It’s good to remember we’ve both made mistakes.
Everyone needs a second (or tenth or twentieth) chance.
We’ve all needed to ask forgiveness.
And give forgiveness.
We’ve been told love will conquer all.
But some of life’s stuff can mess up our best intentions.
We had to admit we both failed.
A rift had grown between us like a gaping, impassable chasm.
We were both hurting.
The temptation was to forget the promises.
The vows of ‘til death do us part.
To look for an easy way out.
(Not that divorce or separation are easy. But when you’re in the crisis, you forget that.)
It was tempting to think it was all his fault.
Our hearts were broken.
The choice was there.
Leave. Or stay.
And if he stayed, what then?
It’s easy to see the other person’s faults and flaws.
To cast blame.
He’s the one who…
She’s the one who hasn’t…
To let those things become the sole focus.
To concentrate on the hurt, bitterness, and the unfairness.
Until there’s nothing else left.
We all get lonely.
Jealous or short-tempered.
A feeling of loss can overtake us.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
We don’t know what to do. Or who to talk to.
But for things to get better, one person has to be willing to take the first step and be humble.
To be willing to say, “I’m sorry,” or “Let’s try again,” or “I love you. I never meant to hurt you.”
Sometimes in a marriage storm, one person has wronged the other.
Hurts are great.
The person who has done the wrong needs to be humble.
To open the dialogue.
And to explain with a heart of caring.
Other times, both have said or done things they need to express remorse over.
Being humble is an attitude.
It’s the opposite of pride.
It’s saying, we are both broken.
I failed. I did, or said, or thought things that hurt you.
I’m so sorry.
Being humble can be painful.
It’s opening the door on our problems, or wounds, or sin.
But it’s a brave thing to do.
It’s a spouse saying, “We are worth whatever it takes to face our problem. To weather our storm. To fix the brokenness.”
It’s making a decision.
Recognizing we are in this marriage together.
It’s taking a giant step toward healing.
When we came to the point where we could have split up, we made a decision.
Instead of separating, we were going to cling.
Him and me.
‘Til death do us part.
Not just for the kids.
It was awkward at first.
With painful conversations.
It took intentionality.
And spending time together like we hadn’t in a long time.
It took both of us being humble.
Mary Hanks writes inspirational Christian fiction about couples finding their way back to grace and each other.
Note from the author: I’m not a counselor. I’m just a girl with a mended heart who’s weathered a few of life’s storms.