Reader, I married him! 💖

When you're still in the messy middle: thoughts on marriage, caterpillars and liminal space.

Welcome, friend! I'm so glad you're here.

It finally happened! 

My amazing husband and I got married back in April, and I've officially changed my name to Abby Ball. (That's who you'll be receiving emails from in future - it's still me, just with a different last name!)

We had a beautiful wedding day surrounded by our dearest friends and family and thoroughly enjoyed every moment.

Photo by the amazing Ben Wetherall. You can see more pictures from our special day on my facebook or instagram.

So now the wedding planning, house moving and full time teaching are over I can get back to writing, and to you, dear reader. 

When you're still in the messy middle
Thoughts on marriage, caterpillars and liminal space.

When Tim and I were engaged, our constant refrain was 'when we're married...' 

When we're married, life will be easier.
When we're married, we won't be travelling to see each other all the time.
When we're married, we'll be able to... (insert option of choice!)

I thought that being married would bring me a sense of finality and completion and in some ways it has. We've promised before God to love each other forever and there's no going back on that. And communication and planning and life in general are easier once you're living in the same house all the time.

But it turns out that in many ways, I'm still living in liminal space: that in-between time when the last thing has ended but the next thing hasn't begun. I've left my old city, but the new town doesn't yet feel like home. I've left my previous job but what I'll do next isn't yet clear. I've realised one (amazing, beautiful) dream, but there are many others I'm still waiting for.

We end up 'betwixt and between' for all sorts of reasons. Grief will do that for you. So will moving to a new place, family changes or friendship shifts. I don't know what your 'in-between' looks like right now, but you do, and so does God. We're all somewhere along the road of where we were and where we want to be.

However we get there, liminal space can be painful and disconcerting. I think again and again of how caterpillars metamorphosize. Once they have spun their cocoon, they enter their own in-between time; no longer creepy-crawly bug, but not yet gracious butterfly. During the process, they dissolve into a gloopy, soup-like substance so the structure of their DNA can reform to create a whole new self. Of course, the caterpillar has no idea what's going on. All they know is that life as they knew it is over.

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In liminal space, things take their own time. We don't know how everything will work out and we feel the anxiety of living with the incomplete and the unknown. In this place, we can no longer pretend to have any of the answers to our most pressing questions. We're compelled to learn patience and to let go of what we can't control. We have to recognise all the ways in which we can't create the life we want for ourselves. In liminal space, there's no turning back. We can't rewind the clock and reclaim life as it once was. The only way forward is to stay in the soupy mess as it reforms. But that's easier said than done. We don't let go of our illusions very easily.

But liminal space is also holy ground. Uncertainty might be uncomfortable, but it also opens up the opportunity for something new to emerge. It marks a departure from the 'same old, same old' and becomes a place where we can reimagine what might be possible. If we're wise enough to sit with the discomfort, the in-between times can become places of vital transformation. Liminality might feel like death, but we're actually experiencing the birth pains of new life. We've arrived at this place precisely because we're not stuck and stagnant but growing and alive. So we struggle and wait and work with the process as the Holy Spirit recreates us from the inside. 

As we stay with the uncomfortable and the unknown, we find that God has stayed right there with us. Grace is still holding us, and God's comfort and care find us in ways we never even thought to ask for or imagine. And who knows? Maybe something beautiful is waiting to find its wings on the other side. 

Reading Recommendations
If you're in the middle of change, I can recommend Shauna Neiquist's new book, I Guess I Haven't Learned That Yet. It's a collection of gentle essays about her family's move to New York and some of the ways she embraced new ways of living when she needed to.

This Here Flesh, by Cole Arthur Riley, is a beautifully written memoir and spiritual meditation reflecting on questions around embodied spirituality. It's a thoughtful, honest book. I found myself saying 'yes!' so many times as I read it.

And finally...

I've got an exciting announcement coming up next month, so stay tuned and watch this space!

I'm so happy to be reconnecting with you here. I love hearing from you, so feel free to leave me a comment if you’d like to.

Sending you love from the messy middle,
Abby

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