One year of marriage is a paper anniversary, and I was thinking about what that meant as we drove back from Idaho Falls while eating Jack in the Box. At a year of marriage, we don’t have a whole lot. Our apartment has cinderblock walls and the kind of carpet you would find in a dentist’s office. I get frustrated sometimes because I want more, but then I realize that we’re at the very beginning of something great. When you’re building a house, you don’t start by pouring cement and laying down brick. You put it on paper first. That’s what we have now. We have paper plans and paper dreams. Someday, we will have more, but for now, all we have is paper. And that’s okay.
“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of – throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.” – C.S. Lewis
Imagine your marriage as a living house… We thought we were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.