Marriage isn’t easy. It is a beautiful minefield, wrought with peril and joy simultaneously. What people forget to mention is that marriage takes sweat, tears, dedication, and work. When that marriage is rushed into, the work is doubled. Toss in kids and an ex-wife and the work is tripled. Ghosts from the past quadruple the work. This was the first seven years of my marriage.

My husband and I dove headlong into love and within a year had moved in together, and ran to the courthouse to be married. We had everything a failing marriage needed, including infidelity, past trauma, and horrible communication skills. I wish I could say the good balanced the bad, but we were on a rollercoaster, blindfolded, with our hands tied to the rails. Constant arguments about his ex-wife, differing parenting styles, and exes popping out of the woodwork sent our tenuous marriage into a breakneck spiral. We were sinking quickly without even realizing it.

Off the rails

In the summer of 2013, the rollercoaster that was our marriage flew off the tracks. Infidelity and mistrust created a canyon-sized fissure in a marriage that was struggling to bounce back from yet another blow. I had reached the lowest point. A shattered heart and stubborn pride kept me company as I fled from home, hiding from the problems, sticking my head in the sand. I refused to talk to my husband. He pleaded. When we did speak, it was terse, stiff-lipped. We spent a summer in loaded silence, uncertain of what the next steps would be.

A last bit of insanity

I was on the verge of calling it quits. I was making mental lists of things to do, including finding a place for the kids and I live and a better paying job. I didn’t see how we could come back from the disaster that had become our marriage. I held everything I felt inside under lock and key, buried deep beneath fake smiles and sleepless nights.

One afternoon, as I sat on the front porch steps of a house I had turned into a home, my husband came out and sat beside me. I waited for everything from apologies to declarations of divorce. Instead, he asked me out on a date. In the midst of the insanity, a date was the last thing I expected.

The spark

That date sparked a change in our marriage. It was small, a flicker. We began to attend church again. Not just holidays and random events, but every Sunday. The flicker became a small flame, timid but luminous. In the eye of the hurricane that was my marriage, hope appeared.

One Sunday, I stood during worship next to my husband and I felt it. An uncanny sense of calm, warm and inviting. It started in my heart and radiated throughout my entire body. For the first time, I experienced God. In that moment, I felt loved and free. 1 Peter 5:7 says to “cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you” (NIV). With hands raised in surrender, tears in my eyes, I felt real love.

That small voice

As I tried to compose myself, a small but clear voice whispered, “This is your second chance.” A second chance? But surely, I couldn’t be worthy of a second chance. I didn’t deserve it. I’d made mistakes. I’d lied. I’d sinned. I’m not a good person. Surely, He has better people to spend his time, his attention, his love on!

Grateful for second chances

Here we are seven years later, and our marriage is the total opposite. We get mistaken for newlyweds rather than a couple going on 14 years of marriage. I am grateful for those mistaken impressions. We hold hands and laugh together all the time. I am grateful for the laughter.  We talk to each other via text, at dinner, and curled up at night ending our days. I am grateful for conversations. Everyday my husband tells me he loves me and how grateful he is for me. I am grateful for his love. And the second chance to have that love.

Second chances do not come around often. People tend to hold on to the hurt and do not allow for apologies and changed behavior. I got lucky. My husband gave the story of us a second chance. I am ridiculously grateful for second chances. Even better than that, I am eternally grateful for God’s unwavering love and His willingness to love me in all of my mess that is my life. God deals in grace and mercy. Man, am I grateful for that.

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Begin Within is a series to inspire a year-round lifestyle of gratitude that will impact not only your own life, but the lives of your neighbors as well. Gratitude is a theme we talk about often around here because it ties so closely into other missional living rhythms. Practicing gratitude reminds to keep our hearts soft and expectant and our eyes open. Therefore, the more we embrace gratitude, the easier it becomes to truly see our neighbors and where we can join what God is already doing in our neighborhoods.

If you would like to contribute to Begin Within, you can find the submission guidelines here.

Creating Ripples

If you would like to cultivate rhythms in addition to gratitude that will empower you live on mission in your neighborhood, check out Cultivating a Missional Life: A 30-Day Devotional to Gently Help You Open Your Heart, Home, and Life to Your Neighbors. This small book will help you make a big impact in your neighborhood as you learn to let missional living flow from the inside out. Get the 30-day missional living challenge free when you purchase the book.