Since the excitement of our re-engagement (and, I might as well say it, my husband's return to the bedroom), life's challenges keep coming at us. It's evident to me that the depression my husband was self-medicating with sexual behavior still has him in its grip. He grew tremendously in the last few months, and now, though still unhappy, he has decided that this is as far as he can go. This is as good as life is going to be for him.
He'd better be wrong. I will not settle for that kind of life for myself, or for one whose life is so entwined with mine.
It's maddening to see the things he needs to change, and be unable to advise or force or conjure the changes. Only God can do that--and that is the key. My husband has reached the highest satisfaction he can find for himself. He needs an experience with his Creator to find life that is not just good enough, but abundant.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
The Other Ring
One August afternoon, seven years ago, an adorably nervous young man took me hiking in the hills, got down on his knees, and asked me to be his wife. He presented me with an heirloom ring; two-tone with one small diamond. To me, that ring was perfect. It came from the past, from his family, not from a jewelry store. With its slender band, modest stone, and white gold decorations it resembled nothing that graced the ring fingers of my peers.
One April evening, months ago, after learning of this man's betrayal and seeing his persistent self-justification, I gave back the ring and its accompanying wedding band.
One August afternoon, just weeks ago, a confident yet contrite father of two took me hiking in new hills. He got down on his knees and told me he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. He presented me with a familiar yet transformed ring; a larger diamond flanked by my birthstone and another small diamond on each side. To us, that ring is perfect. It retains its heirloom look, but includes new completely unique designs. The new diamond's value represents his desire to invest in the one he loves. It has been re-shanked, and now faces life's wear and tear with a stronger foundation.
Seven years ago, I received a perfect gift, and I wanted it to stay the same forever.
This year, I lost that gift. And a new one took its place. One that promises better things than I ever knew how to desire.
One April evening, months ago, after learning of this man's betrayal and seeing his persistent self-justification, I gave back the ring and its accompanying wedding band.
One August afternoon, just weeks ago, a confident yet contrite father of two took me hiking in new hills. He got down on his knees and told me he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. He presented me with a familiar yet transformed ring; a larger diamond flanked by my birthstone and another small diamond on each side. To us, that ring is perfect. It retains its heirloom look, but includes new completely unique designs. The new diamond's value represents his desire to invest in the one he loves. It has been re-shanked, and now faces life's wear and tear with a stronger foundation.
Seven years ago, I received a perfect gift, and I wanted it to stay the same forever.
This year, I lost that gift. And a new one took its place. One that promises better things than I ever knew how to desire.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)