I dreamed I was sleeping in my brother's room and he and my mom entered the room to put a fishbowl with some goldfish on the nightstand. Their voices woke me up a little, and I looked at the fishbowl as they left. Suddenly, two goldfish leapt out of the fishbowl and transformed into cats, still with shimmery goldfish scales. I called out to my brother and mother, fearing the fishcats would die. Nobody came, so I decided not to care and turned around. One of the fishcats suddenly jumped on my bed. Then I woke up screaming.
I've been thinking, off and on, of something I once read: The purpose of marriage is not happiness but holiness. Never having been a "good" Christian despite my many attempts, I couldn't understand this line of thinking. Having been raised Catholic, I understood "holiness" to have as one of its main ingredients suffering — and why even want to get married if to be successful at it means to suffer? But these words never left me, bobbing up every now and then from the flotsam and jetsam of my brain. Until, one day, it dawned on me what the statement meant for me. On that same day, I also realized that I do want the gift of marriage. In fact, that is my Christmas wish this year. My view is not a biblical view, but I don't think it strays too far from it. To be holy is to be set apart from others, as God is, in his perfect goodness and righteousness, in his perfect love (yes, this is biblical; yes, I know I said I wasn't looking at it biblically). The
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