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
Squeals of delight as the Daddy Monster emerges and chases the Princess Daughters through the hallway into their bedroom, scaring them in the fun way that only daddies can do. They playfully run away, knowing full well that Daddy can and will catch them and tickle them ad nauseum. But still they run, half hoping that their small legs will carry them faster than his bum knee will him. Hugs and kisses. Giggles from upstairs.
I sigh. Bliss.
I’ve missed it. I’ve failed to see it. My heart has been hardened by the bitterness of his new job and his long working hours. I’ve been numbing myself with peanut butter cups and Netflix, telling myself that it’s okay to be angry all the time because circumstances are less than satisfactory.
I’ve let my mind give way to irrational thoughts, unforgiving attitudes, hurtful diatribes circling my brain.
Stewing. Brooding. Seething.
I’ve tried to hide it under the guise of dutiful wife and mother. I’ve called it perseverance and patience and submission. But it’s more like what my communications professor called gunny sacking, throwing the little pebbles and rocks of discontent into the emotional bag hanging over my shoulder until it’s so weighted the poison inside pours out and infects everything it touches.
A few days of self-loathing. Tears. Heartache. Some hurtful words. A discussion. Prayer.
Our marriage, our relationship, preserved and protected by grace. If it weren’t for grace, we’d just be a couple of people caught up in the rat race of life hurting and hurting each other. But for grace, the would be unhappily married couple moves forward, trusting that he’s not finished with what he’s started – both in us individually and as a couple.
I have forgotten how I waited for fifteen months for him to come home from war. How I longed for his companionship, his embrace, his kiss. I forgot that I prayed fervently for his safe and swift return. I forgot how I would have given just about anything to have him home for just one day. Now he comes home everyday and I don’t appreciate it. I take it for granted.
I’m a girl and sometimes I get caught in the ebb and flow of my emotions. It doesn’t excuse me from bad behavior. It doesn’t make my sin any less sinful. If anything, it takes me to the end of myself where I find the tattered rags and remember to fall to my knees.
The marriage of two fallen, imperfect humans gives way to an imperfect marriage.
But I believe and trust that God makes all things new. ALL things. Including our earthly marriage.
P.S. I did read this to my husband and made sure he was okay with me posting this. He said, “I love it. Post it.”