One and a half years into marriage and we are on to our third apartment. I was glad this time to be moving across the neighborhood, instead of across the country and felt especially thankful that in such a short time we have found such kind friends who helped us make it an easy and quick transition.
There is something about this move that feels like a step into adulthood and out of newlywed life where it’s just the two of us and our whims and routines. I suppose adulthood includes an extra bedroom for a baby, a real couch, curtains, and a pile of boxes still to be unpacked, sorted through, and then stored away in a closet. So here we are. Adults, I guess.
I found myself mourning a bit the coming close of this chapter of just Travis and I. A new life brings with it so much responsibility and sometimes I wonder if we can do it. If we’re “ready.”
I wondered that, too, with marriage. Was I ready to make a life with someone else? Was I ready to go out into the big world, financially independent from my parents, cooking and cleaning and grocery shopping for my own little family?
But I wonder if anyone is every truly “ready” for these big things in life in the way we often think of readiness. Maybe readiness can’t be measured. Perhaps it is more a matter of our desires and our habits and the things we love. Can I sacrifice my life for the sake of another? And now, for two people? Do I pursue love and grace and faith in the everyday moments given to me?
I don’t know if I was ready for marriage. I don’t know if I’m ready for motherhood. Our bank account wouldn’t suggest we’re “ready” for a baby. Our situation in life wouldn’t suggest that, either. But our hope is that the everyday prayers and practices of sacrifice and love will prepare us for this next step into grown-up life. If we were ready for every new stage of life, we wouldn’t need courage. Or faith.
So adult life these days feels like an act of courage. It is a choosing to walk forward, believing that all that we need will be provided. It is a confidence that even if we can’t provide a baby with all of the pleasures of this world, we can offer Little Lacy love, hope, peace, gentleness, patience, and grace. It is a certainty that this new life will also instill these virtues in us to a deeper measure. And it is a hope that the uncertainty and the everyday instability of life as our own young little family will plant the seeds of sacrifice and charity into our hearts and home where they can grow and blossom and someday flower into the only readiness that truly matters: a readiness for eternity.