When you can see the sun, everything is clear as day.
I counted the nights that Graham couldn’t come home each week, doing the sums of how these hours apart would subtract from our marriage in the long run, one night at a time. So gradual you won’t even notice. And in the end we would just be parents, no longer lovers.
It was this anxiety, this desire, this covetousness that drove me to fight and quarrel with him (even though he does his very best to come home faithfully every evening). An anxiety that told the same old lie since the beginning of the world: God is not for you! You have to make your own marriage work. You have to spend time together to make it work. You are not going to make it like this. You have to try harder. You have to make it work.
It is wrong; I know now.
And I have to keep on knowing till death do us part, that:
God is for me. God is for my marriage. God is in my marriage. God wants my marriage to display to the world the loving relationship between Jesus Christ and the church.
The way, God’s way, is so simple, so clever, even a little cheeky. Spend as much time as Graham needs to spend with me! (Not, how can I get him to spend all his time with me!) Instead of counting the hours, consider his needs. Instead of satisfying my own needs, count him as more significant than myself.
Eureka. Joy. Grace.
A joy that comes from following my Saviour and not “saving my marriage”.