I wrote this about a month ago as we were coming out of the "newness" bliss. In hindsight, I'm so thankful for seasons as they teach me to be grateful for the really, really good ones.
So here we are. We're almost 2 months into our marriage, and the pixie dust is wearing off. I'm starting to feel a bit cramped now that his life has moved into the home I used to occupy alone. Neither of us are neat-freaks, which has probably saved us a couple of fights already. However, that also means that piles have developed due to both of our procrastination in finding a home for two people's things in a house that used to suit one. We both stand here, staring adulthood in the face. Clearly I'm the late bloomer, being 30 and still never having lived on a budget or with a cleaning schedule. I heard some of you gasp. Don't judge me. I prefaced this already with "I'm a late bloomer".
Like everyone said, the crap in my heart (namely, selfishness) is raring its head. I knew it would come, and its unwelcomed arrival has been blaring. It's honestly hard to set goals about spiritual growth and personal accomplishment when the analytical perfectionist in me just keeps mulling over all my black-hearted limitations. Shut up, Satan. Shut the old tapes off. I'm so done with you. I certainly want to be.