A moment of full disclosure: I’ve been staring at my computer for a good 30 minutes. A few minutes ago I got up, walked in the kitchen, ate a brownie, furrowed my brow, and came back. I stared some more. Then I got up, grabbed my pitching wedge, and walked around the block. I like to think when I walk or run and usually at least relatively decent ideas come to me. Nothing. Just blank. Then I started thinking bigger.
I have no idea what this blog will look like a year from now, five years from now. Heck, half the time I don’t know what this blog is going to look like tomorrow. I do know this though: moments of exasperation make you start asking questions. Instead of grasping for random post ideas like a child grasps at a bucket of straws, I started a conversation in my head, “why do we even write this blog?” “does it even matter?” “should we go in a different direction?” and on and on.
It’s funny to me that some of our most elegant ideas and liberating redefinition are born out of exasperation. We have nothing, thus we must change everything to make something better.
The same is true of marriage.
My dad used to tell me “Kyle, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” He was either talking about my dating life or my baseball career, I don’t remember which, but that quote stuck with me.
When Jen and I fight about the same things over and over again, out of sheer desperation we must change the way we interact, the way we treat each other. When we’re “going good” nothing shifts. If it ain’t broke…
Therefore those moments of tension are not ones we necessarily look forward to, but they are catalysts for change, predecessors of a better future together, and for that I am thankful. So even as we despise it, we must lean into our arguments and rather than letting them define us, we must use them to become more like Christ.
Now if only I could figure out this blogging thing…..