Love is in the little choices....
/“Are you mad at me?”
I couldn’t even enjoy the gorgeous fall scenery out the window as we drove past because I was smoldering. When it comes to fighting, my chosen weapon is silence. Only in recent years have I realized just how damaging my silence can be. I used to think I was choosing the best way to fight, because if I was quiet then I wasn’t saying the deeply hurtful things I could have been. I have come to realize that my silence is it’s own weapon, leaving my adversary (my husband in this case) to fill in the blanks of my cold shoulder and blank stare. I have been working on it- finding ways to productively share what’s bothering me without letting my tongue wage war. But the question “Are you mad at me?” made clear that I hadn’t done all that well after all. I had chosen to throw my weight around by smoldering in silence once again.
And then the war of words followed. If you had been a fly on the wall over the years of our marriage you would have recognized the restraint and the growth. But the ugliness of hurt and misunderstanding and tinges of bitterness could still be heard.
We stopped to get gas for the drive ahead. With our kids watching what dad’s next move would be- he gently came up to me and said he was sorry first. And the tension broke. And I apologized. And we talked it through. And then we took the kids across the street to get a treat for the long drive home.
As we drove, my gratitude grew. He really shouldn’t have been the one to apologize. I was the one who had come up short with patience, judged him, and then smoldered in anger.
One of the many wonderful things I have learned from Damion is not to let things fester. He brings them to the table and often times he takes more of the blame then he deserves. He shows up for me just as Jesus did on the cross- taking the blame he didn’t deserve. Damion doesn’t lead by exerting power over me. He leads by providing a marriage I feel safe in, one where he considers my needs above his own. He’s not perfect, but he never stops trying to love me better then the day before.
It’s so beautiful to think about I am nearly brought to tears. I almost decided not to write because most of this story isn’t very pretty, and it’s quite a vulnerable peek into our lives. It’s the kind of story I want to read though, and ultimately that’s why I wrote it. It’s the kind that inspires me to choose kindness over hate, to really look at how loving I am being when it’s hard, to choose the road less traveled- the one that could light the way for someone else. It’s a story of the hidden beauty that true love and healthy marriages are made up of. Life isn’t made on the mountaintop, it’s in the small choices that occur in the mundane. It’s one of the stories I want our children to have stored up in their hearts for the moment when they are struggling in a relationship and they get to make the next move. “Remember when dad said sorry to mom first- that’s probably what I should do now…”