As we were sitting beside each other this morning in meeting, I couldn’t help but think of how blessed this year has been. Never would I think that God would give me such an amazing husband–or that it would happen in such an unseemly place with such inopportune timing. I guess that’s what happens when you let God lead…
I’ve been thinking back to those first few moments when we met. I’ve tried to remember our conversation and what I was thinking. This is what I do remember: I remember thinking, “Why not?” when he asked me to dance. I remember thinking how strange it was that we lived in the same state–no, in the same city! I remember sharing pictures and stories of my family. I remember mostly him saying to me, “God gives us everything. Sometimes good. Sometimes bad. But the bad things happen because he has something good planned for us next.” Oh, how right you are, sweet husband!
It wasn’t “love at first sight” (What is that anyway?), but I was sure that he was there for a reason. So even a few weeks later, when he said to me, “Do you love me? I can’t say that I love you–that would be a lie.” I felt my first stirring of something special. After all, once a girl has been lied to about love, she’d rather have brutal honesty.
Someone here asked me when I knew that I loved Victor–and I’ve tried to pinpoint the exact moment. Maybe it was around my Spring Break. When he encouraged me to see my ex-boyfriend–just in case he was waiting for me. And I saw his heart-break in two as I shared my confusion. For sure, the two weeks away from him were harder than I expected, and when I returned I knew even more that we had something special. The following weeks were tough on both of us, as I had to rely fully in him to take care of me through a horrible kidney infection. He demanded that I be attended to at the hospital that night–and even held the cup for my urine sample. If that isn’t love…
The thought of leaving him again last summer was hard, and somehow the knowledge that we were going to be a family made it both easier and harder. I knew we would be together again, and yet, I wanted us to share the following months. God knew what he was doing as he directed me south of the border once more. And willingly, I went. Willingly, but also praying that he would be able to use us in this desert place.
The moment that Victor arrived to our new house–about a week or so after I arrived myself– he first kissed me, then our precious baby. Mamaw says that you haven’t lived until you have children, and Mama says you can’t understand a mother’s love until you have children of your own. I know this: the fact that my husband’s love for his unborn child rivals my own just makes me love him more. His belly kisses have turned to full conversations and light spankings for staying up too late, “Jania Irene and baby! What are you still doing awake!?” And while I get embarrassed by his comments to his mama about how I am sore all the time. Or when he announces to the meeting that I can’t sleep anymore. Or when he tells the doctor that I need more time off so that I can give our child breast-milk I know that it is all said with his great love and concern for his family.
My husband’s heart is bigger than I ever imagined–and I am reminded every day of what a gift he has been to me. If one year with him brings this much joy, I can’t imagine what fifty years will bring. I know that we’ll face challenges and that bumps in the road are unavoidable–but it will be just like wild Mexican taxi rides: We’ll swerve when we can to avoid the worst, we’ll slow down if we see a bump heading our way, and if we can’t do either–we’ll just hold on tight to each other to keep from being bruised, bashed, and broken.