When people observe your life from afar, it’s real easy to make assumptions. Social media helps us with this. We don’t actually have to “know” people in real life to be Facebook friends or to have a Twitter relationship. And we can all comment . . . on everything.
The culture of “Christmas (brag) letters” used to only happen in December. But, now it happens daily. Just open your browser and you’ll find somebody’s accomplishments to be jealous of–
- a great new job
- a new girlfriend
- the cutest back-to-school pictures imaginable
What you see in public is not always what you get. We all know this. But we all like believing the lie.
I’ve experienced this first hand as a pastor, but especially since 2012 when Kevin became the President of Feed the Children.
Since this time, more and more people have followed our work online. They’ve said nice things about our partnership. They’ve commented about how natural we look with all the children surrounding us. They’ve told us how jealous they are that we get to travel so frequently.
From the outside all has seemed rosey. Yet, this is the nature of leadership, especially in spotlight. Those who are leading you– you don’t know them, the way you do others beside you in the crowd.
And, yes, there are “rosey” things about our lives. We are thankful for the blessings, but . . .
There were days in the past couple of years, when I didn’t know who was going to win: Feed the Children or our marriage.
You haven’t seen the sleepless nights. You haven’t seen the tears. You haven’t borne witness to the “Oh my God!” moments where we couldn’t bear to speak to one another a single word.
But as Kevin and I kept fighting for us and remembering to look one another in the eye with affection, the blinding light in this crazy public spotlight got easier to bear. We spoke aloud where our marriage began and Feed the Children ended. We negotiated everything, one moment at a time.
And step by step, we’ve found our way.
So, as Kevin and I approach our 7th wedding anniversary on October 27th, I am in a celebratory mood for all that has been, all that we’ve figured out together, and all that we’ve fought for. (I’m so glad we’ll find ourselves together in the same state to mark the occasion).
Most of all, I’m proud of us.
Our union is by no means perfect, but it’s solid. It’s got a great foundation that has carried us through the dark times.
I admire and respect Kevin. He’s the only person I’d willingly wonder aimlessly through the grocery store with (note: I hate wandering aimlessly through anything). I find his presence in my life to be so comforting when I run into something in a parking lot coming home with yet another dent in the car (he never yells at me). For there’s no one who can talk me off a ledge like he can. There’s nobody I’d rather ask after church today: “What did you think of my sermon?” And I believe in his own words, he’d say the same thing about me.
And for better or worse, our shared calling is to Feed the Children right now. But more than this, our partnership is about something greater and it comes from God.
Happy anniversary, Kevin! I love you. And you’re looking younger all the time!