This morning I’m sitting at my favorite coffee shop in Springfield, MO. I’ve watched this place transform as it got new owners and a new name, received a complete decorating do-over, and now this place has become a classy home of business meetings and Bible talk.
Today I’m here to tryyyy to knock out a paper. School has become nearly impossible with this whole *wedding* approaching. {Case in point: the fact I’m blogging instead of writing}
I decided to caffeinate to motivate myself to write my theology of hope and suffering. <– yeah, I don’t really know what that means either.
I’ve been on countless dates with Clayton here and it’s my hang out place with Robert. I do work and I play here. And I blog here A LOT. When I think of Springfield, I think of Hebrews.

Planning the C&C wedding has launched a full out sprint into the depths of sappyness. My mom leads the pack.
We’ve been going through old pictures and converting home videos to DVD. Now, the memories of us jumping on the bed and blowing out 3 birthday cakes for every birthday (my mom was the cutest) can make us feel all warm inside all. the. time.
While digging through pictures my mom found this gem taken at the gym.
My sister played competitive basketball, and my little bro James and I were dragged along to “support.” I have fond memories of hanging out in high school gyms across the state, but I think this picture is a dose of the 1990′s reality.
James mastered the wall-nap (which I hope he doesn’t utilize in class) and I was a concession stand junkie. I think James and I deserve some of the credit for my sister’s basketball skills.
My mom thinks it was child abuse.
Regardless, pictures tell awesome stories.
{Marriage 101 Guest Post by Stephanie}
Have you ever wanted to be a fly on the wall in someone else’s house?
I’m going to invite you to do just that. You are a fly on the wall of my kitchen, four years ago.
I am at the stove, stirring something in a pot. My toddler runs in and attaches himself to my leg. I look down, and tell him to go play in the other room. He doesn’t budge. He is much more interested in what Mommy is doing on the hot stove.
My body begins to get tense. I yell to another room.
“I need your help, honey.” No answer, so I raise my voice higher.
“What are you doing? I need your help in here.” Still no answer. So I shout his name. He comes into the room.
“Where were you?”
He looks surprised, “Downstairs, paying a bill.”
I roll my eyes. My voice becomes terse. “Well, I’m in here, trying to make dinner. I need you to entertain him.”
I shake the toddler off my leg in his direction. My husband glares at me. “Fine.”
He leaves the room with our son. I start flinging vegetables into the pot, taking out my frustration on a pasta sauce.
How did this happen?
My husband and I had good days. We were both genuinely happy to see each other after work. So why, within one hour of being home, did we end up in an argument?
I have been married almost twelve years. The fight you saw as a little fly is not an isolated occurrence. These are the little conflicts of everyday marriage. Slowly, as my husband and I have lived these arguments, we have grown to understand them- and have less of them.
Often, unspoken, unmet expectations.
In the above example, I got home and expected to be able to make dinner right away. I figured that when my husband got home, he would jump in and help with our son. When my husband got home, he expected to be able to work on the bills.
I expected to cook. He expected to pay bills. Both of these are important jobs. Neither of us were neglecting the needs of our household. But, with a toddler in the picture, we could not both do these things at the same time.
One of us had to change our expectations. Perhaps I could have started cooking after he was done with the bills. Or perhaps he could have waited with the bills until I was done cooking. Neither solution was a big deal.
When our unspoken expectations were not met, both of us felt like the other person was letting us down.
So, we have developed a new habit. A pre-emptive strike against unnecessary fights.
Most nights, when my husband gets home from work, I ask what he hopes to accomplish that night. Then I tell him what I would like to do. After that, if needed, we sit at the negotiating table. Is one of the things associated with a deadline? Is one of them less urgent? Is one of them more important for the health of our family?
These conversations are even better more in advance. Like when we talk on the weekend about things we want to do the coming week.
It doesn’t matter when the conversations happen; the point is to make them happen.
We change the expectations we have formed in our head to adjust with the reality facing us in our home.
These discussions come naturally to us with the large decisions of life. But with these little things? The things that cause arguments in the kitchen during dinner preparations? Those we had to learn to talk about.
This has become the advice I give to engaged and newly married couples: practice the discipline of intentional discussion about expectations. Little or big, silly or strategic, let your partner know what you are hoping to do that night, that week, or even that year.
Get on the same page and save yourselves from angry pasta sauce stirring.

About Stephanie Spenser:
I have been married to the love of my life for almost twelve years. We are blessed to be a genuinely happily married couple, something that seems a rarity these days. I am a mom trying to enjoy these long and wonderful days of toddlerhood with two boys. I am also a Christ-follower, passionate about life with God being about more than just going to church. You can find me on my blog http://everydayawe.com/ or Twitter https://twitter.com/everydayawe
Last week in class we talked about how sometimes the toughest times in life aren’t always the worst circumstances. When something tragic happens people gather around us with support, we throw up our hands in a public surrender that invites sympathy, and we run to the Lord for strength because He’s all we have.

But, sometimes hard times can be when there is one small disruption after another. We brush off pain and annoyances with “it’s not a big deal” or “they don’t get to me” or “I can fit this in my schedule.”
In my case today, a cracked computer screen brought me to tears that lasted longer than I want to admit. I crumbled, and I thought of this:
In Luke, Jesus says…
Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift all of you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.
When I’ve read this verse in the past, I’ve always thought of sifting being like Job’s loss– a hero who lost everything and still chose God. I envisioned sifting as tragedy, death, and sickness. After talking about what sifting can look like in class, I realized sifting doesn’t always look like visible tragedy.
Normally, a cracked computer screen wouldn’t bother me because my computer guru fiance can fix it. But, it was the car going into the shop, the headache, running late, feeling unnoticed, & **wedding plans** that all built up to the “final little thing.”
It’s these frustrations that purify us and show us our character– whether we want to see it or not. It’s the small things– the ordinary disturbances– that can sift us to the core.
I don’t want sifting to send me drifting.
{Marriage 101 Guest Post by Alicia}
My name is Alicia Kelley, and in July I will have been married to my husband, Terry Kelley, for ten years! We have four awesome kids that keep me exhausted and happy and living in a messy home most of the time. Terry is the worship pastor at Rockford First in Rockford, IL, and I am currently raising my kids, teaching fitness classes, and dabbling in a million other things…someday I will teach English again, which is how I met the lovely Caroline in the first place.
I can still remember one afternoon during my senior year of high school when my softball coach was having the ever popular what-are-you-going-to-major-in-during-college conversation with me. I had so many ideas that I had no idea, and I told him that.
“Why don’t you get your teaching certification as something to fall back on?” He said to me. “They always need teachers. So you’ll always be able to find a job.”
Well, at the time I didn’t really want to teach, but that seemed like pretty sound advice. I’m a sucker for a safety net. If I got my teaching certification, I’d have a built-in exit strategy from a job I might not like.
It is smart in almost every situation to have a backup plan, a safety net, an exit strategy. But in this covenant that we take on with another person “till death do us part,” we are much more successful if we never even consider a backup plan.
I’m not just talking about the D word, here, although that is the ultimate exit strategy. Have you ever noticed how many ways you can temporarily exit a relationship? Sure, you’re still married, but you have exited in a way that makes it impossible for your marriage to thrive. Maybe you are giving the silent treatment. Maybe you withhold something your spouse would like, be it time, affection, or kindness. Maybe, after a really awful fight, you hop in the car and decide to stay at a friend’s house for the night. Maybe you just emotionally check out of the relationship in order to protect yourself from getting hurt further.
Some of these seem normal and harmless, others a little more serious. But all of them are ways that people temporarily exit relationships. The danger, here, is that each exit brings the relationship closer to a possible permanent exit strategy. I believe that God created marriage because it can bring such happiness. It can be comforting having someone to co-navigate life with you. While healthy arguing is a normal part of marriage,
If you and your spouse agree upon this important characteristic about your marriage, you each are then “free” to do everything you can and should to make it work. What does that mean, exactly? Here are some places to start:
Don’t fall asleep fighting, don’t roll away from each other and sleep facing different directions because of your anger, don’t lie there and wait for your spouse to “fix” it, don’t sleep in separate quarters. Ephesians 4:26 tells us, “Do not let the sun go down on your wrath.” If there is a problem as you are falling asleep, get up, get your spouse up, and talk through it. Yes, it’s work. Yes—it’s worth it.
It’s an exit strategy to only do things when you feel like it. You won’t always feel like it, so this is where that commitment comes in. Do it anyway. 1 Corinthians 16:14: Let all that you do be done with love. 1 Corinthians 13:5: “Love is not self-seeking.” This pretty much means that it’s not about me. It’s about my spouse and my marriage.
1 Corinthians 13:5: “Love keeps no record of wrongs.” Marriage is not a competition. Everything does not have to be equal, no matter how much society may tell us this. If your spouse has “caused” the last three arguments in a row, who cares? And why do you even know that? J Keep no record of wrongs. Forget the past.
1 Corinthians 13:5—“Love does not dishonor others.” Your bond in marriage is stronger than any other human bond that you have. Honor that by preserving it. Build each other up. Once you allow negative words about your spouse to flow from your mouth, it will be much harder to do the opposite, and that is a quick road to an exit strategy.
The bottom line is that you are GOING to have arguments in marriage. That’s okay. But God’s vision of love is one where we are “not easily angered” (! Corinthians 13:5). Some of us tend to fly off the handle pretty quickly. However, because anger can raise some pretty strong walls of resentment, bitterness, and other emotional exit strategies, it is imperative to be slow to anger.
If you’re anything like me, reading God’s definition of love in 1 Corinthians is super intimidating. How can I ever live up to that description of love? Well, I can’t—by myself.
PRAY for your marriage every single day, especially for your part in that marriage.