The Scars of Love

6 Years! 6 years of marriage, how can it be? This morning I sat clicking through over 1000 wedding photos. I had picked less than 100 as my favourites 6 years ago, and today I sat scrolling through them again. After these 6 years, certain images had a new and beautiful weight to them and stood out to me in ways they hadn't years ago. It was beautiful, and nostalgic, and entirely interrupted by a preschooler and toddler whose needs were still immediate, no matter the day.

I wish I had something profound and existential to write about these 6 years with my beloved. And yet, my mind is tired and foggy, my body is weary, these days have been busy days. Despite it all my heart is light and my soul full of joy. This, my friends, is where the contrast strikes me.

This love, this true married love, one of I-THOU, me and my beloved, each reflecting back to the other worthiness, beauty, eternity.....this love leaves us tired, this love has left scars and yet our hearts are light and full of joy. I have a burn scar on my arm from a frying pan when I tripped over a toddler playing on the kitchen floor, always wanting to be close to mama. I have stretch marks and a still remaining linea negra from the 2 times I carried our darlings. My body is different....softer in some places, more angular in other, less shapely in still others. my hairline is different from postpartum loss and regrowth. These are only the scars you can see. There are the unseen scars as well... those of loving 3 beings, (4 if you count our sweet one in heaven), so much that your heart is forever scarred by the bittersweet passing of time. There are scars of loving my husband so deeply that I am ever aware of my own journey, and how much I have to grow in order to be less selfish. There are scars of working on a marriage or growing as mother, and falling and rising to try again because love is worth it. There are even the scars of the pain of post partum depression, unemployment, and sickness.

But oh, these scars. The majesty, the beauty, the eternity, the sacredness - even in the ugliness and the brokenness they are beautiful and I am humbled to be growing worthy of them.

I have scars, other scars, from broken relationships, poor decision makings, self-loathing, and selfishness. These scars are weighty and in moments they threaten to discourage me.  This is the beautiful thing about married love and how the scars differ. They have a sort of weight that, heavy and profound, mysteriously unshackles me from myself and makes me free. The incredible reality of making a gift of my life and discovering my own worthiness and beauty in the self-giving. In this love I also discover my worthiness and beauty because of the epic, heroic, unwavering love my husband has for me. He looks at me and I see reflected back to me a potential I never knew I existed (even when he is annoyed with me, maybe especially when he is, haha!). He sees me, truly sees me, and the more he knows my heart and soul the more deeply he loves me. How could one not be set free to dream in the security of such a love?

6 beautiful years! I am excited to see what this next year will bring.

Thank you for your love and prayers on our anniversary,

xo

Kitchen Dance Party

"Laughter, song, and dance create emotional and spiritual connection; they remind us of the one thing that truly matters when we are searching for comfort, celebration, inspiration, or healing: we are not alone." - Brene Brown The Gifts of Imperfection

Writing this down so I don't ever forget this precious moment....

Last night, Sunday, we were at Nanny and Papa's house for Sunday dinner. The ladies and most of the men were in the kitchen putting the final touches on dinner, when Judah pressed play on the music player and upbeat Jazz music started blasting out of the speakers.

He turned around in fear and surprise, his hand over his ears, and instantly his face melted into laughter and glee. For we had all started dancing. Nanny started dancing as she set dishes out, my mom and I started dancing as we made the salad, my dad and brothers grooved to the music, and Anna shook her hips like a pro, holding Liliana's hands. Papa, on his constant wanders, came back into the kitchen intrigued by the hubbub. Immediately he started moving to the rhythm. His mind is diseased and his body getting frail but the ability to sense the rhythm is still going strong. We all laughed, and dinner took a little longer to set out because we all kept dancing.

Life has been heavy lately. World news is heavy, politics is heavy, business is heavy, finances, family, health....heavy. I think, though, as long as we have the ability for kitchen dance parties the heaviness of life will not be victorious over joy.

(Just to make you smile )

May your day have at least one kitchen dance party in it!

With love,