I watch you in the kitchen, slicing up a pie, July evening sloping gold across your face.
How do you know the moment when you love someone the most?
I used to think it was that wild moment of crazy grace when you asked for forever on Reesor’s sideroad and I laughed the wonder of yes.
But then the babies came with the contractions and I really did think it had to be then — you telling me afterwards that you thought your arms would be all bruised, but I’d never’d guessed, you smiling through every one as I gripped you tight, you looking right in my eyes and nodding that we can do all things in Christ who strengthens us.
Your whole life has spoken this to me, again, every time when it comes again, everything hard and tight.
Then the day my heart was shattered and you wore your “My Wife Rocks” t-shirt even though the style wasn’t really what farmers wear, and you winked whenever you caught my eye, and I thought that was then when my heart burned deepest amber — the way even your look cradled me gentle.
And now I wonder if there never is one singular moment enflamed with the most love, but it’s when you live the daily faithfulness of making whole decades of minutes tell the truth about the glorious gospel.
Your days have done this, told me the truth about who Christ is and I have seen this, the way you live, the way, even when you sin and fall, you cling to grace. When you witness unrelenting gospel love in the face of the trials of the ordinary, what could be more extraordinary?
You there in the kitchen, all aflame, you make me know it again, how marriage is two people who keep kindling and igniting in a thousand little ways, grace sparks flying high and everywhere.
When you come and grin, serve me a wedge of rhubarb heaped with ice cream, I watch how it all melts quickly on a July night in the heat of a holy burn.
My heart running all straight into yours…
Related Marriage Encouragement: Free printable to print out and surprise him somewhere