I thought it would be the sex or morning coffee or the children that showed us all about love, and indeed those things have, but most of all it’s been in the losing that we’ve come to see and understand the brevity of all this adored skin, the petals fallen from the bloom so quickly. We’ve lost dearest grandparents, experienced the broken dream of adopting a daughter, and suffered two miscarriages together. We’ve had our wrong definitions – of love and faith and church – ripped painfully (yet mercifully) from our death grips.
These are the reasons that I know the rest of our lives aren’t packaged with pretty paper and bows, all the left turns we’ve been asked to take when we knew for certain we’d be turning right. Marriage hasn’t been neat, and it won’t end that way either.
I have sat with and witnessed suffering at the end of three bodies, their souls crossing over the veil. I’ve felt the presence of God in literal death and also in the figuratives. God has given proof of Himself every time we’ve experienced loss.
I tell our young married friends that until you’ve experienced loss, you have no idea how much you can love, how sitting in pain tightens your knot together, makes the roots reach for nourishment. Death does indeed have a temporary sting. But what death intends to set you back, God intends to move you forward.
We would never choose it, but we have been moved forward by loss, and I can’t say how grateful I am to be moving forward with you. I remember when I could recall every single time I’ve seen you cry. It’s been long enough now and we’ve broken down enough that I can’t recall all the tears anymore.
I love being muddled together with you. Thank you for enduring.
I’m having a hard time keeping up, have that breathe-through-a-straw feeling, so today Joy of Joy in This Journey will be graciously hosting the marriage letters link-up. On the topic of loss, she and her husband, Scott, have authority, and I admire them both so much, how they never stop working it out.