Scrambling for a "C"

For most of my life, I’ve been as competitive as I have been talkative, and that’s saying something. While my drive isn’t always applied to financial or professional pursuits, there is usually always something that I am deeply passionate about on a short-term or long-term basis. And when I do something, I want to be the best at it or not bother at all.

It’s not exactly a healthy character trait, and my husband would be the first to tell you that I am usually stressed because I involuntarily look for stress all the time. When one project is done, I start sniffing for another. When I am in the middle of something - be it a church project, a writing project, chasing college grades, or even just inventing a game - I can get oddly intense in my quest to get it done as perfectly as I want.

A is for Asian, people joke, but I definitely refuse to accept getting any lower of a grade than an A whenever I choose to pour my heart and soul into something.

And, quite honestly, it’s why reckoning with this new season of motherhood has been a new lesson in humility in a way I never expected.

Some people say you can have it all: career, motherhood, an outstanding marriage, great health, an active social life, financial success, ministerial involvement. Some others acknowledge that you just can’t.

I already thought I was realistic. I’d long accepted that I could at most work part time if and when God gave us children. I knew I needed (and have) lowered standards for how I look or how our house looks or how much time I can spend pursuing my former hobbies like writing, traveling, and painting, and cooking.

What I didn’t expect was to already make multiple sacrifices - and still can’t manage to ace anything.

The twins are wonderful blessings I love with all of my heart - but they frankly don’t get as much organic food, exercise, fashionable outfits, music lessons, bedtime stories, sleep training, screen time limits, educational play, bath time scrubbing, clean sheets, hairstyling, baby massages, fresh air, fresh fruits, and whatnot as they could.

For the first time since marriage, our beddings don’t match and our room is a mess. After cooking regularly for years, I have at most put together five meals since the babies were born.

My memos get sent out the moment they’re written. My conversations with my husband sound more like reports than actual dialogue.

When it comes to work, ministries, and the luxury of a hobby or two, I can at most scramble to do “just enough” to get the minimum done.

Forget getting an A. It takes all the effort I can possibly muster to just get a C, in pretty much everything.

And it frustrates me to no end.

I feel like a mediocre mother, a mediocre teacher, a mediocre wife, and a mediocre everything all at the same time. And with all my days and nights running together, I often feel that there is absolutely no way things can get any better. I want

to do more, and I want to do better.

But it just doesn’t happen.

And it has taken me a while to accept that maybe THAT is what I have to learn and accept.

Somehow, through the years, perhaps due to having the luxury of time and financial versatility, I’ve come to set for myself an earthly standard of what makes me a worthwhile person living a worthwhile life. I‘ve been priding myself in reaching supposed standards that are more about me than they are about God.

And, obviously, I was wrong.

There are times when we are called to sacrifice certain things in our life. When we are called, we must obey.

But I am slowly learning, day by day, that the something I’m being called to give up may well be my self-inflated view of myself and my idea of a “perfect life.”

As with any idol, the idol of perceived earthly perfection causes sorrow and strife. A Christian cannot experience a meaningful, abundant life when she is hyper-focused on chasing A’s of her own invention. No one ever said that the world will affirm the good and faithful servant. The Lord sets the standards for what He demands of me, and I do not glorify Him when I demand that I must somehow be more than what He is asking of me.

What I do need to do is to discern what my Lord wants me to do in this particular time, do it with all my heart, and be content with whatever that may be.

And if straight C’s are what it’s going to be, then it needs to be enough for me.

Blessed Be the Name of the Lord

It's been a year. It's been 365 days since we were told by our somber-faced doctor that the twins in my womb were decidedly, irretrievably gone. We knew about the pregnancy at the 3-week mark. We learned that we were expecting identical twins at the 6-week mark. Then, at seven weeks, our short-lived parenthood came to an end.

It wasn't a simple matter. The products of conception would stay stubbornly in my body, anchored to my system with ironic security, for another two months before we proceeded with a D&C. I suffered morning sickness, including all the sores and vomiting, without ever meeting our children. The journey before and after those three hopeful weeks ran the length of almost an entire year.

It took me time to open up about it. We tried to grieve privately, telling only our immediate family, closest friends, or people whom we knew had similar experiences. We were aware that there were people who would care and offer genuine, godly comfort in the face of our sorrow. But I also knew there would be way too many people who would react (intentionally or misguidedly) in unhelpful ways.

I saw my friends who'd had miscarriages before bombarded with judgment or demands: "Maybe it was something you did or something you ate." "Maybe you didn't rest." "You were too stressed." "You didn't do this." "You should have done that." "You should have known better."

Pregnancy loss is a keen, life-changing sorrow - and all these empty words just sound like "It was your fault. You killed your baby." to couples who are already grieving.

The length to which expecting couples, especially mothers, go for the benefit of their unborn children is immeasurable. It's heartbreaking that their sacrifices and adjustments could be so flippantly discussed just because the Lord has chosen to give and then take away.

So I kept quiet.

I chose not to tell people because I was so afraid of the inevitable condemnation that I would rather sacrifice the potential solace.

Thank God that His grace is always sufficient.

During one session of our shared devotional time late last year, the book Tim and I were using asked us to discuss what the darkest time of our married life was.

To our surprise, we realized that the loss of our twins - our detour into the valley of the shadow of death - was the time when the goodness, faithfulness, and sovereignty of the Lord shone the brightest in our lives.

Sometimes, it takes darkness for us to appreciate the light even more.

Three months after the miscarriage, an older sister in Christ pulled me aside after church. This was a mother of one of our close friends. I figured she might have heard of what had happened to us.

I braced myself for the queries and judgment - for the abundant unsolicited advice so inevitable in our tight-knit Filipino-Chinese community.

What I didn't expect was for her to hug me and whisper, "Wen, I admire you so much. To know what you guys have gone through and to still see you and Tim loving and serving the Lord so faithfully. I appreciate it so, so much. Praise the Lord for your faithfulness."

I cried.

Even now, as I write about the memory, I cry.

We don't know what the next chapter of God's story for us will be. We have our hopes and our wishes - but, most of all, we seek for His will.

And I pray, I pray so hard, that no matter what He chooses to give or to take away in His omnipotence and grace - that we would be able to show with our lives that, indeed, blessed be the name of the Lord.

The Friendship Agreement

From the very first moment that we got married, we learned to share our friends.

In Christian life, the merging of two people as one in the eyes of God is something very, very profound and, sometimes, unfathomable. When God leads two people to marry, He's asking them to combine everything they know, have, and are to make a new unit. It's about not keeping secrets. It's about sharing everything in your heart and home. It's about merging families and about creating something new from two old things.

And that new thing includes the wonderful, dangerous thing called friendship.

In today's world where both men and women live single lives that have family gatherings, educational adventures, personal hobbies, and social practices even before they meet their future spouse, the merging of two people into a new social unit can be a more extensive process than one expects. Every time a couple gets together, gets engaged, or gets married, there are multiple social adjustments on their way.

Family members need to be introduced. Past stories need to be recounted. Daily tasks need to be discussed, and future plans need to be shared.

And one of those crucial areas of adjustment - is friendship, particularly with friends of the opposite gender.

My husband grew up with two sisters and numerous female cousins. While his close friends growing up were mostly boys, there have always been female friends for him in church, in school, and in other areas of life. I grew up with two brothers. That ratio in our home has made me enjoy hobbies and intellectual discussions with guy friends all my life. No matter my stage in life, I almost always had as many male friends as female friends.

That background meant that we needed to learn to share our friends, extensively.

In our marriage, we've agreed to never maintain opposite-sex friendship for any individual. In other words, I will not maintain close friendships with my guy friends (or make new guy friends) without including my husband. My husband will not maintain close friendships with his female friends (or make new female friends) without including me.

It makes for an interesting mix.

Because we aim for that particular sort of marriage, we end up having three kinds of cherished friends in the long run:

1. Couple friends - where the boy and girl are friends with both of us.
2. Single friends - individual guys and gals who are close to both of us.
3. Same gender friends - female friends I keep in touch with, or guy friends my husband keeps in touch with, often without the other spouse involved.

That list, of course, is more of a generalization. There are also cousin friends and work friends. There are social media friends and strangers-turned-friends we meet in the most random gatherings and places. There are many different sources and kinds of friends.

But, still, anyone that grows to be a long-term personal friend belongs in one of the three categories.

These things don't happen overnight.

Just because we both agree we only want to maintain those three sorts of close friendships doesn't mean we automatically have them.

In order to grow socially from two individuals to one, we had to make a few adjustments.

1. Share friends. The first thing, and often the happiest and simplest thing, is to introduce existing friends to each other. Whenever I meet a college friend, I might contact the girls on my own but always involve my husband when we meet the guys. When we visit my husband's hometown, he introduces me to all of his friends (male and female) and goes out with any of them only when I accompany him. Existing friends of one spouse can become new friends of both spouses - and it's a wonderful thing to share life that way

2. Find friends. Sometimes, it's not so easy to share existing friends. Maybe there's a distance thing. Maybe there's bad blood. Maybe there's the simple fact that spouses and friends may speak different languages, come from different cultures, or enjoy different things. Maybe there's no time or chance to meet up. Sometimes, in the most serendipitous ways, God leads us to new people who will befriend both of us in unique ways. I never advocate "replacing" friends by ignoring past friends and intentionally finding new ones. I do advocate being open to God's leading - and to the people He may place in our lives in a new chapter. 

3. Choose friends. Now, this is the most controversial of our choices. We believe - unanimously - that if any of our friends simply refuse to include our spouse in the friendship, then we must prioritize our spouse. Refusal, of course, can come in different forms. Just because a female friend, whom we share, has more common topics with my husband isn't wrong. Just because a guy friend of ours alternates talking to me, to my husband, and to both of us isn't bad. Refusal is involved when a friend bad-mouths or belittles our spouse. Refusal is involved when a guy just wants to be friends with me, without my husband; or, vice versa, when a girl just wants to be friends with him, without me. Any friend who insists on that - is offering a friendship we're afraid we can't maintain.

It's all nice theoretically, but we often have to take some physical steps before we can achieve what we both believe in.

When we communicate with any opposite-gender friends, we talk about it with our spouse. When we talk extensively with any opposite-gender friends - online or in person - we try our best to include our spouse in the conversation (which means we have lots and lots of three-persons or four-persons Viber groups, even if only two people are doing the actual talking). We know each other's account passwords for e-mail, social media, gadgets, etc., if not share our accounts altogether.

We never promise to keep secrets from each other - and tell anyone who confides in us that our spouse will know all. We never plan, and wholeheartedly avoid, isolated time with friends of the opposite sex, from sharing a car to grabbing coffee to grabbing lunch. We never spend more than a week or a few days apart, whether it's for work, for family, or for ministry. We want our social choices to reflect the fact that we are one, not two.

All couples who adhere to the same principles have their own ways of making sure they are never socially isolated with people of the opposite sex. Many of our pastors share e-mails as husband and wife. My father will include his driver in a meal when he's accompanied by a female colleague. My husband's family encourages wives to accompany their husbands on business trips. Some of our friends will always bring their spouse to any social activity. Some other friends share all their mail and e-mail and financial transactions.

How we strive for the same goals can vary. The means is not absolute.

What is absolute is the goal of safeguarding and protecting our marriage - of making sure that we never jeopardize it by allowing any friend to become more important to us than our spouse is. What is absolute is the need to treasure our marriage - and to never allow anything, even something as great as friendship, to have the chance of getting in the way.

The Thing with Traveling

When Tim and I started dating six years ago, we made a mutual agreement that we wouldn't take any out-of-town, overnight trips on our own until we got married. Anytime we were anywhere beyond an hour or two of our then-homes, we were with friends or with family - all of whom were very Christian, very vigilant chaperones. The rule made traveling awkward. Of course it did. (my dad kept a very keen eye on us and our photographer when my family accompanied us to our engagement photoshoot in Davao.) But, ultimately, we are thankful that we made that decision and fought to keep it.

When Tim and I discussed the decision to steer away from unchaperoned traveling when we were still unmarried, there were two words that struck us strongly in forming our convictions: "Testimony" and "Temptation."

Should unmarried couples have physical relationships before marriage? No. Can well-meaning, committed, Christian couples travel by themselves and not commit immorality? Yes, they can. There is no inherent sin involved in the act of seeing the world as a dating couple. I know couples who made sure to stay in separate rooms when traveling (in some cases, separates beds - so they say). I know couples who visit family together and choose to undergo the entire visit with only the highest standards of chastity. I know couples who did travel together and didn't participate in premarital sex.

That said, it wasn't a choice we believed wise for us.

The first reason behind our decision was testimony - a word that sounds so simple but requires a lifestyle that is actually profound.

Technically, a couple can share a house, a room, a car, or just any personal space by themselves without falling into sin. No one can be certain, no matter how much they'd like to say so, that anything untoward is happening between unaccompanied couples. There is, however, an undeniable possibility that unchaperoned traveling becomes interpreted to be a time unmarried couples engage in improper physical relationships. We wanted to avoid that chance to even be misinterpreted this way, and I am glad we chose what we did.

The second reason behind our decision to avoid traveling unchaperoned when we were dating was, in all frankness, temptation.

The charged emotions involved in a dating - and particularly engaged - relationship can make even the most sensible people talk themselves into nonsensical choices. The intimacy created by the lack of an audience can fuel those emotions to even crazier heights. Ever heard people say they were crazy about each other? That statement itself should be a clue into the unmanageable feelings that come into play when two people fall in love.

We, as a couple, decided that we didn't want to place ourselves in situations where that kind of emotion runs free. In order for us to save ourselves for marriage the way God wanted us to, we needed to take steps towards making that goal achievable.

After Tim and I started dating, our courtship proceeded quickly. The support of our families and both of our knowledge that this was a relationship rolling towards marriage led us to marry about ten months after becoming "official." The wedding planning went by in a stressful whirlwind. Before we knew it, we were on our honeymoon in a cruise to Mexico and Belize. The first time we stepped foot together on foreign shore was a shared adventure of love, joy, hope, and discovery.

We still travel these days. We often make short trips to neighboring countries and the occasional longer trip to farther parts of the world. When we travel, we share our love of eating new foods and learning new languages, of seeing historic sites and meeting interesting people, of broadening our horizons and bringing home our load of souvenirs. I love traveling, and getting to see the world with the man I love most in this world is a joy I will never trade away.

How wonderful it is to share our hearts and lives and itineraries! The thrill of our daytime visits only enhance the warmth of our nighttime snuggles. When we see new things and places, everything we learn and enjoy becomes an immovable part of us - of the life we've created together.

We didn't choose to see the world as a dating couple because we get to explore the universe as a married couple - frankly a much better thing, in my opinion. The reasons we avoided solitary traveling then still stand for us today. We still try, day after day, to avoid choices that jeopardize our testimony or provide undue temptation. The rewards are beautiful beyond compare. And, frankly, things are much, much happier this way.

To Fail at Failing

I've made no secret of our struggles with infertility. We've wanted kids from day one, been proactively adjusting our lifestyles to make room for children. We've gone through phases of quiet waiting, waiting for the Lord to intervene naturally. We've also gone through phases when the Lord leads us to try doctors, medications, procedures, and tests that poke holes in us and cause mood swings and make the journey feel even longer.

Suffice it to say that so far, neither phases have actually brought us any children.

And you know what? Sometimes, that problem looms larger than it has to because we've just never been conditioned to face failure.

The statistics tell us what to expect. Seventy-five percent of Millenials will marry, and eighty-five percent of couples will conceive after one year of trying. The majority of Filipino marriages withstand divorce, and over half a million people in our country successfully finish college every year.

But we never expect to end up in the minority.

And to be honest? The minority isn't exactly fun.

Valentine's Day sucks when your singleness is shoved in your face. Mother's Day is the worst day of the entire year when you, still, somehow, remain childless. Seeing people celebrate their 20th, 30th, or 50th anniversary can come with a bitter sting for those in broken marriages.

Time and again, people tell me to go to certain doctors who are "so good and have made hundreds of people pregnant." What they don't know is that I've already gone to those doctors. I've been there, done that - and come home teary-eyed and empty-handed. People like me don't tell you success stories because we have don't have them.

And, also, because no one wants to hear failure stories.

No one celebrates the matchmaking session that ended with awkwardly ruined friendships. No one tells you stories of the times they've gone through intrusive procedures and ruthless rounds of medication just to chase that elusive next child. No one tells you what to do when your child's health is confirmed to have worsened rather than improved, despite your every effort to nurture him.

As Christians, when we give ourselves unequal expectations, then we're sometimes not ready to brave the disappointments that inevitably come with this life.

There are 25% of Millenials who will never get married. There are 15% of couples who will not conceive after one year of trying. There are 50% of Asian marriages that will end up in some form of estrangement or divorce. There are millions of people who face the daily reality of health struggles, widowhood, secondary infertility, or inability to finish school.

Only when the Lord is our Rock, our Strength, our Everything - can we be ready to weather those off-chances.

As Christians, we're not supposed to be poster children for earthly success. We're supposed to shine God's light and spread His salt by persevering despite earthly imperfections. Yes, the church can celebrate and give thanks for triumphs, but we can't neglect the realities of stumbles as well.

A truly strong Christian testimony should result in joy in all circumstances. A person dealing with his or her valley of the shadow of death should be able to walk up to other people in church and find true Christian encouragement rather than pity or disdain. We as Christians shouldn't be praying for a smooth-sailing life. We pray for a life of walking with God.

Having that walk is what strengthens us for real life. Having that walk is what guarantees a "successful" life - defined the right way.

Screen Curfew

I really, really hated the idea when Tim first suggested it. Anyone who knows us well enough know that we live in a 4-gadget-per-capita household (not even including the ones for work). We live online and on screen. Every spare moment is spent using a gadget of some sort, and we even wear some of ours. We talk to each other on Viber for more hours each day than we do in person. We both had to get corrective eye surgery at some point. We save all our information on multiple cloud programs. We never sell an electronic gadget without getting another one in its place.

You get the picture.

The above lifestyle is why the idea of a screen curfew - a set time when we would stop using gadgets before going to bed - sounded utterly ludicrous to me.

Why would we do that (because that's what my version of a supportive wife says)? I don't think it'll really help us sleep. Why an ENTIRE HOUR before we sleep?

It was a whole different story when we tried it.

Stopping our screen exposure for a set time before bed has lessened our entertainment options by a lot, but it's also helped us in so many other ways.

My reading habits have been restored to the classic and Christian over transient online updates. I don't go to bed with my head full of covetousness over everyone else's social media accounts. We actually talk to each other so much more in person instead of just sending each other web links of every kind. I've started journaling again, and our hearts are much more prepared for our bed-time prayers than they used to be.

I don't think we'll ever be permanently unplugged, and I don't particularly advocate that kind of lifestyle either. We live in a digital world, and we function well by reaching out to others and growing ourselves through platforms that are available online. But, that said, it's not a bad idea to take a break on a regular basis. It's a quiet time of sorts, a chance to rest and refocus.

While I still shout "No! Already?" almost every time our screen curfew hits, I've actually started to enjoy those parts of the evening better and better. Stopping screen use has become something beyond the physical. It's become a choice to detach ourselves from visual stimulation and to calm down our senses inside and out.

I don't know how long we'll manage to keep up this lifestyle, but I'd like to think we'll be enjoying these habits for quite a while to come.

Happy Wife, Happy Life?

I'm a wife, and I'm happy - most of the time.

According to the age-old adage, that means my husband should be happy- most of the time. Right?

Maybe.

When I'm happy, I'm easier to be around; and that fact probably makes my husband have an easier time at life, I'll admit.

But as a Christian woman, I don't want my husband to just be a genie catering to my every wish and fancy. I don't need a slave; I need a leader. And if my husband is going to be the spiritual leader of our marriage, as I want him to be (in my grown-up moments), then it's distinctly NOT his job to make me happy.

In fact, I'm thankful that he doesn't.

I'm thankful that when I want something that's bad for me, he advises me against it. I'm thankful that when I have a stupid idea (and that happens more often than I'd like to admit), he's around to be the voice of reason. I'm thankful that he knows me well enough, and is in a relationship permanent enough, to point out my flaws and show me that I'm not always right.

Does that make me upset? Uhm, yes. Does that make me give him a hard time? Hehe, yes.

But that makes him to be exactly the kind of husband God wants him to be - and the kind I need him to be. Despite my negative reactions, he does what his role demands of him; and I love him all the more for that.

Living in the thick of the matriarchal Filipino culture, it's ridiculously easy to think that women rule - that men are better off listening to their wives. It seems easier - right? Wives are happy; husbands are safe.

But that's not what a godly husband should be.

I'll say it frankly. A man who does not lead - a man who listens to his wife in everything, whose goal in life is to please his wife - is not a godly husband. He may look like a good husband to lots of people - obedient, compliant, and softspoken - but he is distinctly NOT the model of a Christian husband.

A good Christian husband exercises servant leadership. He cares and he guides. He provides and he sustains. He encourages, but he also rebukes.

I just happen to be lucky enough to be married to one.

I've heard fathers teach sons, and older men tell younger men, that the key to a happy life is to always take your wife's side and to acknowledge that she's always right.

That's a load of nonsense.

No human being is "always right," and marrying her doesn't qualify her for that label either.

I know some women might be upset at me for writing this, for "taking the man's side," so to speak. I'm sorry if my generic examples inadvertently offend. That's not my intention.

I don't take the man's side. I take God's side. I respect and honor what He designed marriage to be.

It's one man, one woman, one lifetime.

It's a leader, a helpmeet, and a commitment.

I don't always succeed in playing the role of a godly wife. I sometimes (i.e. often) take over things that are not my job. I reject the tasks my husband delegates to me, choosing instead to complain and lament. I know the model of a biblical marriage, but I seldom follow it completely.

I'm not perfect, my husband is not perfect, and our marriage is not perfect. No marriage is.

But that's why we need Him, right?

That's why Tim and I are incredibly blessed to have a biblical model to follow. We are blessed to know that God will look favorably upon a marriage where a man leads and a woman helps. We are happy to know that when the husband faithfully leads and loves, and the wife consistently respects and submits, we would be able to have a God-honoring marriage.

We've seen these principles applied, kept, and rewarded in many marriages around us. It's possible, people.

We've been given the blueprint of a truly happy marriage. Why follow anything else?

Happy God, happy marriage. And everybody wins.

Finding Mr. Darcy

I have never shied away from the fact that I adore Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. I re-read my favorite parts of the book quite regularly, and I've hungrily consumed its various adaptations. After all, there is no flawed heroine as charming as Elizabeth; and there is no elusive prince more dashing and admirable than Darcy.

I've loved the book since I was twelve.

And that means I've been waiting for my Mr. Darcy to show up for all of the twelve years after that.

There's just one little problem: Mr. Darcy doesn't exist.

He's a figment of maiden Austen's imagination, and he's been the object of my dreams for so long that he simply couldn't exist. There is no perfect man.

"No!" The fangirls cry. "We're not saying Mr. Darcy is perfect!"

No, we're not. But we sure act like he is, don't we?

The irony of it all is as follows: We are all as blind as Elizabeth.

We think that if we wish it hard enough, that handsome and brooding modern-day princes will appear and refuse to leave our sides. It doesn't work that way. We live our own lives. Sometimes Prince Charming shows up; sometimes he doesn't.

And sometimes, he comes as the person we least expect.

The charm of Pride and Prejudice's love story is that Mr. Darcy wasn't someone Elizabeth treasured right away. And for many of us in real life, it works the same way. I know I've had my share of Mr. Wickhams. But none of us really want to be with Wickham, do we? We want Darcy! But maybe if I had known earlier what qualities really made a Darcy, then I wouldn't have had to meet so many Wickhams (and Collinses too!).

What makes a Mr. Darcy?

It's not the height or the riches or the handsome features. Unfortunately, it's not. It's not the brooding introverted nature, even. In other words, it's nothing that the world exalts.

It's not the athleticism on horseback.

It's not the fame of the Darcy name (or the ten thousand pounds per annum that comes with it).

And it's definitely not the fact that he's related to Catherine de Bourgh.

What makes Darcy a prize includes much deeper, less visible things.

It's the kindness and generosity of a brother and landlord.

It's the faithfulness of a man with a heart unchanging.

It's the humility that changes a once-proud gentleman for the better.

It's the respect of a thinker for the woman he loves.

And those are the things I found in mine.

I married my Mr. Darcy, whose birthday is today, more than three years ago. Like Elizabeth, I didn't appreciate him at first, choosing rather to hurl rejections in his face (my baby brother was there, ask him). Like Elizabeth, I also took quite a while to warm up to who he truly is, rather than who I thought him to be. I didn't try to imitate Elizabeth intentionally, but I somehow ended up doing so.

But I'm glad my husband is as steadfast as my favorite fictional hero.

Happy birthday, Tim. You're far better of a man than I could ever have hoped to marry. Thank you for loving silly ol' me.

And guess what? As far as I'm concerned, my Mr. Darcy is just as handsome and dashing as Eliabeth's - and our humble home is as luxurious as Pemberley. He is the introvert that balances my talkative nature, the ballast to my whims and fancies; and even though he doesn't brood (it's not becoming, really), I think he's cool anyway.

I fall in love with him a little more each and every day. Who knows, maybe one day, all the love can compensate for the years I didn't appreciate him for who he was.

Ladies, don't be me. Look for the right things. Then maybe, when your Mr. Darcy comes along, you'll recognize him right away.

Ten Things One Year of Marriage Has Taught Me

1. Never underestimate the influence of your family. It is indeed true that you “marry a family too.” As a couple, you will forever have part in the blessings and burdens each of your birth families bear.

2. There will always be people who know you too little, care about you too little, but talk too much about your life. They’re called busybodies. They’re not likable at all; but the good news is, they don’t have one bit of true bearing on your life.

3. Don’t compare. They may be friends, relatives, colleagues, or any other people in your life. They may always seem to have an easier life. Don’t compare. Comparison breeds pride, self-pity, or just sheer contempt. Don’t compare. Did I happen to mention not to compare?

4. Your spouse should be your very best friend. No person in the whole wide world will ever share experiences the way you two will from now on. What your spouse thinks, acts, and says should be in sync with how you do. Build unity.

5. Turn to God. When trials come, don’t talk behind your spouse’s back or spread rumors about your frustrations. Cast all your burdens upon the One who can truly love and bear your burdens eternally.

6. Ditch the pursuit of romance. Measuring marriage by romance is a self-destructive goal. Romance is what results from, not what begins, a solid relationship of marital love.

7. Be willing to step out of your comfort zone. In every new marriage, the husband or the wife will have to do certain responsibilities that their birth parent of the same gender never had to do. Allow your expectations to become flexible. Enjoy figuring out your roles and tasks together. Marriage is, at the end of the day, a partnership.

8. Adjustment is normal. No two individuals naturally agree in everything. Don’t let differences frustrate you. Work them out patiently—over days, weeks, months, or years.

9. Respect your spouse’s family traditions. Those traditions may seem strange or uncomfortable to you, but they’ve been around for a while in your spouse’s life. While you don’t have to embrace them, do respect them and participate when you can. Respect the elders’ habits, and start your own traditions with your spouse.

10. Live by God’s timeline. How we plan our life is usually different from how God plans it because He knows better. Don’t try to get ahead of God nor lag behind Him. Maximize your marriage with what He gives day after day.