My latest post:
On Sunday my husband stood on a stage and said love is dangerous. He said if you love you're going to get hurt. He said love endures all things. Love protects. He said love stands out in the surf like a giant rock, bearing the wind and waves, its face scarred by years of standing still, refusing to back down or fall back.
He stood there, himself scarred by the mistreatment he'd endured from people he'd tried so hard to love, people he still stands alongside, refusing to leave, even as they refuse to love him back. He stood there, worn out from the work of loving me, this wife who so often lets him down, this woman who wants to be loved, who expects to be loved well, but who doesn't always love back in the same generous measure.
He stood there, weary. And brave. And beautiful.