Tuesday, February 14, 2012

our love story

We aren't big on Valentine's Day.

Our days are an attempt to deliberately focus in on each other.

We do this by lingering longer.

I approach his bedside, veering off from my path toward getting dressed. Making a choice to spend a few extra minutes close to him, this choosing speaks to me as much as to him.

I tuck my arms around his mid-section and he envelopes me with his strongness, and I fit in that space reserved for me.

I give him signals of my hope for intimate moments later in the day. I pray I can fulfill the moment's whisper after the day has ransacked my energy.

We carve out a day a month for each other and talk about our plans for the coming season. We exchange creative ideas on projects for our house.

The Boy talks all silly-like and we exchange glances and smile.
How this connects us warms me on the inside like a cup of hot tea.

Keeping it simple is our philosophy. 

It's actually his. I'm finally learning--trusting this is best for us.

Sometimes I sprawl a journal out on the desk with a note for him.

But, mostly it isn't my writing he is interested in--it's the truth of my heart lived out. He looks for evidence of what I say and write to be among our *whirl and twirl* of days.

I've learned so much from this man--my groom. 

He isn't perfect or even expected to be...
As much as I may frustrate him, there's acceptance for me...
He isn't my every thing, and never can be...
He's not any better than me. I'm not any worse than him. Or better...
Our uniqueness is for purpose. We're flavors to our Boy's palate...

Doing this together thing is challenging. 
     It requires a daily choosing to remember the other. 
          It requires a commitment to connect. Regularly. 

The times when it's hardest are when I haven't wanted to bend low to see his perspective. When I've been reticent to step away from my own perch.

When I remember him and his view, Every. Thing. Changes.

I begin to understand that there's always a different way.
And I begin to loosen the grip I hold on what I think is expected.

Instead of living for how our story should read, I start to just *live*.

Sometimes our living looks sloppy when pride threatens to lessen our perceived value of each other.

Rushing about here and there often leads us to putting each other in the back seat, tucked away and out of sight.

Choosing each other and working on our story, versus rapidly filling a house with babes is a choice we both believe in. Though it took me time to understand this and make it my choice, too, I now crave this togetherness like never before.

It's time in this marriage that has helped me to step back from him and step toward Him at the same time, learning the artful dance of togetherness. 

I've expected and needed less of him.
And I've trusted and enveloped more of Him.

Most of all, it's Time in living our story that has showed me Grace like nothing else.

Pure. Grace.

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