Tonight, I'm finding myself sitting in front of the laptop thinking about what it's been like the past few months. Thoughts whir around my head like mosquitoes around a tender baby. The thoughts are ever changing and always the same. Most of which concern marriage. I've stated in a past blog post that I think about my wedding every day. I have for the past 4 years. I ponder what the breaking point is in a relationship that causes someone to want to end it. I wonder if it's the little things. I ask myself if it's the socks left on the floor or the coffee cups that don't get rinsed out. Is it his depression or her lack of empathy?
I wonder if one day 10 years, 13 years, 25 or 30 years down the line if I will choose to stop loving my husband. Soon after, when I think about using the word divorce, my mouth becomes tacky and dry, and my throat gets tight as if I'm trying to swallow an elephant whole. Just that tells me that I can't even fathom the thought of using anything that's happened in the past 7 years of my and Chase's relationship against him or getting tired of him and using some excuse like being tired of taking care of him, or bored, or "fallen out of love."
There's a reason why there's a cliche that says, "Love isn't a feeling, it's something that you do," or however it goes. I just think of that older country song with that line in the chorus. I've always said to Chase that I chose him. And it hit me again today that I had a pick of two (maybe three, but I'm not trying to toot my own horn, here...) guys. And the one that held the most attraction for me was the one I picked. The pursuer was the one I pursued. I was tired of being the one who chased guys. And once I let Chase know I was interested in him, I allowed him to be the one who made the decision of whether or not he wanted to be with me. Seven years later, we are married with a terrific son. These two guys, plus the fuzzy one in the kennel, are the reason why I wake up every morning. I can't imagine what my life would be like without them. I don't even want to!
There's a song by one of my favorite bands, Casting Crowns, called "Slow Fade." The chorus says, "It's a slow fade when you give yourself away, it's a slow fade when black and white turn to gray, thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid when you give yourself away. People never crumble in a day, it's a slow fade." I wonder, "what little acts have leant themselves to pulling me away from my husband and son and fur baby?" One step at a time doesn't seem so bad... not much at all... but looking back, how far have they brought me? How far has censoring my husband brought me? How far has being passive to his depression brought me? How far has me not washing the dishes brought me? How far has not keeping the house clean (because I stay at home, now, and it's one of my primary responsibilities) brought me? How far has the lack of intimacy brought me? And suddenly I feel like he's the one that's pulled away. It seems like enough to make me, or anyone, really, [to] seek affection elsewhere.
Feeling that he's the one that's being secretive or giving me the cold shoulder is crazy. I have found, however, that once I start doing and stop sitting around the house watching Netflix, I feel more loved. It's a little confusing, so I'd better explain myself. For the past 2 months, I've been watching my niece and nephew and totally neglecting my house and dishes and laundry. I had a huge pile of dishes on the counter and wasn't able to do any housework for that period of time. When my niece went to school last month and I was reduced to two kids, I decided that I may be able to bring my nephew over to my house, wash some dishes and tidy a bit. all of a sudden, I started feeling really loved. I knew that Chase was going to be grateful for what I was doing: removing cluttered boxes, washing clothes and folding them, and washing that mountain of dirty dishes. His language of love is acts of service. Mine, not so much... I started getting tired of seeing all of the boxes and clothes and dishes that I FINALLY just got up and started doing stuff. I anticipated the praise from my husband and started doing what needed to be done. And he said that I'd been working hard, he appreciated it, he felt loved and he loved me! It made me want to continue.
So, in closing, my answer to the slow fade is to love fearlessly and relentlessly.
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