What a marvel to know that for yet another day, the quotidian reality of my marriage exceeds any fantasy I could contrive. Pretty much every minute I've been able to spend with her in the last 22 years I've spent doing things with her, it never occurring to me that the time could be better used. As Sinatra sings, "these precious days, I spend with you..." Odd that all our foibles (mine, mostly) don't matter, and marriage shows me how glibly I spent my time a single person. And every few months or so, love grows, gets palpably bigger, deeper, wider, stronger. Maybe she really is bone of my bone, and that'll be apparent when, like St. Paul says, I can see clearly.
God comes through my wife to me. All the goodness in her, the divine energy in us...it passes through, out into our children, out into the world. How incredible to be, with her, a single conduit of such powerful grace. And the kids, borne by her, opened my ears, turning God's faint whisper into a strong voice.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Speaking of the Vocation of Marriage and Loving Spouses... #Catholic
"kkollwitz," a frequent visitor here, shared with me his blog entry written about his wife. It is simply beautiful. Here is a portion. To read the entire thing, go here. (He is author of the blog, "Smaller Manhattans," a gem.) And because it's so poetic, I'm not going to say much else except that his description and obvious joy in loving his wife made me think: This is what God intended when He brought together a man and a woman for a covenant marriage.