Peace and grace. Inhale… Exhale. Peace and grace.

Those are the cues that have been swirling through my head lately. A constant reminder to inhale the peace and grace of the Lord, and exhale all of the negativity that is vying for my attention. 

Let me be painfully honest: this has been such a struggle.

I'd been told over and over again that the first year of marriage is difficult. In the months before the wedding I tried to understand what could possibly be hard about sharing life with my favorite person in the world. Whenever someone confided in me about the difficulty of the first year of marriage I would secretly think to myself, "I suppose you didn't know your spouse well enough" or "Trust me, Kyle and I have been through much harder - you don't know what you're talking about." 

(I understand these were presumptuous and judgmental thoughts, although I hope I'm not the only one with an internal dialogue as such. Or if I am, that you would forgive me for my inability to understand.)

However to a certain extent, I was completely right. Kyle and I have been through very hard and painful circumstances and we know each other extremely well. Marriage hasn't been difficult as compared to my previous understanding of our relationship. But sharing life together, sharing one another's joys and burdens in the unique relationship that is only possible through binding yourselves together in front of witnesses… That's been the difficult part. And if I had only been more humble and allowed myself to be more receptive when someone would confide the difficulties of the first year of marriage, I would have seen what they meant. Marriage is difficult because you're sharing every tiny, insignificant, stressful, painful, massive, exciting detail of life with one person. 

And if you throw a huge life change (such as an international move) into the mix, suddenly you're stuck in a glass case of emotion with your husband who can transform from your best friend to your kryptonite in a flash. You know you're being irrational and shouldn't get irritated about the little things, because everything is a little thing. Except you currently have the emotional capacity of a toddler and you can't help but throw a tantrum. And then you come to your senses and realize you've been overreacting, so you tear down those prideful feelings to look your partner in the eyes to apologize and seek forgiveness. But just a moment later you notice that the fridge was left open or a suitcase still hasn't been unpacked… And this terrible, but totally human, dance begins again.

In the midst of all of this, outside of our moments of unbelievable immaturity, we've been reminding each other to inhale and exhale. To fill our lungs, and our life, with the peace and grace from the only One who can supply it, and to expel all of the ways we are hurting each other. 

A deep breath is cleansing. It naturally relaxes you. It gives you an opportunity to pause before you speak. Deep breathing activates the portion of your nervous system that looks after your body's rest and recuperation. Deep breathing initiates healing. When we are intentionally exhaling the angst, irritations, and fears, it frees up space to inhale peace and inhale grace. 

Peace with our circumstances, peace in the midst of anxiety about the future. Peace in our relationship and in our hearts. 

Grace with ourselves as we adjust to a new rhythm of life. Grace in all of our interactions, especially with the person being overly pushy on the train home. Grace especially with each other.

At a time when our relationship could be marked only with the stress of our current circumstances, breathing in peace and grace never felt so good.

I like to begin at the grocery store.

Moving is intimidating. New place, new people, new streets, new bus lines, new jobs… Well, new everything. It never matters if you're moving to a different city, country, or hemisphere - there's always something new to learn.

And I like to begin at the grocery store.

When we first visited Sydney in August, I was feeling pretty overwhelmed with the newness surrounding us. So, one afternoon I walked to the local supermarket determined to make some sense of it. I ended up wandering down every single aisle. It was information overload and I concluded my two hour tour by purchasing a bouquet of flowers and four bottles of wine. 

But I no longer felt overwhelmed.

Learning the grocery store sounds simple, but it gave me confidence in our new location. I knew what we could eat, where to find it, and how to prepare it. I felt like I had unlocked the secret to life here! I was as proud as our Neolithic ancestors must have when they discovered farming. (True - that's an unfair comparison. But considering our initial diet was ice cream, popcorn, and prepackaged dinners, introducing "real" food was practically revolutionary.)

This time around we are living in a different suburb than before. New neighborhood, new train station, and new grocery store. But I've already conquered it. We spent about an hour there this weekend and even bought enough food for two weeks. We've quite quickly transformed from the whoknowsifwe'llstayhere diet to thisisreallifeweneedtobuymorethanpopcorn. We've even used coupons and BOGO deals.

I don't think I'll be a true local, though, until the clerks know my name. Or know me as "that girl from the States."

Or at least as "that girl who never can find serviettes because she calls them napkins."

Hello.

It has taken me entirely too long to set this blog up.

And by too long, I truly mean I've spent hours. First trying to think of a name. Then trying (and failing) to resize the picture I really wanted to use as the background. Then I got turned around as I attempted to locate the "new post" button.

Blogging isn't for the weak.

Without further ado - allow me to introduce myself.

My name is Allison. I am recently married to Kyle. And even more recently, we've traveled to Australia to start a new adventure. I'm mostly kind and friendly, a bit stubborn, sometimes sarcastic, and often insecure. But what woman in their mid-twenties isn't. I love Jesus, reading, eating, working with people, and the Oxford comma (but not necessarily in that order).

I also am nervous about writing and sharing so many personal emotions and experiences with whomever is there. As we've established: blogging isn't for the weak.

Neither is the first year of marriage. Moving to another continent. Trying to do a mental conversion of Fahrenheit to Celsius. Or exploring a new city without a map of any sort.

So, with many prayers, a bit of luck, and some gumption I'll grow stronger by facing these new challenges. I guess this can be a place for me to process it all.