Two people, three cards, one month. A pair of trumps bookend the deuce of spades, the most solid and least volatile of the partnership deuces.
To say the female pope is a "spiritual" card is accurate, but that descriptor is currently so overused
it's become nearly meaningless. It's a little more accurate to say this mysterious lady, usually called "the high priestess" in contemporary packs, is a sign of acceptance. She accepts the phases of the moon, the high and ebb tides, and life's ups and downs, illustrated so well in many versions of trump X, the wheel of fortune. Mostly, she's wise enough in he ways of the universe to avoid trying to interfere with the natural outcomes of cyclic processes, and makes no attempt to disrupt the natural consequences, or effects, of things we've done, words we've used, or decisions made.
The hanged man, simply the symbol of betrayal in the cultural world of the creators of the first tarots, I think of as "the hung-up man" in the modern context. He's completely handcuffed and hogtied by his present difficulties, and unable to help himself. Whether this situation prevails only momentarily or permanently depends a lot on the character of the querent, the specific details of the hang-up, and a myriad of other factors. When we drew these cards a week ago, trump XII was in the near future, and now, we can see that we're going to escape the rocks and shoals we inevitably encountered. I won't go into the grisly details, although you, dear reader, if you absolutely must, may check them out at the other blog.
Long story short: We just spent a week in hell as indicated by the hanged man, but the strength of the relationship, founded on the necessary and unavoidable acceptance of a lot of things, has enabled us to get past the roadblocks. We'll be in our new house by Christmas.