We have two canvas portraits from our wedding day hanging in our bedroom. Thankfully, my oldest son sees them and points to say “mommy” as he looks at my picture. I am thankful, because I barely recognize myself.
So I dared myself. The boys were both napping; my husband was at work. It was as if I accepted a challenge I both wanted and dreaded with each step closer.
Up the stairs, passed the couch and our son’s new train table. A picture that reminds us “How beautiful the marriage of two Christians” hangs on the wall. I reached the back room, opened the closet doors, and my eyes could not look away. I tip toed closer and pulled out the big, pink plastic that covered the once bright, sparkly gown.
It was five years ago up on a mountaintop in East Tennessee when I stepped into the dress last. The autumn day was bright and glowing much like this one. I was filled with excitement, breathing in God’s goodness with joyful anticipation.
I pause and thank God for our marriage that has grown even more beautiful than that heavenly day. Even when the trash cans couldn’t hold all the tissues from crying eyes and babies were sick and sleep was a luxury, we were in it together. We are in it, together.
About a week ago, we popped in our wedding DVD and reminisced together. We held hands, and I watched the bliss before us. My brother-in-law officiated the ceremony, and he spoke of our covenant, our responsibilities and us one day having these very children who now sit in our laps. I can recall no better “date night” to stir our hearts.
So today, five years and two baby boys later, I attempted to “try it back on.”
This time, I was all alone. It was quiet and the room dark. Yet, as I pulled up the dress and loosely tied the back, I felt bright again. The fabric is much more faded, but it still sparkles.
I sit down on the couch, and I am thankful. I remember whose bride I am.
My husband is my partner, provider, encourager, my rock. He forgives, he encourages; he loves; he makes me better.
Still, I know who loves me even more.
Ephesians tells us:
Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself for her, that He might sanctify and cleanse her with the washing of water by the word, that He might present her to Himself a glorious church, not having spot or wrinkle or any such thing, but that she should be holy and without blemish. So husbands ought to love their own wives as their own bodies; he who loves his wife loves himself.”
Jesus loves me. He chose me.
Even though my dress is more dingy and doesn’t fit like it did, I am beautiful and without blemish. Because of Jesus.
As I prepare for supper tonight, I will put on some lipstick. I will kiss the man God gave me to share this journey, and I will feel pretty. I will sparkle.
Not because of who i am. But because of who He is. A divine romance.
Divine Romance – Phil Wickham
The fullness of Your grace is here with me
The richness of Your beauty’s all I see
The brightness of Your glory has arrived
In Your presence, God, I’m completely satisfied
For You, I sing, I dance
Rejoice in this divine romance
Lift my heart and my hands
To show my love, to show my love
A deep, deep flood, an ocean flows from You
Of deep, deep love, yeah, it’s filling up the room
Your innocent blood has washed my guilty life
In Your presence, God, I’m completely satisfied
For You, I sing, I dance
Rejoice in this divine romance
Lift my heart and my hands
To show my love, to show my love.
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