Imagine if I confessed to you that I didn't love my husband.
If you don't know me you may wonder what he did.
If you do know me you may be asking yourself what I did...this time. ;)
If you happen to know my husband, well, everyone loves my husband.
The truth is, it's easy to love my husband. Except when I'm just not feeling it.
During our courting days, I struggled to imagine a day that I could ever confess that I didn't feel love for this man I was so sure I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Our communication was great, my only complaint was he always wanted to talk. I was so sure our marriage would be one marked by sufficient, if not excessive, communication. His devotion was palpable, I would sometimes catch him gazing at me with supreme satisfaction with a look that made me fell worthy of adoration. When I was down, he was my upper. When he was down...scratch that, he was currently residing on Cloud #9.
Prior to our wedding, we read all the right books meant to prepare us for marriage. Post-wedding we kept up our communication, in part with help from our commitment to be t.v.-free for the first year, although I began to outpace him in my endurance.
I was well versed on the idea that love is not a feeling but even I was shocked when through the course of those early months my feelings began to vacillate. My love from the night before was soon evicted by my frustration and growing anger at the differences that began to affect my life. Us two becoming one was really starting to cramp my style.
But through the ups and downs of any marriage, of two imperfect people journeying together in an imperfect life, I'm grateful that our love is so much more than a feeling.
It's commitment, it's choosing, it's confessing.
For us, our marriage is forever. Not because we believe ours is a superior love or because we imagine that our love is impenetrable. It's because we know that within the heart of our spouse lies a commitment to our earlier vows and before our God that we were joined until death do us part.
It's choosing to love, choosing not to dig deep hoping for a feeling, but digging deeper still to choose to demonstrate love even if the recipient isn't necessarily deserving of it. Loving because of the beauty and the promise you believe lies within, choosing to see beyond the offense of the moment.
Every story has two sides, his and hers and the truth. Understanding that there is always the possibility that I might be wrong, the question is whether I am willing to humble myself even when I'm right. Forgiving even before an apology, confessing my regret for speaking my point without sensitivity.
Tomorrow we'll celebrate our commitment to choosing love for 9 years. After all these years, I'm still willing to confess the truth:
I love my husband.
If you don't know us, you won't have bore witness to our beginnings and the growth and depth that has followed.
If you do know us, you know we are the poster children for marriage, of the most average and ordinary but truly blessed variety.
If you know my husband, well, you'll have some insight on why he makes up the better half of a great partnership.
To my husband, some days my head still spins with the idea that you choose me, that God choose us; that this life, that the lives of our children are ours to experience together. I'm so aware of your love, so humbled by your example, so desiring of your companionship. Trusting that we've still such a long, long ways to walk as one together, I'm slipping my hand into yours and tightening my grip, expectant to see what lies before us in yet another year.