So how’s married life?
It takes time to figure the difference, the difference between the answer I sputter to you and the one my soul tells me in the small in-between moments of my ordinary life.
Crazy busy! is what I’ll tell you in small talk. We got married and left the next day for Idaho. We drove back for family vacation up North, came back and house-sat for my aunt, trekked down to Iowa for another reception before making our way up to downtown Minneapolis where we’ve been for the last month.
I got a job as a middle school pastor. She got a job as a server. Literally walks to work.
So yeah. How’s your summer?
Here’s the answer that comes in the small in-between moments, the kinds of moments I have the time to scribble it in a notebook:
For some reason, the phrase “giving up the ghost” jangles around my brain. Odd, because our married life thus feels less giving up the ghost and more giving into it.
By ghost, I guess I mean the mystery. To understand everything-- future, theology, intimacy, etc.-- is madness, like trying to make a bridge across an infinite sea. To accept everything-- receive your life in all its frays and loose ends-- is a gift of pure grace, like finding a boat that weathers the infinite sea while putting a whistle in your jaw.
We’re giving into the ghost, the specter looming around what we don’t know. Fear paints him darkly, but I don’t know it’s a dude, or even scary for that matter. Maybe ghost is Casper in disguise, that secret strength that helps me throw my hands up in the air, chuckle, and actually admit that I don’t know how much I wish I did.
Either way, we don’t surrender our hope for Good News. We just wait earnestly for it. Try, even, to be Good News to those immediate to us.