I'm wonderful, he tells me–this woman who is learning how to be a wife. A woman who often forgets to make him breakfast or to send him off to work with lunch, who rarely irons his shirts and sometimes lets him run out of clean socks before the week is through.
And he tells me how much he loves me and he doesn't seem to even notice all the ways I fall short, like he doesn't even see them. As though he trusts this process, this journey, this story–the one that started when we said our vows...
“...being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” Philippians 1:6
And I see this work in him and I see it in me and I see it in us. And we are good, very good.
Together, we are better.
God's perfect provision in spite of our imperfections.
And he is as inspired as I by a passion and growth and love for this life we live. And how we desperately love our children, who reflect the bigger story and desperately love Jesus and how we hold on to Jesus at the center of our lives so we can love each other best and we do this, in spite of ourselves.
He slaps my bum just for fun and he holds me close and he's teaching me what marriage looks like–this woman who has had to learn how to trust.
His unconditional love, acceptance, and humility; his patience and unwavering faith, it anchors me in this turbulent life and allows me to set sail and soar–straight to his arms, for there is no other place I'd rather be.
In this holy sea of love anchored by the sacred marriage of two hearts and lives, I am free.
Edited from the Archives
Sharing with Imperfect Prose