We were the least likely couple. And for good reason. In this picture, we walked out double doors thinking we held the future in our hands. Life was a party, and we were its guests.
Six years in, I was the first to want to quit. On us, my kids, my life. Reality was hard. This whole business of forever, a farce. No one can keep love up—he’s not changing, I’m always complaining.
The day I broke, God spoke. That’s the way it always goes: my stubbornness thinks it knows, until my latest weakness is exposed—out in the open, busted. When I’m out of options, God finally gets my attention.
Thankfully, gratefully after 34 years with the Lord my stubbornness yields much sooner. I know Whom I have believed. I ask faster, listen longer, trust fuller the One true Love.
Love, who suffers long, never keeps tabs on wrongs, isn’t rude, envious, or argumentative. Love, who bears, believes, hopes, endures every big and little thing.
The boy dressed up like a man, the girl wearing white—they never “fell in love”. They learned love when they understood how Jesus first loved them. That’s when everything started changing. Little by little God pruned away their old dead ways. Kindness slowly started taking over their darkness and they found real happiness. Love became the one promise they could trust.
We can’t raise glasses to our hard efforts after 40 years. No sir. We sing praises to Love who never gives up. Love who saved us then, disciplines us for our good now, and gifts us eternity with Him.