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Every morning, Kenny and I take Dudley for a walk.   This is not an optional part of our day.   People ask me how I got back into shape so fast after the baby, and I simply reply, “Workout by Weimaraner.”   These dogs don’t just like their daily walks; if they get skipped, the poop hits the fan and the adorable weim turns into a Tazmanian Devil on speed.

My point in this is merely to say that we go on a walk every day.   Weather or not.   And being a creature of habit, living in a neighborhood that only has 3 roads, we walk at the same time, in the same direction, for the same amount of time, singing the same silly songs every day.   (Ok, I make up new words to the songs every day… today’s jingle was “Why do the Orioles always lose?” sung to the tune of, “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.”

After a while, you get to know the neighbors.   All of them.   They don’t know my name, but you can bet they know Kenny and Dudley.   Last week, a young guy, the kind of really nice, slightly tatooed, I’ll bet his nickname isn’t “Tiny,” possibly in construction type called out to us as we passed his house.   It turns out, he has a baby the same age as Kenny, and he mentioned that his wife didn’t really have many friends with babies, maybe she could walk with me sometime.   I’m always up for company, so I told him that if she wanted to meet me outside one morning, we’d love to have her.

This morning was the third time she was waiting outside with her little guy in the stroller, ready for a walk.   She is really sweet; maybe shy, maybe just not very talkative.   She asks me questions about Kenny, we compare notes, talk about life with a baby, date nights, in-laws… and this morning she blurted out, “I’m really not married.”   I think she’s been wanting to say that for awhile.   It turns out that they got engaged after she got pregnant, and they live with his folks, but they haven’t had time for a wedding yet.   I knew she was young (20!) but suddenly I got a little clearer picture of her life, and how different it is from mine.   Last week, she asked me, “So who do you guys  live with?”   I thought that was a little odd, but I didn’t miss a beat when I said, “We have our own house.”    

So  today we talked  about being married.   She asked me if it was fun.  

Now, personally, I think that marriage is the best invention God made.   But how can you delicately dive into that conversation with a young girl who’s living with her boyfriend and his parents, working full time, trying to raise a little boy, and forever unsure about where her life is going and who she may be with ten years from now?   Her questions centered around whether or not being married was any different from not being married.   In her life, they already live together, they are raising a son together, and from what I can gather from the few times I’ve talked to him, he wants desperately for her to be his wife.   That’s the only way he’s ever refered to her in talking to me.   This morning she had to run  back into the house, so  he waited in the driveway with the baby.   He told me that his “wife” loved our walks, and that he was so happy that she was making friends and feeling better about herself.   This guy seems like the real deal.  

So how can I talk to her in a way that will encourage her, yet not be afriad of telling her  the Truth?   I want to respect her, and at the same time be a role model, if I can.   What a strange situation I find myself in.   I don’t want to be tolerant or unoffensive for the sake of politeness and miss out on this opportunity I have to touch another’s life.   This is going to take gentle handling.  

I look at my own little guy and I see all the glorious possibilties for  his future.   And I look at this young girl, and I want her to have all that, too.