T is for Thirty-Two Years

                

T is for thirty-two years of marriage.

Not thirty-two perfect years,

Not thirty-two easy years,

Thirty-two real years. The good, bad and the ugly.

If I lined them up, you’d see laughter, slammed doors, family dinners and hard conversations. Inside jokes and seasons when we barely spoke. There were years when love felt effortless, and years that felt like hard work and overtime. We fought…a lot.

Mike was hard on the kids when they were growing up. He brought the weight of the world through the front door and set it down on us. There were wounds and there were words we both wish we could take back. There were nights that I lay awake wondering if love was supposed to feel this heavy. We almost broke up several times.

The last time, I was planning a separation, papers weren’t filed yet, but my heart was half way out the door. Then came his diagnosis of Ankylosing Spondylitis. We had never heard of this disease nor did most doctors. It was a scary time for both of us. I put the separation on hold, because I felt bad and felt he shouldn’t face it alone. That’s the honest truth.

But after a while, I realized that God doesn’t waste even motives that start messy.

Somewhere between doctor appointments and disability papers, between fear and fatigue, something miraculous happened. Illness humbled him, it softened him. The man who once led with intensity, began leading with more tenderness. He became a better father and a more attentive husband. 

God didn’t just change him, he softened me too. He peeled back my resentment and confronted my pride. I went to therapy for my the anger and resentment I had held on to for too long. God reminded me that grace isn’t earned, it’s given. Over time, the walls came down, the friendship returned, the laughter sounded familiar again, we renewed our vows, not as the couple we were in the first half of our marriage but as two people who survived themselves.

Somehow, we fell in love again.

Three of our four kids carry hearts of forgiveness that humble both of us. They choose to remember the positives. They remember how hard we worked, how often we struggled and how at times we sacrificed so they could have more than we did. I am sure they remember the tension, the fighting and the unfairness children shouldn’t have to endure, but 3 of them chose to move on and not let the past define our relationship with them. I know we made many mistakes and although we both came from dysfunctional homes, it’s no excuse to have repeated some of the same behaviors. In our minds, because we weren’t inflicting the abuse we both had endured as kids, we were doing things better. Even with the mistakes I made, I truly still believe I loved and did the best I could with what I knew, as a parent. Of course all these years later, looking back, I would have done many things differently and I know Mike would too. Since our kids have become adults and have lives of their own, I can honestly say, we have both been loving and supportive toward each other and all of them. All of our children are successful and self sufficient, but from time to time as they made their ways, there were struggles and Mike and I showed up. We were the parents we wished we had always been. We helped financially when they struggled, bought groceries when medically they couldn’t work. We babysat our grandchildren when we were free and often changed our own plans to become free. We did pet sitting or brought them dinner. Cleaned their house when they were hospitalized or working, when they couldn’t afford Christmas gifts, we bought them and snuck them in when they weren’t home. I don’t mention all this to keep score, I say it to show the effort and change Mike and I have put in to be better parents than we were when they were young and to be the kind of loving grandparents to our grandchildren so they will always have a safe place in us, should they ever need it. I truly have unconditional love for my kids, it didn’t expire when they became adults, in fact it grew. 

Mike has lived with chronic illness for more than half our marriage now. He became disabled and I’ve worked two and sometimes three jobs for years to keep us afloat, it’s not glamorous or Instagram worthy, it’s survival, stewardship. It was facing each day when quitting would have been easier.

And here is the miracle, our love is stronger now than it ever was when we were young and inexperienced. Not because life was easy, but because it wasn’t.

Thirty-two years has taught us that love isn’t proven in the highlight reel. It’s proven in staying when pride wants you to leave, it’s in apologies, budgets, bills and illness. It’s in the easy stuff and especially the hard.

“Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.” ~Matthew 19:6

T is for Thirty-Two

T is for tested

T is for tenacious

And by the grace of God, T is for together.