He was my best friend, my soul-mate, the agent of God’s healing. Our foundation was solid, and I entered marriage without fear. We would live in unity on our knees, I was certain, receiving this gift only to pour it back out at His feet and for His kingdom.
. . . but words pierced and misunderstandings divided, and I found myself bruised in spirit, trying to scale impossible walls, broken-hearted, and full of self-pity.
Marriage isn’t a fairy tale. It’s roots and branches, tangled, broken, mended, restored, beautified by redemption and raised in praise to the God who orders the seasons . . .
It’s like a tree planted.
My lovely friend, Emily Wierenga, asked me to write a guest post about what it means to be at this point in George’s and my marriage, having gone through the seasons we have. I was honored and humbled by her request. A lot has happened in the past thirty-two years, but God’s grace and faithfulness covers it all. Whether you’re married or not — whatever stage of life you’re in — I hope you’ll join me at Em’s place, and I pray this glimpse into our journey will encourage you in yours.