When you add the year that we became friends and the 4 years we courted, I can now say that I’ve known my wife for more than half my life. It’s a profoundly beautiful thing, but not always for the readily visible things you might expect.
When I wake up in a funk, or have had a rough day, or even when something dramatic happens, my wife is typically the first to know. I don’t even have to say anything, she just knows. I marvel at why this is, but then if the tables were turned she’d say the exact same thing about me and I would just simply smile and say, “Well, I know you my love.” 8^D Know. We lose the meaning in english sometimes. Often we say we know somebody in regards to how we have met them once or twice, or ackowledge they exist. But the way my wife knows me is the French verb connaître, which implies a personal, or deeper and intimate knowledge of someone. Jesus knows and loves me this way, and having somebody on this earth with that kind of an understanding of me is amazing, and comforting, and sacred.
This kind of love and knowledge comes from the small things, the big things, the daily grind of triumphs and failures. The late nights praying about where the next paycheck will come or that our little ones don’t get sick because their immune systems are so fragile. It comes from holding hands at the store, random slurpee runs, and late night talks and dreams. It sounds so simple, but can be so hard at times too. There have been disagreements, choice words spoken, and mistakes made along the way. But patience, forgiveness, and lots of communication have repaired those wounds. Communication has done a lot of good things. Both small and big, day in and day out. It make those small changes in mood largely visible when the time comes.
Where am I going with all of this? I’m not sure myself really. 8^D Mainly to reflect on how humbled and honored I am to have somebody that has grown with me for so long and how much we have grown together in this journey of life. I also need to remind myself that it’s not the huge gestures, but the small details, day in and day out, that seem the most profound, but often you have to look to remember them.