I’m in Europe for the next two weeks, and a few dear friends have offered to stand in my space and share their thoughts on stuff and things. Today, I would like to introduce you to my friend Stephanie May of The Lipstick Gospel. She’s one of the most ambitions, sweet, magnanimous people you will ever meet. I can’t wait to share her words with you.

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It’s that time in our lives when my friends and I are starting to pair up – less shitty relationships and heartbreaks, more love and mentions of the future.

One of my best friends is a smitten mess right now. She calls me every few days and, without greeting, launches into, “I’m in love, I’m in love and I don’t care who knows it!”

But I do know it! I know it because I feel it too and I’m so glad to share my giddiness with her. I’m so excited to compare notes and squeal about dates and ask the hard questions that we’re afraid nobody else would understand.

Sharing your relationship with your friends is the best – but also terrifying.

My boyfriend and I live in Georgia – half a country away from my closest friends. They’ve heard all about him, asking all the right questions as I tell them the details of our dates and first kiss over Skype.

But I realized that there’s a bit of franticness about the way I tell those stories. It’s almost like I’m building a case for him – wanting to show them all the reasons he’s fantastic, almost pleading for them to love him.

And they should love him.

In the tender moments when I cry, or the funny moments when he laughs at me, or when we tell each other hard truths, I can picture my friends – ecstatic and teary as they remember the windy path that led to this relationship – as they see how well he treats me and how he loves me just the way that they do.

But still – every time I talk to them, I feel like a PR agent or someone performing a sales pitch. “And he’s nice and he’s funny and he treats me really well – but we fight and challenge each other, so it’s not puppy love or anything.”

Who am I trying to convince?

Over New Years, I brought him home. And with my heart beating wildly, he met some of the most important people in my life.

I felt like a pageant mom for both sides as I wanted to shine them all up, smooth down her hair, straighten his shirt – hissing at all of them to smile.

I watched with trepidation as they interacted – making a joke or two and asking questions about hometowns and siblings.

Several times I’ve even orchestrated an awkward Q&A, as I couldn’t figure out another way for them to get to know his heart in a short weekend. “Ask him questions!” I’d insist. “Babe – tell them how we met!”

Right… because that’s how deep friendships are formed.

My biggest fear was that they were going to see a snippet of my boyfriend and that somehow it would be the wrong one. Or the opposite – that he would see them in a weird moment, or someone would be trying too hard, and all bets would be off. One wouldn’t like the other and I’d get caught in the middle.

I needed my people to love each other. I wanted each of them to see the other for the amazing love story that they are – a story of great, miraculous love, and the string of best-friend-soul-mates that made it all possible.

But something beautiful has happened – as it usually does with some time and a dash of maturity.

We’ve built trust –

Now we’re the biggest supporters of each other’s relationships, instead of looking for holes. We’ve let go of some of our over-protectiveness – trusting our best friends to make good decisions – stepping in as a support when needed.

My girlfriends love my boyfriend – not because they’re best friends (not yet anyway…), not because they’ve known him forever, and not because he tap-danced and made dinner and bought them flowers all at the same time.

They love him because I love him. And as they look at me, shining and full of the real kind of love, they can see that this time is different.

Something’s different about this one and they don’t need to know him to see that.

And he loves them. He loves them because he knows they’ve had such a profound impact on me. He loves them because he sees the joy that they bring me, and wants me to be filled with that love and joy always. He loves them because I love them.

And the best part is that we have time. With two camps of people that love me – one on either side – I get to sit in the middle knowing that over time and organically, the two will come together. And that in the meantime, they’ll love each other because they both love me.

The performance is over. The critics are satisfied. I’m safe, right in the middle.

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Stephanie May is a world-traveling journalist who is in love with Jesus, with life and with all things beautiful. In July 2012, she returned from the World Race, an 11-month mission trip to 11 countries around the world (she blogged about it, too!). Currently, she is working for Adventures in Missions as a Storyteller. When she’s not traveling (and especially when she is), she’s writing for The Lipstick Gospel. You can follow her on Twitter at @LipstickGospel.

I’m in Europe for the next two weeks, and a few friends have offered to stand in my space and share their thoughts on stuff and things. Today’s post is written by bestselling author Gary Thomas. Gary’s writing has inspired me and encouraged me in many ways. His most recent book is called The Sacred Search: What if It’s Not About Who You Marry, But Why?

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Why do so many Christians believe that passionately pursuing a marriage somehow threatens God, undermines his providence, and is tantamount to idolatry?

The same women who say, “God will bring the right person at the right time; I’m just going to sit around and wait” rarely display that attitude when it comes to finding a wedding dress. They pore over magazines and catalogs, they shop many stores, they spend days and even weeks finding the perfect dress.

Why is it idolatrous to pursue a good man, but it’s not idolatrous to pursue a beautiful dress? If you don’t wait for God to bring you a dress —

Why wait for God to bring you a man?

And when it comes to men finding women, the Bible uses the most explosive, enticing language possible to urge men to take the pursuit more seriously. It not only assumes a search, “A noble wife, who can find?” (Prov. 31:10) but then makes it sound even more urgent by adding, “she is worth far more than jewels.”

Jewels in ancient Near Eastern culture provided you with your standard of living, much like a job does today. It was the currency of wealth, which means, a modern translation might say, “A good wife is better than a good job.”

Think about how much effort so many people put into educational and vocational training, mostly to get a good job.

Yet the Bible says a good wife is better than a good job.

A recent Northeastern University study found that 40% of college graduates under thirty are in a job that doesn’t require any college degree at all, much less one related to their chosen major. I’m a big fan of advanced education and believe it’s worth the investment for its own sake, not just the job it lands you, but it strikes me how many college students study for something they won’t really “use.”

Yet few suggest this is wasted time or money.

On the other hand, men and women who go to college or university or attend a large church hoping to land a good spouse are often ridiculed. Intentionally planning to find the best spouse possible seems calculating to many people today in a way that intentionally starting a franchise, or making an investment, or getting into a college, isn’t.

But which lasts longer, on average—your first job or your marriage?

Which will affect you more over the course of your life?

If you’re looking at life satisfaction, your marital status will affect you far more than your material status, which is why I think spending just as much time and effort choosing a wife or husband as you do looking and/or preparing for a vocation is a recipe for happiness.

If all of this is true, why not take God at His word and, with His blessing, more earnestly pursue a wise marital match, without embarrassment or apology? Many people are willing to relocate to get a job or education; if you have to relocate to find a good mate because you happen to be in a place where there aren’t any, what’s wrong with that?

High schoolers do community work and get involved in certain activities to look more attractive to colleges; why not do certain things to become more attractive to a future spouse? You research a company to make sure it’s a good place to invest your time in; why not put that research into getting to know and finding a potential life mate?

This might sound so radical that it borders on the bizarre, but it’s just taking God at His word.

It’s certainly an indictment of the passive way so many believers seem to think most honors God. If God is telling us that a good wife is better than a good job, let’s put marital status above material status and act accordingly.

Did you find your spouse while you were waiting around, or did you have to look? Are you searching? Why or why not? To reply to Gary, click HERE.

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Gary Thomas is author of The Sacred Search: What If It’s Not About Who You Marry, but Why? from which this article was adapted. You can follow him on Twitter at @GaryLThomas or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/authorgarythomas.

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He takes up the whole flipping bed. It didn’t occur to me that this might be a problem before we got married. I thought about how nice it was how he was so much bigger than me, how dainty and small it made me feel, and how cool it was that he could beat up all my ex-boyfriends.

But I didn’t think about what it would be like to go to war with someone twice my size, in my sleep for heavens sake, over space in my own mattress and enough comforter to stay warm.

Oh, and you think the bed thing is bad? I never thought it would bother me that he could finish off a whole pizza in a single sitting. In fact, it seemed kind of rugged and manly that by the time I sat down with my first plate of food, he was going back for seconds.

But now that we’re living together, and sharing resources…

The container of hummus that used to last a week or two doesn’t stand to last past a single sitting with my husband. The half pound of turkey I used to order from the deli hardly seems to disappear much more quickly.

And don’t even ask about the first time we “shared” an iced coffee together. Let’s just say “shared” is a generous term and we never “shared” again.

I suppose there are ways I take up space too.

Despite great effort to the contrary, it seems like I always have something I want to “talk about” for example, and I cry a whole lot more than him. I’m loud when I wake up in the morning, which drives him crazy because, although I can’t understand why anyone would want to sleep in past 7am, he would give anything for “just one more hour!”

I take up more of the budget than he does. And — listen — this is me holding back, friends. But I can’t help it. Every time I turn around I need new hairspray, more shampoo, more razors, more tampons (sorry, it’s true).

That stuff is expensive!

My husband could go months without spending any money, short of a few bucks each day on eating out, but no matter how hard I try, I don’t know, I just can’t bring myself to live like that.

I have a hard time walking into Target without discovering some new item I “need” that I didn’t previously know existed.

Darrell is “the kind of guy who would give the shirt off of his back,” his best friend told me the day before our wedding, which was really romantic until it actually happened, and I liked that shirt, and there isn’t really room in the budget to buy a new one.Or until the “shirt’ became a metaphorical “shirt” and was actually a TV, or $100 bill.

Actually, if I am being honest, it was pretty romantic. It just cause me more anxiety than before I was married.

The worst part about all of this is that it sounds very comical until you’re actually living it, actually fighting for space in small apartment with another person, actually trying to figure out what it looks like to make space for both of you — both of your hobbies, your values, your furniture, your food, your likes and dislikes.

What does it look like? How do I make space for myself without stepping on someone else’s toes?

Is that even possible?

I’m not sure I have any answers yet, but the longer we do this dance called marriage (where we actually do step on each other’s toes, a lot. It turns out we’re not very good dancers) the more I realize that space isn’t as limited as I thought it was.

It grows. It’s like an elastic band that stretches with us each time we lean out against it, and that over time, it becomes more spacious than ever. I’m learning that sometimes I make space for him, sometimes he makes space for me, but sometimes we each make room for ourselves. I’m learning not to apologize for those moments when I have to take up space, or even make more space, in order to fit.

I’m learning that the discomfort is normal, the throbbing toes are part of the process of learning to dance.

Are there places or relationships where you feel like you don’t have enough space? To reply, Click HERE.

This is a guest post by my husband, Darrell Vesterfelt. He and I were talking about this recently, and I thought it would be good for him to share his thoughts with you. I hope it encourages you, and that you’ll show him some love in the comments.

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There are some things you might not know about me. In fact, if you only know me online, I’m sure you don’t know them because I have spent a good portion of my adult life hiding these parts of myself (especially online) for fear of how people would respond to them.

Here are a few things I’ve never shared for that reason:

1. I drink alcohol.
2. I smoke a pipe.
3. I have tattoos.
4. I am not currently attending a Sunday morning church service.
5. I don’t vote (not because I am lazy but because I am convicted not to).
6. I don’t like to read books all the way through.

Maybe you can think of similar things in your life, things you don’t like to tell people or talk about because you’re afraid of how they might respond. Maybe you, like me, are afraid of exposing certain things because of the way you’ve been marginalized for sharing things like that before.

I am done hiding, letting these things define me, feeling the need to defend myself for these decisions.

I have a little bit of baggage from my time in church, especially around certain aspects of the way I choose to live my life. I’m not listing these things to boast, or to try and talk you into living your life under my convictions — I just feel like it is time to come out of hiding.

I feel like it’s time to stop letting these things define me.

It’s time to stop hiding portions of my life because of the judgement and shame that came from those who claimed to care about me and my well being.

It’s time I stop letting shame control me.

For a long time I’ve been afriad that people won’t care about me, or what I’m doing if they know the truth about me, but I’m not afraid anymore. That’s why I’m sharing. For too long shame has stolen my creativity, my personality, and my soul, convincing me to try to be someone other than who I really am.

What I hope is that, from here on out, I can begin to live according to my personal conviction, rather than to the conviction enforced upon me by my own anxiety of social acceptance. I hope you can do the same.

What are you hiding because you’re scared?