The Truth About Wedlock

A book in progress about life abroad, love, and marriage by J. D. Lock

[thetruthaboutwedlock]

We just celebrated our anniversary, and I thought I’d take some time to share this: for years, I prayed for my future husband. Mom taught me to do that. She'd say to me, "Anak, who knows where he is right now...maybe he's sleeping? Maybe he's eating? Or is he even born yet?" 

I'd always laugh at that last one, but apparently the joke was on me because the man I fell in love with was actually born three years after me, on the other side of the world for that matter. And our Creator brought us together at a very specific time, for a very specific purpose. 

People say all kinds of things about marriage; sometimes out of fear, sometimes out of joy. But what I have found to be true is this -- time moves swiftly, many are lost and plenty are selfish; but God is constant, patient, and steady, and where there is honesty, humility, wonder, and child-like faith, there will always be the bonds of love and trust. 

I thank you Lord for creating Matt, and for blessing me with the best five years of my life on this earth. I look forward to many more of them with You at my center and this incredible man by my side.

[thetruthaboutwedlock]

The List

I’m one of those obsessive list-makers. You know, the kind of person who has to have a list for everything? That’s me. Even my lists have sub-lists—sometimes numbered in sequence and other times scattered in bullet point form. Maybe it has something to do with being a writer and having this addiction to capturing the intangible with pen and paper. My absolute favourite part comes when I get to cross things off my list. I feel a sense of accomplishment and overwhelming satisfaction, as I let out a big sigh of relief and say to myself, YESSSSSS!! I did it!

What’s on my lists? Nothing truly life-changing. Just the basic, daily life stuff like reply to a friend’s email, call the dentist, print out calendars, sketch. Most of the time my lists are a mishmash of errands, chores, and things to buy. They help keep me focused and give me direction throughout the day. So you can imagine what sort of approach I took when it came to dating and finding the right man to spend forever with. I had a list. THE LIST.

I was 17 when I drafted up my very first God-please-help-me-find-the-perfect-husband wish list. Every now and then I’d modify certain details, but for the most part it remained the same. The list began merely as an innocent tool, something to guide me through the scary, unknown world of dating. But over the years, I relied on my trusty list and even made up a code for myself to only date dudes who measured up to most, if not all, of the qualities on it. There must have been about 40 qualities I had on that thing. It was a mix of both Biblical and shallow traits, all amounting to the most idealistic life partner I could imagine for myself: loves Jesus, funny, patient, tall, sacrificial, good teeth/smile, kind, athletic, generous, creative, wise, dark hair with blue eyes, industrious, hot.

Daydreaming about my future man and wondering where he was became a daily habit. I’d ask God a thousand different questions: Who is he? Why haven’t we met yet? When are we going to meet and where? How will it all happen? The Lord never answered me in an audible voice, but the promises in His word were always reassuring. Frustrating, but reassuring. Love is patient. If “patient” is the first adjective He gives to describe love, then it’s probably the most critical, right? I didn’t know that’s what He was trying to tell me back then—that I needed to wait on Him, His timing, and His plan. I thought I knew what patience was but I didn’t. I was extremely stubborn and had my own agenda which consisted of my perfect husband wish list and a bit of prayer.

But that agenda failed. I was now almost 30 and in the midst of adding a third breakup to my unsuccessful relationships roster. What was I doing? Should I even be dating anyone right now? Does my list just need modifying again? Or does God think I’m completely shallow for wanting these things and therefore not blessing me with someone? Lord, have you even made someone like this before? Does such a man exist? I was full of doubt, worry, fear, and stress. I didn’t know what to do anymore. I always thought I knew exactly what I wanted in a future husband, and honestly I thought my list, combined with doses of prayer here and there, would eventually help me find him.

It wasn’t until I first met Matt that I realized what little patience I had with my Creator and how little I knew myself. For years I had all my desires written down on a piece of paper, thinking I’d covered just about every detail I could dream up about my ideal husband. And then one day, God dropped a man into my life who embodied everything I didn’t know I even needed. And it wasn’t as though he didn’t fit any of the things on my first list. It was more like God had been writing up an entire list of His own—things He wanted just for me. But rather than giving me hints or signs of what to look out for while I was dating, He simply created someone with all these characteristics and then brought us together in His own time.

There's no competition with God. I create lists to help me form plans, but Him? He creates people and follows His own plans. Why I ever doubted His ability to provide someone specifically for me is just beyond ridiculous. He made my “perfect husband wish list” look like amateur hour. Here was a man whose character was a blend of traits and qualities that I never even considered or thought possible: strength with meekness, emotional intelligence, consistency, brutal honesty yet tender in speech, curiosity, wonder, amusement, boldness with humility, and self-control. None of these were on my original list, but they were always on God’s list for me. He alone knows me and He confirmed that truth when He brought Matt into my life. He gave me a man who was everything I desired and more.

Lists. Sure, they’re good for some things like chores and grocery shopping. But when it comes to dating? Lists are overrated. If only I could go back in time and share that piece of advice with my 17-year-old self. I would tell her to stop worrying and stop comparing men to that darn piece of paper. And I would remind her that when God tells us His thoughts are not our thoughts and our ways are not His ways, He’s not just saying that because He thinks and does things higher than us. He's driving home the point that He goes above and beyond for us. He transcends our human limitations, and He exceeds our every expectation. His word will always be accomplished and we can let out a huge sigh of relief knowing that He alone is "able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think." And in my case, list.

[thetruthaboutwedlock]

Freedom

I wasn’t single when I arrived in Sydney. In fact, I’d been dating the same guy for the past two years. However, for the last year, I’d say we were a bit on and off, and mostly because I was very stubborn. With high expectations. And indecisive. All of which makes for a very tumultuous kind of relationship. Thankfully he was a patient sort of dude, and perhaps him being nine years older than me had something to do with it. But age was never an issue because he was so fun to be around and always managed to make me laugh since the beginning. 

I met him at the opening premier of a skate film he was in called Livin’ It LA. Have I mentioned how he’s a professional skateboarder? You can guess how much my traditional Filipino father loved that. But no matter what my parents thought or the messages of disdain they tried to send through my sister, I didn’t care. I cared more that he loved Jesus, Mexican food, and had a good heart. His love for the youth was always evident and I knew that one day, he’d make a really great father. 

And perhaps that’s what actually scared me in the end. I don’t think I was quite ready to wrap my head around the possibility of becoming a mother: committing, settling down, bearing children, raising them, etc. It’s one of the hardest jobs in the world, and I respect the thousands of women out there who choose it, but I just wasn’t at that point nor was I interested in getting to it any time soon. 

In the end, to be totally cliche, it wasn’t him -- it really was me. I was still trying to just live. I was still in search of having a life that I felt really proud of. I still had so many dreams left in my heart to fulfil and an overwhelming amount of goals left to conquer. And none of the things on those lists included wanting to become a mother. On top of it all, I was exhausted by my life routine. There were times when I felt like I was slowly losing a part of myself, things I was passionate about, things I still wanted to create. But I constantly felt like all I was doing in California was losing time: sitting in traffic for hours on end, commuting, working overtime, socializing on weekends, overeating, and never really focusing on projects that were important to me. I longed to break free from it all, but I knew these things in my heart would never come to life if I continued to follow the same old grind day after day. It was a pattern I’d come to know too well throughout my post-college funk.

The thought of living somewhere else with no social agenda, no family commitments, no expectations or distractions was extremely liberating. I felt alive just at the thought of having a fresh new landscape on which I could run and spread my wings and fly. You know that song by Stevie Nicks called “Landslide” -- the lyrics could not be more fitting to how I felt at that time:

Well, I’ve been afraid of changing ‘Cause I’ve built my life around you But time makes you bolder Even children get older And I’m getting older too Oh, I’m getting older too

A few weeks had passed and I knew there was no point in trying to string out our relationship. It’s not that we couldn’t have made things work due to distance and time; it was just time to finally end things and thankfully, the distance made it easier to bear and move on -- for both of us, I think. 

I learned a lot about myself during that time. That’s usually what happens when I go through a break up -- I spend days, weeks, sometimes months, reflecting. I think about what God was trying to tell me or show me; truths about Him; truths about myself; truths about the other person. I start to wonder how much of it did I pay attention to and how much of it was I deliberately tuning out. I fill up on heavy doses of the Word. Clarity begins to form, and I start to feel renewed, regaining a sense of solidarity once again with my Saviour.

I totally get why Paul says in his letter to the Corinthians that it is better to be single. “An unmarried woman is concerned about the Lord’s affairs” but “a married woman is concerned about the affairs of this world--how she can please her husband.” (I Corinthians 7) I wasn’t married nor had I ever been married before, but I can definitely say that being in a serious relationship with someone parallels in the area of what to be concerned with and what not to be concerned with. With previous boyfriends, Jesus was always a topic of conversation, sure -- but He was never really 100% part of our lives.

It was like our faith was something we shared in common but when it came to living every day, Jesus was this separate component who we only allotted a certain amount of space for. Jesus wasn’t central, a natural and frequent topic of discussion. Rather, He was scheduled into our lives on specific days for a specific amount of time -- like going to church or attending a Bible study; those are pretty much the only times we’d ever talk about Jesus. Or sometimes we’d pray together, which meant talking with Jesus.  But what I was finding more and more was that I wasn’t truly living out my faith in all areas and all aspects of my life -- I wasn’t living life through my Saviour, I was just good at doing faith-based activities. 

I’d grown up in the church environment since birth, and part of what I was taught was to find someone of the opposite sex who shares the same love for Jesus as I did. But that’s not exactly what ends up happening in real life, is it. First, you’re physically attracted to the other person -- how he looks, his smile, his sense of humor, what his hobbies are, his personality, what music he listens to, favourite foods, etc. And after you realize the initial chemistry is there, you investigate further to see if that person is just as skilled as you are at doing faith-based activities. Of course, that’s not what you call it, but let’s be honest -- you might as well. Does he even go to church? Which church does he attend? Does he read his Bible every day? Does he attend a Bible study? Does he serve? Does he ever pray? And this is how most Christian relationships begin to develop -- they’re based on the level of involvement in these things. And it took me another year or so to realize that none of these surface-level things matter. All that matters is that the other person shares the same deeper levels of passion, curiosity, wonder, and love for Jesus as you do. 

During the first few weeks of being alone and living abroad, I was discovering what I wanted most and who I wanted most. Everything needed to be about Jesus. I was so dependent on Him -- my life, my goals, my dreams, my next breath -- I was starting to finally grasp the reality of what “For to me to live is Christ” truly meant. My identity felt as though it was being fused together as one with my Saviour’s. Perhaps it was the distance from everyone and everything familiar that triggered this change within me. Or perhaps it was the reality of my frail independence and need for reliance on Him in a big new country, full of strangers and no family. Whatever it was that set it off, I was grateful for it and for the first time in years, I felt content. 

I also knew that next time, if I ever met someone I was even remotely interested in or attracted to, loving Jesus the way I do would be a major factor in determining whether or not he would even be worth a second look. I didn’t want to be with someone who consumed me or was consumed by me. I wanted to be with someone who was consumed by the love of Jesus. I wanted someone who spent their day genuinely believing that Jesus existed in every moment. Someone who would always put Jesus first and me second. And I was resolved that if I found a man who fit all other characteristics I was looking for but fell short of these very qualities, then I would much rather be that woman Paul refers to and remain happily unmarried, focused on the Lord’s affairs alone.

That’s when God decided to drop the big one on me. And I didn’t even see it coming.

[thetruthaboutwedlock]

LAX to SYD

I wasn’t expecting to fall in love that December. The whole purpose for why I was even moving to Sydney was to fill in a role for one year -- a temporary contract or “secondment” as they call it here. I was just so completely excited to finally be leaving California. I couldn’t wait to live abroad. 

Guess you could say I’ve always wanted to live abroad. The thought of being in another country and experiencing a different culture had appealed to me ever since I was a little girl and my parents took me back to the Philippines with them. I was five, but I remember a lot -- the smells, the easy vibe, the humidity, the mosquitoes, the concrete walls and tiled floors, showering outside in the pouring rain, screaming at the little lizards skirting around the house, and my favourite: the fresh bread rolls we call “pan de sal” that my uncle used to bring back in a brown paper bag every morning for our breakfast.  

As a kid, Mom used to tell me stories about how her dad encouraged her to travel far beyond the islands and leave the Philippines if she was to ever get married. Every year, my Dad would take us on a big family vacation. He’d save up all his extra cash and use it to fund our trips, giving me and my sisters the opportunity to explore places beyond the San Francisco Bay Area like the Grand Canyon, Washington, Vancouver, New York, Florida, Hawaii, Massachusetts, and D.C. Even throughout high school I was encouraged to travel, going on mission trips with groups of other teenagers to Chicago and Ecuador. 

It wasn’t until college that my attempts to get out of the country and live abroad began to fail, and miserably so. During my sophomore year, I applied to a study abroad program in England through my university and though I was accepted, the school on the other side of the pond was not impressed with my grades and ended up rejecting my application. This was the first time a situation like this had ever happened. I remember sitting in the Provost’s office and crying to her about my situation because I felt humiliated. So many of my friends had applied and were going, but now I wasn’t. I’d be left behind.

Graduation came around and I was making temporary plans to work/live/study Spanish in Seville with one of my girl friends. I actually am not sure what ever became of that or if she ever ended up going, but as you can guess now, I never made it to Spain. Teaching English in China was another option I attempted that also fell through due to an array of last minute changes which my parents saw as a red flag, eventually convincing me that this was not the shining opportunity I had signed up for. 

A few years had passed since that incident, and I still had this heavy desire to live, work, or study in another country. A co-worker of mine was applying to get her Masters in Creative Writing at the University of Edinburgh, Scotland. To me, being the complete nerd that I am, this option sounded like absolute magic. I hustled to get my letters of reference in, sent my application, and much to my surprise, I was accepted. I couldn’t believe it! Was I really going to pursue my Masters in Scotland?!?

Nope. Too expensive and the timing was a bit off. I had a serious boyfriend and wasn’t feeling confident financially, still waist deep in debt with my student loan and credit card bills. And so I decided to stay in put, be patient, and return to work. Thankfully, I ended up picking up loads of short-term contract jobs through my temp agency at the time. And that’s when I landed the gig at GHD -- no, not the awesome hair straightening tool, but rather an international engineering firm based out of Australia with offices worldwide. The Orange County office was where I would be planted for the next couple of years, moving up from receptionist through various administration roles and finally, to Marketing Coordinator. 

I was travelling constantly and loving it. The company had recently acquired a grip of similar, but smaller businesses across the US in Arizona, Washington, and New York and I was busy meeting with all the marketing managers from each office, getting them accustomed to our brand and our ways of doing things -- at the same time, not having a damn clue as to what standard protocol was for such things during acquisitions. I had a degree in English, not Marketing. But my boss had a lot of trust in me and so I continued on, organizing events and meetings, printing new stationery, templates, and signage, and delivering a lot of what I like to call “sorry-not-sorry” goodies to new employees with their new GHD-styled company logo on it. 

Looking back on that time now, I realize it was actually quite a heavy, testing period for me both personally and professionally. I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d last in that particular role, until one day in September 2009 I read about an opportunity to join the corporate marketing team in Sydney and thought to myself, perhaps this was it. Was it -- the opportunity I’d been waiting for? Was this one actually meant just for me? 

At the time, I was taking a discipleship course at my church and was just learning about how to take notice of the verses that pop out to you when reading the Bible. The reading at the time was Isaiah 6 and as I was contemplating all these things, debating whether or not I should even apply, the words of verse 8 jumped out at me: “Then I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?" Then I said, "Here am I. Send me!" That was all the convincing I needed. I felt confident this opportunity was mine and no one could take it away for it had been confirmed right there and then as I read that Scripture. I remember ringing my parents first, telling them I was going to apply and then ringing my boss, who was even more elated than my own parents about it, giving me his full support.

By December 1st, I was on a plane headed towards Sydney, Australia with my 457 visa and two suitcases full of who knows what -- probably 75% snacks and 25% shoes. I had no idea what would be waiting for me there. I didn’t know that behind the scenes, my new boss was making all these plans to get me re-acquainted with her step-son. I didn’t know she and her husband were talking about me to him and reminding him of how I was coming to live and work in Sydney. I didn’t know anything -- I was clueless. All I knew was that I was going to be part of the corporate marketing team, gain a bit of experience about branding, and return to California after a year. Boy was I wrong.