I posted one of my poems yesterday and this morning my husband opened my blog to read it. I was in the room at the time and became witness, once again, to his dominate left brain trying to comprehend my dominate right brain. “Is it supposed to look like this?” he said in a baffled tone. I began giggling. “Yes! It’s a poem!” Then he began to read it out loud. I yelled, “Stop, stop!” But he continued. I managed to shout through my tear filled laughter, “It’s a poem, not a list!” He kept on. “Stop!” I demanded. (As much as I can demand when I am laughing). “YOU read it,” he begged.
Almost twenty-six years of marriage and I still marvel; can we be any more different? By God’s grace, and a shared sense of humor, our marriage works. Love works. One of the amazing things about love is its lack of prejudice. God is love and he shows no partiality. Now I know, to fall “in love” a whole-lot-a partiality is going on. But love, the lasting thing, is a growing thing for the mere mortal. Love grows you as a person. It cleans out the prejudiced ego.
For Ron and I to get to the place we are at in our relationship, we needed to grow individually. Grow to appreciate what is foreign to us. Grow in our hearts to forgive. Grow in our willingness to be taught by each other. Grow in knowing what God values and then valuing those attributes in each another. Grow in mercy. Grow in respectful tolerance. Grow in the discipline of putting the needs of the other first. Grow in grace. Grow in our ability to take up arms for the warfare that threatens marriage.
But, never, ever, take ourselves too seriously. We’re laughing all the way to the bank. And our joint account is substantial. (I even believe he’ll appreciate this figurative language).