Marriage With Weeds

us waterfall.jpgTomorrow morning, Jonathan and I leave for the quickest of trips to Disneyland.  We're celebrating our anniversary.  Three years ago (August 14, 2004) we wound up at the alter of our church and vowed to love and support and cherish one another forever.  I cannot believe it has been three years.  And a jam-packed three years at that.  We've done so many things together and grown tremendously as people.
 

He continues to be my best friend, my biggest fan, my supporter, my confidante, my defender, my lover, my playmate, my everything.  Thankfully, our first 1000+ days have been filled with laughter and flirting and planning for a future we're striving to make great. 

However, as is always the case, the serious things that come with growing up are forever prying into our relationship and twisting through the day-to-day like the undaunted, impervious roots of weeds in our little garden.  Jobs take up 40 hours each week.  Bills come in at the beginning of each month.  Car trouble.  Cat trouble.  Scheduling conflicts.  Family commitments.  It isn't always easy to smile. 

I suppose the way we work through it is by carrying that analogy of weeds a bit further.  Every day we manage to laugh and learn and love anyway.  The lessons we take to heart are packed in and around and between the roots like dirt.  A real relationship is both of those things.  The positive and the negative.  Without dirt, no weeds can grow; but without weeds, the soil is fragile and subject to inevitable erosion and depletion. 

Jonathan and I truly want to make our marriage a success.  So, when something new or difficult comes along, we remember that it is relative to all that is fantastic in our life.  (Sometimes it takes Jonathan literally reminding me of this...)  Then, even without realizing it, the trials strengthen our bond as husband and wife.  And every joy, even the littlest one, is magnified because not everything has been easy. 

In this way we find that all things work for the good of God and His purpose.  At the end of the day, we curl up in our bed together and, in the darkness, we can easily recall and rejuvenate our childlike faith in love and our own personal fairy tale.

I am one lucky girl. 

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This page contains a single entry by Audrey Camp published on August 17, 2007 11:00 PM.

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