After our first year of being married, Miguel and I jokingly complained that we never got a honeymoon period. Our first year was, uh, tumultuous. There was too much time spent crying, struggling and screaming my head off to truly appreciate most of it. I think for us, the honeymoon period might have been year two. I really enjoyed the past twelve months. There was more kindness, more calm, more love.
It’s not because this past year was easier. We spent two out of the past twelve months apart, with my job taking me to the east coast while he stayed in Los Angeles. Even though it was only a couple of months and even then, only a month at a time, it felt torturous. My heart and admiration goes out to the many couples who have had to spent months, years and even decades apart. It’s horrible. Even a few days without Miguel leaves me sullen and out of sorts. I can’t imagine what it’s like to do long-distance for years on end. It’s not that I don’t feel whole without him. It’s that I don’t feel like myself without him.
My late father, always the mathematician, taught me early on that a successful marriage is not a union of two halves that complete each other. Rather, he said that it takes two already whole people to make a good marriage. It is not a 1/2 + 1/2 = 1 situation, it’s 1 x 1 = 1. It’s one whole multiplied by another whole, making one flesh. My father’s point being that it actually takes God – because God is the only One who can make people whole. Without Him, we’re all just broken halves trying to fix ourselves with other broken halves.
The longer I am married, though we are still total babies in this journey, the more I’m understanding this. Christ is enough for me, He makes me whole. Being with Miguel just takes everything that I already am and takes it to another level.
Whatever God made me for, I believe being married to Miguel is a big chunk of it. Being with him has allowed me to serve God, to know God, to experience God’s working in our lives in a different way than I have before. Everyday, God uses him to to refine my character, to increase my understanding of unconditional love, to help me discover what I’m capable of. God must really know all my struggles and weaknesses and fears because He gave me a man whose strength, courage and enthusiasm for life has enabled me to step into a whole new realm of faith.
Year two was tough friends. Lots of big changes. Looking back, I see growth, but not without pain. We left a pretty good life in Los Angeles, the most heartbreaking part being that we had to say goodbye to people we love dearly and miss very much. But Miguel chose to follow God and I wanted to follow God with Him. Between the two of us, I am more prone to worry. My cynical flesh kept wanting to turn back and stay where I was already comfortable. Thank God, Miguel has not become tired of kindly reminding me of why we’re doing what we’re doing. He refused to give in to my fleeting moments of disbelief. Whenever I see his resolve and feel his gentle but firm hand take mine in confidence, I’m reminded of the vow I made exactly two years ago today:
“… to never tire of reminding you of the unchanging truth, of the Word of God – that the just shall live by faith and that if God is for us, who can be against us? And that we love because He first loved us…”
Miguel has been fulfilling my vows for me. I’m grateful.
This past year, especially with the recent move, people have called us crazy, reckless and doomed-to-fail. But if we are crazy, we’re going to be crazy following God and we’re going to be crazy together. Anything can feel a little less insane when you got another person sharing your insanity. It makes it a little easier to take that step into the great unknown when the person you love most in the world is right next to you – believing and holding on to the substance of what is only hoped for, seeing what is unseen. But that’s not insanity, is it? It’s faith.
Happy 2nd Anniversary Miguel. As the precious Lord takes your hand, mine will take yours. Where you go, I will go. May God lead us on.
Hold tight bub, I hear the next 50 years could be quite the ride.