Marriage Letters: On Home
When the pot gets off the potter’s wheel and then something wonderful like oil pours in, that’s the moment the pot begins to feel at home. This is what I’m here for. This is what life’s all about. I was made to contain this oil of gladness.
I’ve felt this way with you time and time again. When we finally left the ministry and both began studying our separate desires, yours law and mine poetry, I thought we had made it. We were finally on the path, finally doing what it took to be home. These things fit us for a while and then became our brokenness. There were days our marriage felt shattered.
Remember when we were going to adopt? Or what about when we moved to the apartments considering global missions, when we wanted to live on African turf so badly that we sold over half our things before we even knew what country? What about how we’re considering ministry now?
We just can’t seem to stop thinking we’re about to be there, wherever that is, and then we break all over again. 15 years and four sons later, we still aren’t there. Even here in this new little old house we adore, there’s a waiting. A remodel is on the horizon. We knew that when we bought it. Maybe then, when the boys aren’t all sleeping in one tiny room, we’ll be there.
It’s all in flux, how planting the garden made me feel more there already than I ever have, but then the rains came and stood on the roots and hardly anything grew.
Look back at us, though, at all the times we’ve broken, when we’ve felt the most poured out and shattered. I can see it now. We were spinning on the wheel. We were in hands.
Seth, I know the truth. I feel home with you because you are half of me. But look here at the potter’s wheel. Look back at all the brokenness and see, it wasn’t the oil or the babies or the perfect dining room table or the grape vines hanging over the arbor that ever made us feel home.
Home is the wheel. The most home we’ve ever felt together has been in the healing.
Yesterday you asked me to sing with just you at church for the first time. I was so nervous. Worship is the wheel. Surrender is the wheel. Our faith is a leaping thing. Our love is oil pouring. Sometimes we end up empty and sometimes broken, but I know where we’ll end up again.
The Potter’s hands infuse us with love without fail. I believe we are spinning now.
This is a very small community of letter writers, but I believe you’d hear from us all that it’s been good for our marriages. It helps us remember and say the true things. Link up here any time this month, and again on the first Monday of every month. Next month’s topic is “What We Desire.”