It’s hard to say I guess. The year that started off as one of the best days together in a decade of days, turned out to be only the starting gun to the most difficult year of marriage thus far. But we are emerging, a bit tattered and tired … but emerging.
I always worried for my friends who fought with each other, privately and for all the world to hear. And now I know I should also consider the plight of the ones who never do at all. Those like us for whom utter honesty is almost too much to bear, regardless of whether we sit on the side as the giver or the recipient of words.
But i am breaking my rule today. The one where I don’t mention marriage. I’m telling you this because we are okay. We are okay after a long season of not knowing if we were going to be okay. We didn’t think we had a choice really, but you want one foot to go in front of the other easier. Because some days? It feels impossible.
We’ve gotten help. We’re getting help. And we have a ways to go. But don’t we all?
I can tell you of one thing that is changing our life together and it is the single most intimate thing we’ve done as a couple. Something that sounds so easy and so simple but for us, is not. It comes in the form of a gradual, softening of the heart toward the other person. An openness and honesty and vulnerability that could never be known eye to eye. Only knee to ear to the heart of God our Father.
We’ve begun to pray ~ together.
You’d think after all these years together, we’d have that part down by now. We don’t have much of anything down. We are a broken mess.
Laying in bed, the morning of our anniversary, Brian asked me what I hoped our 11th year of marriage would be defined as.
That was very simple for me. I want this to be the year we realize the transforming power of prayer in our marriage.
Prayer changes things. It takes where we’re at and what we’ve done and lets us lay it down. It’s hard to be mad at someone who’s praying for you, out loud, in front of you. It’s hard to keep secrets when you’re praying together and confessing sin out loud.
Writing is therapeutic and comforting for me, so it’s been hard for me to feel like I’m all here when I have this whole other side of me that is both hurting and growing.
Because growing hurts too. Even my six year old can testify to that. And my heart can as well. I guess you can just know that when the blog goes quiet, when I go quiet, things are shakin & breakin over here.
But it’s not a bad thing.
It’s wildly difficult … but quite good.
I think God is pruning us. I know He’s pruning me. I can’t even put into words the things I’ve been envisioning and experiencing in my heart. He is always good. Always good. Always good. In everything.
In everything … we give thanks.
I mean, look! He even gave us a rainbow on our anniversary! By far, the coolest gift.