Last week, my husband brought me roses just to make me feel special, roses and the makings for a favorite drink. I basked in my husband’s love.
Then we got in a huge fight. Hurt and anger on all sides. But in the midst of this hurt and anger, my husband wrapped his arms around me and told me that he loves me. I told him not to hug me if he didn’t mean it. He held me tighter.
That night my husband showed me both sides of his love, the romance that makes me feel special, and the unconditional love that holds me close even when we have both said hurtful things.
How many times have I stomped on God’s foot and He held me even closer?
I’m teaching at a retreat in February about the bride and bridegroom, about the Church and Christ, about our hope of the wedding feast, the kick-off to an eternity of peace and joy and harmony (and melody and rhythm…), about our responsibilities while waiting for our bridegroom, who has gone to prepare a place for us. Meanwhile, God continues to send us gifts to make us feel special, gifts in the form of springtime roses and winter sledding snow and backdoor friendships. And He continues to love us when I spit in His face, when, as the betrothed, I set my eyes on another groom, on the groom of a comfortable life or writing or music. This is our love story.
That’s the story of, that’s the glory of love.
Then we got in a huge fight. Hurt and anger on all sides. But in the midst of this hurt and anger, my husband wrapped his arms around me and told me that he loves me. I told him not to hug me if he didn’t mean it. He held me tighter.
That night my husband showed me both sides of his love, the romance that makes me feel special, and the unconditional love that holds me close even when we have both said hurtful things.
How many times have I stomped on God’s foot and He held me even closer?
I’m teaching at a retreat in February about the bride and bridegroom, about the Church and Christ, about our hope of the wedding feast, the kick-off to an eternity of peace and joy and harmony (and melody and rhythm…), about our responsibilities while waiting for our bridegroom, who has gone to prepare a place for us. Meanwhile, God continues to send us gifts to make us feel special, gifts in the form of springtime roses and winter sledding snow and backdoor friendships. And He continues to love us when I spit in His face, when, as the betrothed, I set my eyes on another groom, on the groom of a comfortable life or writing or music. This is our love story.
That’s the story of, that’s the glory of love.
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