Saturday, January 4, 2014

When love is more like onions




We stand outside the security checkpoint as long as they are in our sight and wave.  Annecy's head of curly black hair bobbing in and out of view and Ivan's tear-streaked face breaking into smiles between soulful glances at Ricardo.  My husband is quiet, watching his older sister and nephew disappear in the airport.  His face doesn't betray much emotion, but I see it in his eyes, feel it in the way he leans against me. 

He is sad.

His huge heart is spread between Mexico and Seattle, and while he says goodbye to one he turns to embrace the other.

We are family now.

Finally we move away, arms around each other, and he whispers, "Thank you.  Thank you for loving my family, for making them feel welcome."

My eyes sting at the corners.  "Of course," I say.  Of course.  "They are my family, too."  I love them, even in my failures to love them as well as I want to, and I marvel at the grace of this reality.  I squeeze my arm around his waist and kiss his stubbled cheek and we head home on the train.

At home, he opens a letter from Ivan and reads it aloud until his voice trails off, hoarse.  He looks at me with eyes a pool of pink mist, buries his face for a moment in my shoulder.  I smell the onion on his breath from our sandwiches and think how much I love this man.  Just for who he is.  How love kind of crept up on me throughout the year, surprising me with its depth in moments like these.

We have not come by marriage easy.  

My memories flash, oh so briefly, to all the long nights.  The fights, the tears, the aloneness.  The eventual coming back together, talking, forgiving, letting go.  To the depression, the heavy lack of hope, the raw sorrow, the anger, the buried longing, the struggle to trust.  We have crossed many bridges together and we have fallen in the waters.  But we have not drowned.  

Ours has never been a morning-makeout-with-minty-fresh-breath kind of marriage.  It's only been this, gradual drawing close to onion breath and holding each other's gaze.  This refusal to let go, even as everything seems to repel us away.  I do not love him for how he excites me, how he satisfies my passion.  I love him for the depth in those twinkling eyes, right down to his soul.  

I love him, because to love him is to love God, and somehow this steadies my weak heart.  

How this Mexican boy and Seattle girl became family remains a mystery to me.  But as this year stretches ahead, just four days old, I know one thing.  I will love him even more by the end of it.  



10 comments:

  1. Hi Amber, saw your comment on Ashley Larkin's blog today and something about it captivated me... so I hopped over here to see who you were. :) So glad I did. This was beautiful and I love the solid sweetness of your love for your hubby. God is faithful, isn't He? Even in the gut-wrenching... to see us through to the other side. So blessed by your words here. :)

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    1. Aw, Dana, that just makes me smile! I'm thankful something about my words prompted you to come over here and thankful you took the time to say hi :-) God is indeed faithful, more than I even know. It takes these gut-wrenching times for the reality of that, the beauty of that, to fill me with wonder and deep, deep gratitude. I've 'seen' you around the blog community and now I need to pay you a visit. It's always good to have more friends...

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  2. I love this for you! It makes my heart happy to hear the hope in your voice. =)

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    1. Thank you, sweet friend, for journeying with me through the highs and lows of this story. You make me smile.

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  3. You and Ricardo have come such a long ways. I am proud of both of you and so happy that our God is so committed to marriage and willing and able to do for us what we cannot do for ourselves. He loves you both so much and so do I.

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    1. We're so grateful for you, for your love and unfailing support. For all your prayers. I don't know what I'd do without you in my corner. Love you.

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  4. Amber, my friend. Your heart is so beautiful, and this honest hope gained through struggle and hard work and trust and acceptance -- it just fills me. So grateful for you and for God's work in your marriage. Cannot wait to see you on Monday!!!

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    1. Ashley, I can't really tell you how your 'presence' here and in texts and our meeting in person have been to me a source of comfort, encouragement, refreshing and hope. You have walked with me in the way you could this past year, and I thank you so much. I cannot wait to see you again in just three days!!! I've been looking forward to it...

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  5. I enjoyed reading this as my son is getting married to a Salvadorena. It is so important for them to love each other's cultures, languages and families because the sacrifice is substantial. She will move to Colorado upon getting married and I can imagine they will face similar challenges. Thankfully, like you and your husband love Jesus and are united in the Heavenly Father. Keep writing, you have a beautiful story.

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    1. Oh, thank you for sharing this... you really nailed it. The love of each other's cultures, languages, families, is a precious gift to give each other - and a rich treasure to receive. There will be challenges, yes, and there will be unique delights and ways your son and daughter-in-law will be changed that are profound. I pray blessing over them. Love for Jesus is the most amazing thing to have in common. Thank you for your encouragement.

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