I’ve been thinking about commitment because I really couldn’t do this marriage thing without it. I would crumble into a pile of anxious, works-based acts, constantly trying to win Travis’ love. Every failure would lead me to question how close I was to the I’m-done-with-this bar. Every selfish motive would take me to a concerned place that required repentance. Every unkind word would put a pit in my stomach and a hope that he wasn’t going to leave me. And, it strikes me that this is an awful way to live.
Now, let’s be honest, I’m strong-willed and difficult – a blessing and a curse. Some days my 31 years of independence rise up and explode all over the place. And sometimes, the explosion is greeted by kind eyes and lips that tip toward the ground, strong arms that embrace and gentle fingers that wipe away the tears. Other times the explosion is met by an equally large outburst brought on by his 31 years of autonomy. And, that’s ok…because at the end of the rage, after the words have been said (or shouted), whether a solution has been found or not – he loves me. His commitment to me drips all over the place as he continues to serve me and care for me and meet my needs even in the midst of many imperfections. And, I am moved as I have come to know that this is a most blessed way to live.
And it all reminds me of someone else I know… someone else who has served me and cared for me and met my needs... even amidst my many imperfections.
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