The Gift

by Joanie Butman

I received an unexpected gift this week that every mother yearns for. It was a parental mountaintop moment – the kind moms live for when you realize that your child actually processed some of the life lessons you’ve attempted to instill. I’m talking about those that really matter – not the ‘remember your manners’ kind. During the teenage years this type of moment is rare, if not nonexistent, which is what made it so poignant.

My daughter gave a meditation at her school, and she spoke about something that she learned from me after I was diagnosed with cancer. Our relationship is of the typical push/pull, mother/daughter variety, so there has never been a shortage of drama at our house. Given our history, I didn’t know whether to expect a Mommy Dearest revelation or not. Even though I hadn’t heard her speech, I knew parts of it but wasn’t quite sure how she would weave it. It was just so uncharacteristic of her to choose to open up that way AND to choose to invite me.

The impact it had on me personally was probably lost on others, but I am certain everyone was touched at some level. The pride that filled me had nothing to do with her “performance;” it was about her honesty and willingness to choose to share something so personal – to put herself “out there.” Sitting in the back tearfully at times but joyful throughout, I watched my daughter blossom before me. I reveled in the fact that I had the opportunity to witness her cross the finish line of her own hero’s journey – the first of many I’m sure.  I’ve been sitting on sidelines for years, but this was the most meaningful “win” I’ve been blessed to be a part of. It reminded me of a quote I read just last week:

"Great occasions do not make heroes or cowards,

they simply unveil them to the eyes of men.

 Silently and imperceptibly, as we wake or sleep,

 we grow strong or we grow weak,

 and at last some crisis shows us what we have become."

 Bishop Wescott

The young woman before me represented years of joys and sorrows, laughter and tears, of innumerable teaching moments for both of us because I have learned an enormous amount from my children. The times when the line between teacher and student blurred are more than you might imagine. As my young son told me years ago when he was tutoring me on the techniques of boogie boarding, "You have much to learn my little padawan." We all do, and being a parent is a constant reminder of that fact every day; and some of life's hardest lessons come through our pain and those of our children.

Undeniably, Hannah learned something invaluable through my diagnosis, and I believe the final leg of her journey involved sharing what she learned with others. Her journey culminated when she recognized the power her story held to inspire others. I think at that moment, for the first time, she understood why I write. It isn’t about being an “attention whore” as she has been known to call me. In fact, it isn’t about me at all. It’s all about encouraging others and helping them along their own path and through their own suffering. We don’t need to know what it is and probably will never know how our stories affect the lives of others – but they do. Of that I am certain.

Does anyone ever feel inspirational? I doubt it, but we all have a story to share. If we can use the power of our own pain to help relieve someone else’s burden even for a moment or simply to encourage them, why wouldn’t we? Simply put, fear. What I heard and observed at Hannah’s meditation was her choosing to embrace her fear. She had already learned to face the fact that I had cancer. Without a doubt, her first step was to face her fear of my mortality, and now she sought out the opportunity to share what she learned from that experience with others, which brought her face to face with another fear - making herself vulnerable. By making peace with what she feared the most, she reached the end of her journey and charted a new course with a new perspective. When you learn to travel together with your own fear, there is a certain peace. From what she said, I believe she now understands that if you don’t face what you fear the most, you will spend your life running from it, and it is exhausting.

Hannah didn’t discuss faith in her meditation, but faith is certainly what enables me to view any problem from a divine perspective. The following devotion from Sarah Young’s Jesus Calling illustrates divine perspective beautifully,

"Make friends with the problems in your life. Though many things feel random and wrong, remember that I am sovereign over everything. I can fit everything into a pattern for good, but only to the extent that you trust Me. Every problem can teach you something, transforming you little by little into the masterpiece I created you to be. The very same problem can become a stumbling block over which you fall, if you react with distrust and defiance. The choice is up to you, and you will have to choose many times each day whether to trust Me or defy Me.

The best way to befriend your problems is to thank Me for them. This simple act opens your mind to the possibility of benefits flowing from your difficulties. You can even give persistent problems nicknames helping you to approach them with familiarity rather than dread. The next step is to introduce them to Me, enabling Me to embrace them in My loving Presence. I will not necessarily remove your problems, but My wisdom is sufficient to bring good out of every one of them."

The feedback we received since Hannah’s speech reinforced what we’ve known all along. My cancer was s blessing in disguise. It has been a gift to my family and to many others when we share what we learn from it every day. My choice not to try to outrun it but stop and embrace it joyfully, recognizing its blessings rather than its pain has made all the difference in the manner in which we travel the path that was chosen for us. Contrary to what most believe, we’ve been given a gift, wrapped in an unusual manner, but a gift nonetheless. And in the telling, she shared that gift with countless others.

We all have the ability to bestow an unexpected gift on someone who has had a profound influence on our life. The power of that gift is immeasurable. Why not choose to tell someone (a parent, a spouse, a coach, a teacher, a friend, a mentor) the importance of something you have learned from them or what they add to your life? It will be the best gift they ever receive.

There’s no reason to retell my daughter’s story. It’s hers to share. 

A Blessing in Disguise

by Hannah Butman

My eyes locked on the glowing line darting across the black monitor next to my sleeping mother, lying motionless in the stiff, white hospital bed. Needles poking and prodding her every vein, tubes and wires hanging all around, my heart reached the pit of my stomach as I suddenly saw the strongest woman in my life become the weakest. As I watched her chest slowly rise and fall, I felt a small tear trickle down the side of my cheek and a lump form in the bottom of my throat. Although on the outside I tried to maintain a cool composure, on the inside every muscle of my body had melted into nothing.

I want to take you back to December 18, 2007. It was the day that served as both my biggest curse and relative blessing. I had never seen my mom cry before, so when she walked through our kitchen door tears streaming down her face, I immediately understood something was terribly wrong. I later learned news that would change my life forever, for better and for worse. My mom had been diagnosed with cancer. A high-grade liposarcoma. As a typical twelve-year old, I tried to act like it was no big deal, that I was too cool to be affected by such alarming news. But secretly deep down, visions of chemotherapy, radiation, and surgeries flooded my head creating an instant migraine.

Friends and family began showering us with concern in the form of flowers, food, cards, phone calls and anything else you could imagine. Everywhere I went I was constantly bombarded with people asking me hundreds of questions. Coming from a person who is already emotionally reserved, talking about my mom’s cancer was the absolute last thing I wanted to do. As some of you might now, I’m not an extremely shy person but when it comes to personal information, I like to keep it to myself. I told some of my closest friends but for the most part kept my mom’s cancer a secret because I didn’t want to be looked at differently by everyone I talked to. Seeing as I am someone who doesn’t particularly like to share their feelings, some of you may be wondering why I am up here on this stage today. Ever since I was a freshman, I’ve watched as other juniors and seniors braved their way onto this stage sharing personal stories or experiences that has either had an impact on their lives or made them the way they are today. Listening to them, I was inspired and promised myself before I graduate I would work up the courage to share something I’ve learned just as those students did, no matter how difficult it seemed.

Not knowing how to accept what was happening around me, I was a mess, frazzled and depressed. With my world just turned upside down, all I wanted was my life to go back to normal. While my mom and I don’t have a terrible relationship, any one of my friends can tell you we are far from perfect. Like any teenager and their parents, we’ve had our fair share of ups and downs throughout the years. We’ve argued over the stupidest little things and the big ones. I immediately thought back to all of our stupid fights wishing they had never happened and I had never taken her for granted. I had treated the most influential woman in my life with such neglect. Needless to say I was disgusted with myself. Noticing my dejected behavior, my mom sat me down and gave me an inspirational talk that immediately changed my point of view. Though I can’t remember her exact words, I walked out of that conversation with a completely different perspective on the situation at hand. I had constantly been asking myself, “Why me?” But realized the better question should be “Why not me?” After listening to her I soon realized this wasn’t a burden at all, but a sort of blessing in disguise. Something had finally taught me to stop micromanaging my entire life and instead focus on the day at hand and what time I had left with my mom. I remember thinking, is it possible for something so wrong to be so right?

My mother’s revelatory advice taught me to accept life as it is with its challenges as well as its joys. From that moment on, I viewed life with an entirely different attitude. Instead of living for the future or dwelling in the past, I began to live in the present, embracing each day as it comes. My mom’s theme song, “Live Like You’re Dying” by Tim McGraw, became my new motto as I learned to take chances and cherish opportunity. Because her cancer is reoccurring, I started living in the moment, treasuring each second I had with her like it was my last. Thoreau once said, “Only that day dawns to which we are awake.” My eyes have been truly opened to an entirely different perspective of life, one that would be of immeasurable value in the years to come. So I guess that’s why I’m here today, standing up here in front of you, sharing something incredibly personal to me even though it’s the last thing I’d prefer to do. This new perspective has been so helpful to me over the years I hope that by sharing it, it might help others think about difficult situations in a new way.

At six-month intervals, it becomes time for another check-up. With every check-up comes another surgery, with every surgery comes more tears, but with more tears comes another reminder; a reminder of acceptance. By living in the present, you’re living in acceptance, relishing life as it is now, not as it could or should have been. We have no control over what happens to us in life, so spending our time fighting the present is pointless. In my opinion, I’ve learned one of the most valuable lessons I could ever imagine at a considerably young age. I’m sure every one of you have had something unfortunate happen to you sometime during your life; whether it was getting rejected from your favorite college, not making the team you wanted, getting a bad grade on an important assignment, or a million other things, bad things happen to all of us. Some things, like your study habits, you can control. Other things, like a cancer diagnoses, you can’t. Sometimes life gets in the way, and sometimes it takes you in directions you never asked for or wanted. However, instead of focusing on the things you can’t control, focus on those you can, like your perspective. It’s like what Chris Waddell said when he was here earlier this year, “It’s not what happens to you, it’s what you DO with what happens to you.” I can’t make my mom’s cancer go away or take back all the fights we had, and you can’t force your favorite college to admit you. But that’s okay.

Nobody knows what my mom’s future will hold; how long till her next surgery, how long till a cure, or how long till she passes away. However, that can be said for everyone. The future is simple—it’s unpredictable. Because I am at peace with my mom’s uncertain future, I am able to focus my energy and love in the present, instead of worrying about what is yet to come. She still has cancer but she’s still fighting. There is a tumor lodged near her spleen and spine but for now we’re just waiting for it to grow larger before she goes back in for another surgery.

Although I have to acknowledge the fact that she might not be able to see me graduate from college, get married, or have kids, she is here now, and that’s all that really matters. My hero, my mentor, my blessing, my mom.

Choose love again and again and again....

 by Joanie Butman

Last week’s topic of Joyful Suffering is a perfect segue into the subject of family and parenting. What a wonderful example of the parallel paths of joy and suffering. Families are also consistently a hot topic of conversation, which is not surprising given that there is no shortage of drama within families: good and bad.

In Kay Warren’s book, Choose Joy: Because Happiness Isn’t Enough, she describes the mystery of joy and suffering.

We tend to think that life comes in hills and valleys. In reality, it’s much more like train tracks. Every day of your life, wonderful, good things happen that bring pleasure and contentment and beauty to you. At the exact same time, painful things happen to you or those you love that disappoint you, hurt you, and fill you with sorrow. These two tracks — both joy and sorrow — run parallel to each other every single moment of your life…If you look down train tracks into the brightness of the horizon, the tracks become one. You can’t distinguish them as two separate tracks. That’s how it will be for us, too. One day, our parallel tracks of joy and sorrow will merge into one. Then it will all make complete sense.

There is no better illustration of this reality than families and the joys and tragedies that befall them: the sorrow of watching a family member slowly slipping away to the grip of addiction while simultaneously learning of the impending arrival of a new one, the triumph of one member while mourning the failure of another, weddings, funerals, graduations, court dates. Pain and joy are not mutually exclusive. It is a fact of life.

Having just celebrated Easter and hearing stories from others about their own family gatherings, I just had to laugh at how accurate the old adage is, “You can choose your friends but you can’t choose your family.” How often has that line run through your head while you were sitting at the Thanksgiving table? Weddings and Easter egg hunts are another infamous venue for all the crazies to come out, and I’m talking about personality traits not necessarily people.I don’t know who originally coined that infamous phrase, but I guarantee it was definitely prompted by a certain level of dysfunction.

Dysfunctional Families: there is no other kind. Only the level of dysfunction varies. I learned a long time ago there is no such thing as “normal” when it comes to people or families. Adam and Eve set the precedent. If they are considered the first children, disobedience seems to be innate as well as dishonesty and finger pointing. It goes downhill from there. Their children define sibling rivalry when Cain kills his brother, Abel, out of jealousy. Joseph’s brothers fake his death and sell him into slavery because they resent their dad’s obvious favoritism. Jacob (at his mother’s direction) takes advantage of his dad’s infirmity to cheat his brother out of his inheritance. Even the holy family had some serious issues. Mom gets pregnant out of wedlock. Fiancé is supposed to believe it is an immaculate conception and the child is God’s son. Then they take said son on a trip and lose him. They’ve been given the honor of parenting Christ and they LOSE him? Not an auspicious beginning. Keep that in mind when you are feeling incompetent as a parent. God’s own children rebelled against him and continue to do so everyday. Does that make him a bad parent? Hardly. My point is this, why should we expect to fare any better? The Bible is a soap opera of dysfunctional families, of lies and betrayal BUT also of incredible love woven through the pain.

My daughter complained recently about having to have dinner with the family every night. Why can’t we just do it once a week, like NORMAL people? Really? Can you define normal? I answered, ”Maybe it’s because I would miss the arguing and agita.” Because even amidst that we are still communicating. Our dinner table is host to some of our most profound discussions – not deliberately, they just present themselves in the course of conversation, remember those? In this age of technology, it seems to be a lost art and is the precise reason I maintain the tradition of a nightly family dinner. It is one of the few times during the day we are face-to-face without a screen or electronic device between us (including me and my husband).

Yes, families are dysfunctional. It is the nature of the beast. Whenever you have more than one person involved in anything, there will be clashes of personalities, emotions, opinions and agendas. Trust me, being raised under the same roof doesn’t guarantee anything other than the same last name. No, we can’t choose our families. Our only choice is how we decide to relate to them – especially the EGRs (Extra Grace Required). The reason this choice is so important is because our families are a training ground for life. It is within our own families that we learn the relationship skills we tend to lug around with us through life whether they are healthy or not. Often we have to unlearn things we picked up in order to establish healthy relationships as an adult. That’s why therapy is such a booming business. I can tell you this: every parent inherits the right to screw up their children in their own fashion. We may swear never to do things our parents did, but I’m sure they said the same thing when they had us. My children are already saying it. Eventually they all end up on someone’s couch describing their parent’s particular brand of insanity, usually the mother’s for some reason. I’ve developed my own headstart program for my kids. I’m keeping a log of my parenting abilities, or lack thereof, to save them time and money in their therapy. It’s the least I can do. And it hasn’t been hard because they frequently remind me how many different ways I have failed as a parent. All I can say is that it definitely wasn’t from lack of trying or caring. What I can’t figure out is why it takes so much effort to be a failure. I guess that is just one of those parental mysteries. The harder you try, the worse you get.

At those times I remind them I’m the only mother they have so they are stuck with me for better or worse; and since they are the only children I’ll have, we might as well make the best of it. Except for issues of extreme abuse and abandonment, most of us are stuck with whatever family we are born into, then we inherit another one when we get married. To complicate things even further, the prevalence of second marriages and combined families brings an added dimension to the modern family. Being stuck with each other needn’t be a negative. I am stuck with some of the most fun, loving people I know, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. That doesn’t mean we don’t have issues or dramas. That’s inevitable. It’s just that we value the relationships more than our own desire to be right or angry, hurt, irritated, insulted, inconvenienced, or any of the hot buttons that families love to press.

Have you ever noticed that families tend to treat each other in ways that most people wouldn’t treat their friends or in many cases, their dog. Why? Because they can. Most kids are better behaved for strangers than they are for their own parents. Instinctively, they know others won’t tolerate certain behaviors so they save them for their parents because they are secure in the fact that regardless of their behavior, their parents will continue to love them. Unfortunately, many do not outgrow this tendency and think the rest of the family will be just as tolerant. HA! Do any of us totally outgrow this phenomenon? I’m not proud of it, but my family definitely sees sides of me rarely displayed in public. I remember teaching my daughter’s religion class on how difficult it is to love others sometimes. All of a sudden she pipes up from the back, “Especially your family.” I was being heckled by my third-grade daughter! Unruffled, I continued until she then blurted out, “Don’t believe her. She doesn’t act that way at home!” I retired shortly thereafter. Ironically, here I am ten years later attempting to discuss that same subject and having to admit she was absolutely right. Ten additional years of experience hasn’t necessarily helped me be a better spouse, parent, daughter, sibling or in-law, but it has certainly increased the breadth of my “research.”

The following quote has to be the most frequently used reading at weddings.

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

It doesn’t say anything about love being easy. If it were, it wouldn’t be such a struggle. Author Anna Quindlen states, “love isn’t leisure, it’s work.” You can’t choose to LIKE someone, but you can choose to LOVE them, which is an action not a feeling. You don’t have to like someone or the way someone treats you, but you can choose to respond to them in a loving manner. That is the challenge within families. You have no control over anyone’s behavior but yours. Regardless of the circumstances, the only power you wield is to choose your response to hurtful or careless words and actions, criticism, betrayal, anger, selfishness, rudeness, insensitivity or any other wrongs that we tend to heap on those we are linked to by birth or marriage. Not always – but often the very ones we love the most. That’s what makes it so painful, and in some cases, so hard to forgive.

Here’s the difficult part. Usually when people are at their most unlovable is when they need love the most. I know when I am displaying my unlovable side, I can assure you it is usually born out of my own pain. It may manifest itself as anger, irritability or impatience; but if I am honest, the behavior is just masking a deeper hurt. There are certainly many instances where there is good reason to be hurt or angry, but once again, how you express it is a choice. You can be firm yet loving, and no one is expected to be a doormat. As a Christian friend said recently, “Just because I am born again doesn’t mean I was born yesterday!” Self-preservation is a powerful instinct that shouldn’t be ignored.

So what kind of choices DO we have regarding family? More than most people care to admit. Before you read them keep in mind they do not apply in extreme cases of abuse. I am sure you could all add to the list based on your own experiences. These are merely a collection of prompts handed down to me regarding how to love others and how to establish and nurture healthy personal relationships.

We can:

Choose love…

   Choose our response

   Choose what to bring into our adulthood and what to leave behind

   Choose what (and what not) to emulate in our own parenting.

   Choose compassion

   Choose forgiveness (seeking it and granting it)

   Choose gentleness

   Choose kindness

   Choose grace

   Choose laughter

   Choose mercy

   Choose peace

   Choose patience

   Choose prayer (especially for those you don’t feel inclined to)

   Choose reconciliation

   Choose respect

   Choose self-control

   Choose your battles carefully and judiciously

   Choose boundaries when necessary

   Choose to seek professional help if needed

Choose love again and again and again…

As always, the decision is yours. Choose wisely!

What would you add to this list?

Choosing Joy

by Joanie Butman

Not an easy feat given the amount of suffering in this world. Yet as a Christian, joy is what I celebrate today. Joy is the Easter basket I wake up to every morning. Christ’s story is at the heart of my story and my identity. He is the source of my joy. However, the joy I choose each day comes at a great cost to Him, which introduces the Christian paradox of joyful suffering. And what better time to discuss it than on this joyful conclusion of Holy Week? It’s no wonder this has been the topic of many conversations recently.

I met a woman last week and the subject of joy came up. She said something profound, “Whenever I see someone who is truly joyful, the first thought I have is to wonder what they’ve been through. I’ve learned that only those who have gone through great suffering can know the true meaning of joy, and it radiates from them.” I couldn’t agree more.

Joyful Suffering: a divine oxymoron if I ever heard one. The role of suffering in a Christian’s life is illustrated so painfully yet beautifully throughout Holy Week. Good Friday is the most important part of God’s plan because without the pain of Good Friday, we wouldn’t have the power, the miracle, the JOY of the resurrection. Don’t be afraid of the Good Fridays in your life or of those in your children’s lives because that is where God’s miracles and blessings occur. It is why Christ’s message “Do not be afraid” is the most repeated command in the Bible. (366 times, one for every day of the year including leap year.) Without the PAIN of Good Fridays you can NEVER experience the JOY of your own resurrections as you pass through suffering. From a Christian viewpoint, regardless of our suffering, we can rest in the joy of knowing that we will be given the power to rise from whatever ashes life creates in our lives.  

Two quotes come to mind regarding suffering. The first is the way my brother describes our Catholic school experience. I believe it is from Nietzsche. The second is from a man I met on a plane recently.

“That which doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.”

“Embrace what you hate the most or it will kill you.” Mr. W didn’t realize he was stating the heart of Christianity; but yes, we embrace our suffering because it brings us closer to God.

The biggest obstacle many people face with this subject is that they confuse joy with happiness, and they couldn't be more different. Happiness is circumstantial. Joy is a lightness of being, an enduring, underlying peace and contentment regardless of the circumstances. Make no mistake, Joyful Suffering doesn’t imply we enjoy suffering. No one does, and no one likes to watch their loved ones suffer. Suffering is painful, and I don’t know anyone who is happy going through it, but as Christians we have a joy that transcends this mortal life because we’re linked with Christ, especially in suffering. Without this Christ-based joy, our pain becomes Meaningless Suffering and Wasted Tears. If the goal of a Christian is to become Christ-like, suffering is going to be an integral part of our stories just as it was for Him. And through this suffering our character will be transformed into the masterpiece we were created to be. And that gives me cause for great joy!

Think of it this way:

If you never knew darkness, would you appreciate light?

If you never knew tears, would you appreciate laughter?

If you never knew rain, would you appreciate sunlight?

If you never knew noise, would you appreciate quiet?

If you never knew hunger, would you appreciate fullness?

If you never knew cold, would you appreciate warmth?

If you never knew illness, would you appreciate health?

If you never knew evil, would you even recognize good?

If you never knew despair, would you appreciate joy?

The list goes on and on.

We will all travel our own hero’s journey in life, at the end of which we find something or someone – maybe even ourselves. An Easter egg hunt of a different kind. It is an arduous journey of suffering, discovery and, hopefully, positive growth. Don't underestimate the speed and pervasiveness in which destructive things grow - like weeds. Sorrow, hatred, despair, bitterness and anger seem to increase exponentially unchecked, and can choke the joy out of anything in their vicinity. It depends on what we allow to take root and choose to cultivate. That's what the journey is all about. It forces us to process our suffering and choose whether to move forward stronger and wiser or to remain stuck in the mire of our own pain.

My journeys are spiritual in nature, but that’s not the case for everyone. It doesn’t lessen the power of the journey. There is spiritual growth and natural growth. Either way, the process changes us; but it’s up to each of us to determine how. And it is not a one-time event. For most of us, it will happen many times in life, and each time; hopefully, we will grow stronger because of the journey not despite it.

There is something else we receive through suffering, and it is at the crux of the Choose Wisely! effort. It is the privilege and the power to choose to use your pain to inspire and encourage others. We want to hear about your hero’s journey and how it changed you. In Richard Rohr’s, Everything Belongs, he describes the privilege and power to which I refer:

“Finally, all we have to give away is our own journey. Our own story. Then we become living witnesses. The only authority we have in other people’s lives is what we ourselves have walked and what we know to be true. Then we have earned the right to speak…We must believe in such a way that we give hope and meaning to the next generation…That’s what our lives are for; to hand on the mystery to those who are coming after us, which means that we have to appropriate the mystery ourselves.”

I will end with this thought. My definition of joy is the comfort and relief of climbing into God’s everlasting arms and allowing Him to walk me through life and carry me through my suffering. Not around it, over it, or under it. Do you know the children’s book, Going on a Bear Hunt? Every time they reach an obstacle they chant, “Uh, oh. Can’t go around it. Can’t go over it, can’t go under it. Gotta go THROUGH it.” And they do, TOGETHER. That, my friends, is my life with Christ and my path of true joy.

Suffering is a fact of life. It’s unavoidable. About that we have no choice. BUT there are times when our suffering is of our own making, an undeniable consequence of our own poor choices. Regardless, what we do with our pain and how we choose to go through it will be the story we tell and the legacy we leave behind.

Do you have your own story of joyful suffering you'd be willing to share?

What is your definition of joy?

What is the source of your joy?

Do you choose joy despite your circumstances?

I Choose You

by Joanie Butman

Jackson Brown said, “Choose your life mate wisely because from that one decision will come 90% of your future happiness or misery.”  I’m not sure if I agree with the exact figures, but there is no doubt choosing a life partner is one of the most important decisions in life. In fact, the choice of a spouse is the most common answer to our question regarding a life-defining choice.

Keeping true to form in exercising a lack of judgment, I have a few misguided choices in boyfriends. Luckily, I only married one of them, and from that marriage I came away with this piece of wisdom: It is better to be alone than with the wrong person.

Is there anyone who doesn’t look back on their dating history and exclaim, “What was I thinking?!” about at least one or two of them? I wish my choices could have been wiser and involved less pain, but I wonder if I would appreciate how blessed I ultimately was to find the man with whom I now share my life - someone with the patience and confidence to deal with an over-sensitive, quirky, free spirit.

So, how does one woman go from this

to this

in the same lifetime?

Excellent question and one not easily answered. All I can say is that I’ve always been a nonconformist and he was as nonconforming as anything I could dream up at 18. The man in the first photo represented everything people said I shouldn’t or couldn’t do. The allure and adventure were powerful and irresistible to a rebellious teenager. 

The dichotomy of my choices in men might be more extreme than your average person, but I think for most of us the person we would choose at 18 is dramatically different than the one we would choose at 30. Thankfully my nonconforming choice in boyfriends did not become my first husband, and as you can imagine, it wasn’t hard to go up from there. In my parents’ eyes, John was the answer to their fervent prayers. We married at 22 and had some wonderful years, but people change a lot from 21 – 28 as you gather life experience and maturity. You either grow up together or grow apart. We did the latter and got divorced when I was 29.

The attributes I looked for in a potential spouse at 30 couldn’t have been further from my thirst for adventure at 18. In fact, by this time I yearned for the exact opposite: someone trustworthy above all else with stability and security not far behind. A good sense of humor was also a must. I am happy to say my current husband and I have been married almost 22 years so, despite making a few wrong turns along the highway of life, I finally chose a winner. Someone who makes life fun, and who is the most loyal, stable, loving, generous man I’ve ever met. Sometimes I feel like Goldilocks who had to try out every dish until she found the one that was “just right.”

Reflecting back on a failed marriage and a successful one, I suppose Jackson Brown is right after all.

Do you agree with his assessment? Does 90% of your happiness or misery come from your choice of spouse?

What factors do you/did you consider most important when choosing a life mate?