And Then We Hung the Chandelier
Every spring we put together our outdoor, screen porch, but this year we did it twice. The fire in our backyard that destroyed our fence and several shurbs also burned little holes in the roof of our porch. So over the weekend we took off the old top and replaced it with a new one. We also decided to shift some of the screens with fire holes to the back wall against the fence. Simple, right?
We thought so. We undid and redid lots of plastic hooks and rehung screens, but when we stood back to look at them we realized they were just a smidge off. Turns out our porch is not an exact square.
ME: “Something’s wrong here. These screens just don’t line up. I think we did this wrong.”
JOHN: “Yep. I think you’re right. Let’s take them down and try again.”
At that moment, my shoulder hurt a bit, and I thought of a lot of other things I wanted to do on this beautiful weekend day. I almost said, “It’s okay. We can live with it.” Then I realized that if we did that, we would see that error every time we sat on the porch, and our irritation would grow.
Isn’t that also a picture of marriage? Sometimes it seems the easiest thing to do is just ignore those little missteps and “live with it.” By “it” I mean a communication pattern that involves shouting, silence, assumptions, or even threats. Or bad habits such as not saying please and thank you—taking each other for granted. Or letting other people or hobbies or vocations step into the #1 attention-getting spot. It takes great courage for someone in a marriage to say, “Look, I see us making a mistake.” And it takes great grace for a partner to say, “You’re right. Let’s address this.”
After we took the screens down again and readjusted them, they looked so much better–the way that were intended to look. Then came the moment I had been waiting for since May: we hung our outdoor chandelier.
I’m glad now that we didn’t just try to cover up the old, fire-burned roof or live with the oddly-placed screens.
We talked it through, leaned on each other’s strengths, admitted our weaknesses, and ended up in a happy chandelier-hanging place.
And one evening soon we will pull out mom’s old CD player and put on Frank Sinatra–just right for celebrating twenty-nine years of building a life together. Grateful!
P.S. Don’t forget—I still have FriendChips 2017 calendars to give away. Just send me a line or two here in the comment line about your Storm Sister (for use in my August 7th blog). I’ll mail you both a calendar. 
