When I looked at the clock, it was almost 2:00 a.m. Chris and I had been sitting out on the deck, wrapped in blankets and sadness. Knots of conflict continued.
Earlier in the evening, it had taken one long sit down conversation, a break when Chris mowed the lawn and I weed whacked, a brisk walk past the horses and corn on Concession 7, many tears and some midnight silence.
The stars were bright and the sound of the waves was comforting. I was praying quietly and Chris came out to sit with me. We were both alone, despite being together. It was awkward and isolating.
Chris and I looked at each other and his hand reached out. My hand grabbed on. Reconnected.
This had nothing to do with who was right. It wasn’t a competition. We needed to enter each other’s worlds and consider the other person’s perspective. No more words. The simple initiative of my husband’s outstretched hand communicated love and hope. Our fingers intertwined and my heart melted.
We held on to and cared for each other. We didn’t give up. We let the sun go down on our anger but we didn’t let the sun come up again without forgiving.
Today is a new day and I love Chris even more. He is a good man and a gift from God.
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast. it is not proud. IT is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered. It keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 1 Corinthians 13. 4-7