I closed my eyes and opened them and I became his wife that fall afternoon and I promised and pledged my life to his own.
He cupped my face and my life with the sureness of his hands and his dad pronounced us husband and wife and that aisle wasn’t the end point of our marriage…it was only the beginning.
I closed my eyes and I opened them and I watched him become a daddy – I watched him cup his newborn daughter in his hands and the wonder on his face only deepened what I knew about his heart.
I closed my eyes and I opened them as he caught his second born daughter, my ears only catching the tail end of the words he prayed softly over the vernix covered skin that barely contains the wildness of her. He loved strong when I was lost in a world of depression – he loved strong enough for the both of us.
I closed my eyes and I opened them as he became the father of a son. As he wrapped his arms around the both of us and held me when I began to bleed out and he kept me focused on his breath when mine became faint.
I closed my eyes and I opened them and I can remember his voice, but not his face. I can’t remember his face, but I remember his arms as he pulled me close to his chest – as he supported his wife and his sister-in-law after finding his father dead.
I closed my eyes and I opened them as we drove away from a home and a life shattered and broken – as the air froze our breath in misty clouds and -21 degree weather. He held my hand as my tears fell and he whispered again the promise we had made,
No matter what, we will trust and praise God and we will get through this…together.
I closed my eyes and I opened them as he left coffee behind and began a new ministry and because of his trust, our lives and our family has grown.
I closed my eyes and I opened them and he told a joke and I laughed and our third daughter was born and he holds her swaddled form against the checkered shirt on his chest and my heart – it feels whole. It feels full.
I closed my eyes and this morning I opened them twelve years later to find him sleeping next to me in a city far away and the fireplace still glowing…
And so much has changed and so much hasn’t and he has more grey in his hair but that same handsome face; more laugh lines around his eyes, but the same pull toward my heart.
Twelve years have flown by and will only fly faster and each time around the sun will etch those lines on faces deeper and I want to love well. I want to love my husband with Christ’s love at the center and when Josva read those words of Paul’s over us all those years ago, I had no idea. No idea how desperate I would become to live those words out. How desperate I would need Jesus to form my heart to His own.
I close my eyes and each morning they open to the new day we are given and the new year we have. And one day, my eyes will close and no longer open on this side of eternity, and for all the years I’ve been given here and all the timelessness that will be before me there, I want this to be my legacy. I want our life together to be marked by Love.
Twelve years and I long for more. Long for more time and more moments and for his hand on my face. I long for time to slow down just a little so I can savor this love we’ve been given just a little longer…