Early Wednesday afternoon I found a folded slip of paper on the dining room table with one word printed neatly in a most familiar hand.
He smiled, crossed the room, and slipped his arms around my waist. “You know — a summit. A meeting to discuss important matters. We have some big decisions to make, and I want to reserve some time in your schedule before my semester starts and you leave town for a while.”
“Classes start next Tuesday, so sometime before then.”
I mentally scanned my calendar. “Tonight is probably best.”
What does one discuss at a marriage summit? I suppose that depends on the marriage, where it’s been, where it is, where it’s going.
I hadn’t yet told him my word for the year is “rest,” but it slipped without a hint of friction into these quiet moments — and we both agreed we want to live there. We spoke or didn’t as needed, comfortable silences punctuated by the sizzle and pop of the fire, leaning into our oneness and the One whose daily mercies paved a highway to this summit that stretches more than three decades long.
We touched on many things, but mostly we considered looming decisions and what we believe the Lord has been speaking to us about those matters in His Word. Insecurities defined lost their power. Fears exposed took flight. The fullness of our hearts poured out and distilled into one united desire: to know and do the will of God.
This is the year of rest. And it’s off to a magnificent start.
Note: I hesitate to post a story like this, because it feels a bit like saying, “Oh, look how spiritual we are and how awesome our marriage is.” But then I remember that anyone who reads my words on a regular basis knows that beneath those cozy socks are bruised feet of fragile clay. So I share this snapshot of grace in the hope that someone or some couple out there who needs a reason to keep climbing will be encouraged. Peace to you and yours. Love, Jeanne