Year 17

Last Saturday, we celebrated our 17th anniversary. This one, while not special in number, was the sweetest one of all.

After the past two years, I feel like we worked harder to get to this one. I also feel like we love each other better than ever before.

I don't have to enumerate the reasons why the past two years have been hard. I can't honestly say that either of us ever considered leaving. However, we were exasperated at times and wondered how it would ever work out. Things were so unstable and uncertain that the future was scary. We both feared what the next bad thing would do to our relationship.

We didn't have the easiest start. Our wedding and honeymoon were a disaster. We were so different. He had been a single guy living a bachelor life for well over ten years. To say we had a lot of adapting to do was an understatement.

I'll just get completely honest. My husband had no clue what he had gotten himself into. I was a mess. I had debt. I had severe mood swings we didn't understand. I was angry. I didn't like him, but didn't want to leave. At least not most of the time. Ok. I wanted to leave all the time.

It's hard to admit, but I was abusive to him both physically and verbally. I had a rage that would come over me and I would spin out of control. I had no understanding or even memory of my actions most of the time. I left him many times. Most times it was late at night and I would take off barefoot down the road spewing hate and obscenities at him.

His family hates me and I hated them. My family hated me and loved him and I hated him for that. I lied and cheated. I manipulated until I got my way, only to hate him after. I trashed him to anyone who would listen and accused him of all the terrible things I was doing.

This wasn't just the average rough start to a marriage. There was a whole lot going on with me that we didn't know and didn't understand. We didn't know I had PTSD. We didn't know about a long list of other issues and problems.

Think my husband is a saint? Me too!

This man! Let me tell you about him and I'll do it through tears. It's painful to know and absolutely amazing grace.

He never left. Never even considered it. As I yelled that I hated him and wanted a divorce, he'd repeat how much he loved me through sobbing and crying. As I lost control and took swings at him, he wrapped me up as tight as he could and held me until I calmed down. He hunted for hours when I threatened suicide and hid from him.

The list goes on. Before you hate me, please keep in mind that there was a lot more to the story that we wouldn't understand until much later in our marriage.

By no means was he perfect. He held onto a lot of anger toward me for a lot of years over my actions. He let his unforgiveness ruin a lot of the good times. He let his hardened heart keep him from seeing a desire in me to change or have a better life. He allowed his family to interfere and have input where it wasn't helpful.

To the best of his ability, he loved me through it. I've asked him over the past few years why. His answer is always the same. He took a vow in front of God to love me for better or worse. Last night, we had a similar discussion. We both agreed that nobody would have known how to correctly love someone who believed and wanted to be unlovable. He eventually had a mountain of information to take in and assimilate. I think even he admits now that the deck was stacked against him and he did the best he could at the time. We both agree that a lesser man would have given up long before.

At five years, I began to love him. At ten years, I started to understand what that love meant. Now, I'm completely in love with him. I love him beyond what I can describe. There are no words. He is a part of me. No, I don't always like him but I always love him.

It's been a long road. A lot longer than I can write here. I never thought I'd say this, but it's a love story. It's an awesome story of how God can work in lives even before they become committed to Him. It's a story of suffering and perseverance. It's painful and beautiful. It's a story of grace and mercy.

Of course I regret that it took so long to love him the way I do now. But without the suffering in the journey, I'm not sure I would love so deeply or have such an appreciation for him.

I'll end with this:

As a senior, my speech teacher said that real love is unexplainable. If you say you love someone and can list the reasons, then you're in love with the reasons. If you truly love someone, you'll not have any reasons and there will be no words.

I have no list of reasons and no words. I love this man because I do.