Loving every day.

Falling in love.

Before I met my husband I would daydream of the wonderful things we would do together, what our life would look like.  Sipping mojitos at the beach, staring into one another's eyes over a candle light dinner, someone to tie the Christmas tree to the top of the car, holding hands down the street, making a mad dash in the rain and laughing hysterically when we're soaking wet.

Love doesn't really happen like that, and yet it does.  In bits and pieces throughout a lifetime together.  We have had momentary blips of movie perfect romance.  Yet our life is made up of the day to day.  The frustrations of a broken dishwasher, bills to pay, jobs to work, kids to care for.  Our conversations are not unending.  They are not amazing.  There are moments that we could talk for hours, lost in our own little world of togetherness, and others with nothing more than a small recant of the day before returning to our own devices.

At this point in our marriage, every story has been told one thousand times, our kisses are common, our love is quiet.  

We are coexisting.  We don't have a lot of magical, knock your socks off moments.

Our love is steadfast.

We laugh and we talk.  We make dinner and go on walks.  We play frisbee.  We cuddle on the couch and work near one another.  

I remember when I watched other's marriages in this stage and I wondered if they loved each other.  

When the sparks and fire are gone, what's left?  I have found it is a slow and steady burning.  The coals are hot, but the flames are dormant.  

It may seem as if I am making our marriage sound old and worn out.  Yet it is so far from that.  It simply isn't the exciting, heady arousal of new love.    

We have fallen into a rhythm of love.  We know each other, like a favorite sweater that fits perfectly.  We drink our marriage like a well aged wine, slow, lingering, tasting each sip, and savoring the complexities of merging flavors. 

I tend to be the one in the relationship that needs more reassurance.  I want things to be picture perfect, always.  We fight and I wonder if we've lost the love.  We don't talk beyond good morning and good night and I worry we are falling out of sync.  

I get in my head.  And that is the worst place you can go.  You see, your mind will lie to you and play tricks on your heart and emotions.  We could go days with nothing more than a quick kiss on the way out the door and my husband will be perfectly happy.  He never frets about our marriage.  He is in it hook, line, and sinker.  I'm the one wondering when it's going to end.  A heart stretched tense by watching others walk out the door, keeps me from getting too comfortable in any relationship setting.  

It has taken me too long to realize I am the one putting pressure on this to be perfect.  To be movie scene awesome at every turn.  And when it's not, I'm cueing the departure music in my head.  

Because my head is a dangerous place to go.  It turns tricks and breaks apart what I love most.  

Marriage is a beautiful and mighty union.  It holds and teaches, strengthens and grows.  It is also a choice.  Each day you choose to prefer, to love, to give, to nurture, to sacrifice, to enjoy this life side by side.  It will take chunks out of your dreams, the illusion of a life together.  Until you realize that in its imperfection, its boring day to day, there is astounding beauty.  There is strength like iron, gut wrenching joy, peace, mercy, a grace you didn't realize you deserved or were capable of giving.

Don't let go, if you wake up and look at your spouse, remembering the person you fell in love with and wondering where they went.  Don't feel discouraged when the weight of life crushes and grows you.  Each day you choose to walk hand in hand, to not falter when the other falls, to not give up when they look away, to not judge when they lose hope, to love fully without worry of return.

Love.

It is the beautiful irony of time, holding two together, while everything desperately tries to tear them apart.

                                                                                                 

Stepping into the sea of trust.

Trust.

It is something that can be given, abused, treasured, broken, retracted.

How often does someone hurt us or lie to us and we respond with, 'now my trust is broken!'  It leaves one lost and separated.  There is not an easy return from broken trust.  The simple reason being that we leave the responsibility of repairing our trust on the one who harmed it in the first place.

I forgive you.  I just don't trust you right now.

Is not forgiveness the full return of trust.  A giving away of grace?

Danny Silk from Bethel Church once said that 'trust is a choice'.

That is something that has stuck with me.  I process it.  I try to live it.  It's taken me quite a while to understand how to exist, choosing to trust.

My past is a constant blunder of pain.  There would be moments that things would seem to flow in a small sense of security, then my world would turn upside down.  When it righted itself, I would be left desperate to preserve my safety and my peace.  Trust was left trailing far behind my need to protect myself.

I was able to talk to an amazing friend, Charis Scofield, a few weeks ago and she said very simply, 'you need to trust that God has good for you'.

And like I do.  I  pondered and mulled on that one statement.  God, what is trust supposed to look like?  In my experience, the moment I let my guard down and trust, I am met with heart rending pain.  What does it mean to believe that you have good for me?  My experience doesn't line up with that.

I have hedged myself in, desperately trying to guard against the worst possible scenarios.  Allowing what could hurt me most- to play often through my thoughts, that I may be prepared for the times that pain will come.  Because it will, pain will strike.  It will blind, break and make us bleed.  It is a guarantee of life.

I stand guarded.  Clenched and ready.  I am always prepared for the blows to strike, the friends to leave, the lover to dismiss me, the sickness to come.  I'm waiting.

And because we cannot exist in this state.  I have been breaking.  My constant stance against pain, causing me to only be aware of the very worst things in life.  I cannot see joy when I am looking for suffering.  I cannot believe there is good, when I am only waiting for bad.

Attempting to control my world, desperately trying to protect myself - has left me broken.

They say that when someone falls from a high height, the only way to sustain the fall is to be completely relaxed.  When you clench and prepare for the hit, you break every bone.

I want to share the little I've learned about trust.  I am not an expert - just a sojourner seeking peace, hungry for truth.

Trust is.

A resting place.  In my mind it is lying in a cool stream.  Head back, the hand of God beneath your neck, fully supported.  Knowing that waves of pain may come, choosing to rest and breath through them.  You cannot float if you are tense.  You have to completely let go of fighting the water and as you do - your body lifts, weightless, to rest on top the sea of life.

When you live as though trust is a choice you take back your power.  Choosing to believe the best and the good.  If someone wrongs you or fails you, don't search for it.  Allow it to come in it's wave.  Then wash off of you.  Step back into trust.  It is a great tool in your hand.  It is not meant as a weapon.

Trust is a place of peace, safety, and security.  All of the things, that in my life, I thought had been broken, were only taken because I rebelled against trust.  I refused to rest through the pain and instead sought to protect myself against it - this only caused me MORE pain.  I created the very thing I sought so desperately to avoid.

When you clench and struggle, you drown.  Every time.  Sometimes it's better to be punched in the face so someone can save you, then to carry both of you under.

There have been moments that dark imaginings and doubts creep so quietly through my place of trust.  I start to feel myself tensing, falling into old habits.  Then I pull back my mental wanderings and I choose to remember that I am letting my fear go.  I am resting in the stream of life.  My place of control is what I believe, and I believe that the promises are good.

People may fail me, but I am not going to set them up to fall.  I am not going to look for their mistakes or their struggles, to hold in front of myself, to remind me not to trust.

Rather, I live hand and heart open.

If joy is to come then I will dance and sing and live in the moment without fear of the shadows growing on the horizon of my mind.

If it is pain then I will let it wash over me, I will scream and cry, then let it go - let it run it's course and continue, even through the process, of resting in trust and peace.

I am amazed at the freedom I have found here.  As what once controlled me, no longer holds dominion over my thoughts.

Each day is a sweet treasure of peace.  The promises are - yes and amen.