family

LARABETH MILLER

Advent has always been a season that puzzled me, especially when it came time to create my new little family with my husband. Lent has always been so clear to me because it involves serious contemplation and structure. The challenge with Advent is being able to make time for happy contemplation, while distinguishing the spiritual and material aspects of the season.  

Photography: Leah Muse Photography

When I spent my first Christmas with my husband, I had no idea what kind of traditions I wanted to create. I did want to keep a few from my own family, but I had every chance to build something of my own. I wanted to incorporate details that would leave lasting impressions on my children as they grew up. But I also wanted these details to shape how we interacted with one another and the Church as we developed as a family.

It's been a work in progress, especially with a toddler who doesn’t even know what Advent is, let alone Santa Claus. Last year was the first time went spent Advent and Christmas away from family, so we haven’t had much time to experiment. I wanted to share a few of the thoughts I put into my Advent planning this year.

Personal prayer time

It’s a new liturgical year, which means it is a time for me to approach God’s mercy once again and examine my relationship with him in a deeper way. Primarily, I view Advent as a time for me to consider God’s will for me and to do so with patience, since this is the time of waiting. How does he want to shape my heart this year? What sufferings and challenges can I accept? What new efforts can I make in order to be open to his voice? This is the most important part, not only because it nurtures my soul, but also because I want Christ to make me into a better wife and mother for my family.

A celebration with my spouse

When it comes to my husband, I want to be intentional about creating moments for the both of us, especially since we have already seen how life sweeps us in all directions. I’ve found the easiest way to do this is by putting extra care into our lives during Advent. I incorporate more comfort food into our menu and buy little Christmas decorations to cozy up the house. After our baby goes to bed, I’ll surprise my husband with a batch of cookies and we eat them in front of a movie. It may seem like nothing, but after the general chaos, it really holds so much value. I use these goals to draw myself out of my crazy Christmas plans for everyone else to show my husband he is the most important person at the end of my day.

Together, we are still figuring out Advent as a couple and as a family. For now, we both look forward to each Sunday, where my husband  lights the Advent candles before dinner. Even that simple act makes our prayer more meaningful and draws us both into that time together. Whenever we talk about building on this, we consider the best memories from our childhoods and remember  details that highlighted past seasons.

For him, it was revisiting the family Advent calendar, especially when it yielded chocolate. For me, it was setting up the nativity scene, with the exception of the baby Jesus--who was usually hidden in someone’s sock drawer until Christmas Eve.

Feast days

One of the best things about Advent is its abundance of feast days. Even if you cannot observe each one, they provide ample opportunity for pre-Christmas celebrations. If your family has cultural ties to certain feast days like Our Lady of Guadalupe or St. Lucy, it can make this time extra special. For me, this was usually the time when our parish would come together for a celebration. Depending on your region, many parishes plan events around these feasts. This is a perfect time to be involved in the Church community. For our family, I know it will be worth the effort to experience the special Masses and practice the traditions attached. Our plan is to learn about one feast day each year and to incorporate our favorites as our family grows.

The best advice I can give for this season is start small and simple. These traditions are supposed to hold special meaning for the new family you make with your husband. They are there to provide the comfort of familiarity and togetherness. Most importantly, they are there to point each member’s hearts towards Christ. You don’t have to do everything. Even one small thing means everything if it is rooted in Advent graces.

This is the very thing we want to build on as our family grows; just as the joy and anticipation of Christmas grows with each flame that is added to the Advent wreath.

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About the Author: Larabeth Miller is Spoken Bride’s Associate Editor. She is the owner of Graced by Color. Read more

On Advent and Waiting

ALEXA DONCENCZ SMITH

It’s no secret: Advent is a time of waiting.

Elissa Voss Photography

As a kid, I always looked forward to the week at Mass when the Little Blue Books would appear in the vestibule for Advent, free for the taking. In the weeks that followed, I was diligent in reading the reflections each night before bed, carefully absorbing every saint quote or nugget of spiritual wisdom. I was kind of a nerd, truth be told, but I loved the aura of waiting and preparation that always surrounded the weeks leading to Christmas.

As an adult, waiting can be a bittersweet subject. While anticipation breeds excitement, waiting for the things we desire isn’t always a pleasant feeling--especially if their eventual arrival isn’t guaranteed. Waiting for anything--from a vacation, to a promotion at work, to meeting one’s future spouse--is filled with a vulnerability that can give way to doubt and discontentment.

After spending a bit of time reflecting on Advent, it seems like no coincidence that the Church dedicates a whole season of the liturgical calendar to the meaning and purpose of waiting. Though it may not seem like it, waiting can be a blessing in disguise that can help guide us along the path to Heaven. Here, five ways we can benefit spiritually from this season:

Waiting provides the space for God to work.

Life can get so busy that it becomes easy to get caught up in our own plans, wrapped up in a universe of which we are the center. We have our days scheduled down to the minute and our calendars booked up for weeks, so it can definitely be frustrating when the unexpected comes in and messes with our carefully laid plans.

With our days are booked solid, spent constantly running from one obligation to the next, this doesn’t leave a lot of room for God to work in our lives. We might even find when we’re too busy, our meaningful attempts at prayer fall to the wayside. While God is always present, he often chooses to speak to us in the silence.

And if there’s no silence, or if our lives are just too hectic, we may miss our chance to hear him. Waiting has a way of slowing us down. The resulting pause can produce a helpful reorientation of priorities.

Waiting is an invitation to trust.

When our plans get stalled and things don’t happen how we think they should, it can cause disappointment and even helplessness. This is an opportunity to humble ourselves, remembering God is in control--not us). That there is a greater plan we cannot see; even if we’re confused about how things are going to play out, we know that the one in charge loves us and always wants the best for us.

Waiting forces us to be present.

Frustration with waiting can indicate that our minds or hearts have gotten ahead of us, and we’re trying to live in the future. Two years ago--ironically, during Advent--I was not-so-subtly waiting on a proposal. My fiancé and I had been dating for several years, and we’d had countless talks about moving toward marriage.

We both agreed getting engaged was our next step. But I felt this to the extent that I failed  to appreciate our relationship in the present moment. I had myself convinced nothing more could be accomplished in our relationship or preparation for marriage until we were officially engaged.

Waiting pulls us out of our daydreams about the future (sometimes not so gently), and challenges us to ask, what does God want me to do right now? 

As I  anxiously awaited my proposal, I believed--whether I realized it or not--that engagement was the next thing God wanted me to do in life. But maybe engagement and marriage were a few more bullet points down on the list, and he had other gifts and blessings in store for me first.

I could have easily missed how God was working in my life during that time because I had unconsciously tuned out the present, preoccupied with what I thought should be my next endeavor. Waiting can be a gift that keeps us living in real time.

Waiting is a reminder: our time is precious.

When we’re stuck in line at the grocery store or sitting in traffic, we have two options. We can either grumble and complain, letting our annoying situation get the best of us, or we can remember those very minutes are an irreplaceable gift from God. It might be challenging to view being trapped bumper to bumper on the highway as a gift, but these instances serve as a reminder that all our time is borrowed: it all belongs to God, and we should always use for good the moments of life he has given us.

Waiting gives us hope for a bright future.

When we are so stuck on achieving certain desires that we end up devaluing entire periods of our lives, or we begin to feel as though we are killing time to get to a particular accomplishment or milestone, we are called to remember something: God’s plans are higher than our own. God can give us gifts we never would have dreamed of. And yes: they’re even better than the things we’re pursuing for ourselves.

The feeling of waiting sometimes indicates our timeline doesn’t quite match up to God’s. Rather than giving ourselves over to despair, this is an opportunity to realize that God may be saying no or not yet to our prayers.

Because he might be about to give us something even better than what we imagined.

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About the Author: Alexa is a 2013 graduate of The Catholic University of America, where she earned degrees in biology and psychology. Since 2014, she has served as the Assistant Coordinator for Youth, Young Adult and Family Ministry for the Diocese of Allentown. Alexa and her husband Patrick got engaged in December 2016, and were married in June 2018. Together they’ve enjoyed Cracker Barrel breakfasts, long walks around Barnes & Noble, and deciding which bridal expos had the best cake samples. Alexa's hobbies include writing, photography, and drinking coffee. 

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Newlywed Life | How to Plan a Honeymoon Staycation

Are you and your beloved unable to go on a honeymoon immediately after your wedding?

Whether due to work, financial, or other limitations, if a getaway isn’t in the cards for you right away, the first days of your marriage can still be an elevated experience and sacred time. Consider planning a honeymoon staycation over a three-day weekend or, if possible, a longer period off from work. Here, our suggestions for making your staycation distinctive from the everyday.

Photography: Amy and Kyle Catholic Photography seen in How He Asked | Jenna + Paul

Allow yourselves leisure.

When you’re staying at home, particularly right after your marriage, there are temptations everywhere to do: open gifts, organize belongings, clean, write thank you notes. Don’t forget, however, to be: this is a vacation, after all! Consider designating a time of day to end working on projects and chores, spending the remainder in a state of carefree timelessness.

Make specific plans.

A staycation is ideal for exploring areas of your city you might not otherwise prioritize: plan a day trip, make brunch and dinner reservations at new and special spot, visit the natural or cultural sites you love or have dreamed of seeing. Creating an informal itinerary cultivates the getaway feel and brings structure to your time.

Consider a local overnight.

If your budget allows, spending a night--or two--in a nearby hotel or Airbnb feels distinctively special and set apart from your everyday.

Dream together.

If your “actual” honeymoon is months away, enjoy the anticipation! Page through travel books for your destination, dive into Yelp, and begin planning your forthcoming trip.

Add a spiritual component.

Take advantage of time off from work with daily Mass, Adoration, and a self-planned retreat or pilgrimage. Find more here on planning a spiritually significant honeymoon.

We love hearing the stories, insights, and surprises of your newlywed lives. If you and your beloved had an abbreviated or local honeymoon, or are planning to, share your own tips and experiences in the comments and on our social media. See the Spoken Bride team’s handpicked honeymoon essentials here.