By Melanie Stevenson
Thirty-three years of togetherness. That’s a decent amount of time—a length I could hardly grasp when I said: “I do.” Even now, I can barely believe the years stacked behind us, with our beautiful bundle of children—and now grandchildren—all of it a blur of too fast.
It’s not for the faint of heart, this thing called marriage. The years in union with your partner are a kaleidoscope of sacred, blissful, intimate, and magical moments, but they can also be uncertain, complex, tumultuous, and breaking. They are framed with laughter, stained from tears, and cushioned with faith, hope, and love—without which they’d crumble to certain death. Yet, this diverse compilation is the making of a marriage and the making of us, together and individually.
It goes without saying that marriage is the decision to live one’s life alongside another. That recession up the aisle represents side-by-side living, saying no to selfishness, and no more going it alone—physically, emotionally, and even spiritually.
It’s a door flung open into our interior life, and the wider it remains, the better off we’ll be. Shutting the door in unforgiveness, complete self-reliance, or self-preservation isn’t an option. We signed on for a double passage. It’s not a give and take mentality either. It’s a give and give again. Forgive and forgive again. And love—amid imperfection—again and again.
It’s not just proclaiming love in word, but in being loving and in doing loving acts, speaking love out, responding in love, listening in love, and sitting quietly in love when you’d rather tell him or her a thing or two. It’s saying the hard things and staying when you’d sooner leave. It’s working to fix broken.
To be honest, you’ll probably get wounded. Love fiercely and there’s a decent possibility. But it’s far better to love than to close yourself off in protection and precaution. Fear only serves to stifle vibrant love and limit deep connection. In 1 John 4:18, we read, “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves torment. But he who fears has not been made perfect in love.” With God’s help, isn’t that the hope? To be made perfect by His love so we can fearlessly love?
I’m no poster child for marriage done right. Even so, I like to joke that because of my husband, my crown in heaven will be too heavy to carry, and I’ll be assigned a full-time Seraphim flying overhead to hold it up. But my husband the realist and will tell you I’m no angel either. But marriage isn’t so much of I love you because you’re lovable. It’s closer to I love you although you often aren’t. To know one’s faults and failings thoroughly and still love brings us closer to the heart of Jesus who loves us this way. To be wounded by the same person, forgive, and continue loving grows us to be like Jesus.
In this imperfect world full of imperfect people, love and marriage will likewise never be perfect. We are two broken people becoming less broken only now we do it together. Yet we often arrive in our marriage in this semi-broken state expecting perfection. When life gets messy, and our expectations of perfection go unmet or completely unravel, we wonder if we made the wrong choice. Sometimes, instead of digging in and shoveling our way out of the chaos, we conclude the job is too complicated and throw the shovel down.
But what if we agree that marriage isn’t perfection, nor is it the place where all our needs and desires will be met, but instead a broken togetherness.
It’s not I love you because you’re beautiful, you complete me, you say and do the right things, and show up with chocolate and flowers (though that’s never a bad idea). It more closely resembles, if we are blessed with years, I’ll love you until your skin sags. I’ll hang on to your hand over the hospital bed rail until your breath runs out. I’ll stay until the us becomes one again, and all that remains is the beautiful memories and the slightly less broken me once again. Our imperfect love becomes a reflection of the perfect love of Jesus, who loves, forgives, hopes, prays, and holds us until our dying breath.
As we celebrate our 33rd anniversary this June, we embrace another year of loving imperfectly. May each of us be found saying, “I do” again and again and laying down our lives for one another with the strength of the One who laid down His life for us. May we, by God’s grace and strength, love longer and larger than expected and leave each other better than we found us.
Photo by The HK Photo Company on Unsplash
Award-winning author Melanie Stevenson
Born in England, Melanie has never lost her love of British tea and gardens. Her family immigrated to Canada when she was five years old and settled in southern Ontario. Years later, she entered the University of Waterloo as an English major and graduated with a Bachelor of Fine Arts.
Growing up, Melanie was passionate about reading, writing, and drawing. She wrote her first novel at age twelve. Since becoming a Christian at age eighteen, she has filled countless journal pages with prayers which became the inspiration behind her devotionals.
One More Tomorrow (September 2019) is Melanie’s debut novel (the first line of which was conceived in an airport terminal) and won Best Romance at the 2020 Word Guild Awards. Her second book, Soul Focus – Trials (November 2019), is a selection of devotionals written over a span of ten years. Melanie was the winner of Best New Canadian Author at the 2020 Word Guild Awards, and received runner up for Best New Manuscript at the 2021 Word Guild Awards.
