Rain soaked and bone weary after eighteen hours of flying, I dissolved into tears when he asked the question. Of course I meant to say yes, but my worn out body and strung out mind could string the letters into words. We had a whirlwind engagement. Eight short weeks from ring on finger to the ring of wedding bells.
We were practically strangers.
We had no business getting married.
Just a month before our second anniversary we barely made it to the hospital before we were staring at each other with scared eyes and tightly gripping hands. Was this really happening? A baby? And then there she was, small and wiggling, and us, no less clueless than we had been just hours before.
We had no business being parents.
Our fuses worn short from strain we stayed up red-eyed. Our sentences cut with the ferocity of insecurity. These two brown eyed boys. Thousands of miles away from home, trying to make a family. Trying to find healing in the hopeless ground of unsure.
We had no business with adoption.
Someone once told me that marriage was really just a business contract, and that if I didn't believe that then just get divorced.
And we certainly had no business with marriage.
But there we found ourselves standing before an alter with plenty of reason to believe this might not work.
And here we find ourselves eight years later. A mess of kids, a mess of hopes, and a mess of a life. But it's life we are living together.
Marriage can't really be a business; it can't be clear cut with each party fulfilling a meticulous list of duties and paying their due. It has the pulse of life in it. It breathes and moves and changes. It must be endured and enjoyed.
Marriage is really a mystery. It transcends.
This is a great mystery, but I speak concerning Christ and the church.
It requires daily solving. It asks for our full faith every single day. This is a mystery that asks for all the love we have and when we give it, that love explosively multiplies. It turns the mundane into the sacred. It turns strangers into family.
Because we may have had no business, but we are mysteriously sitting here holding hands when we don't have to. By some miracle we still steal kisses when no one is looking, or when everyone is, who cares?
Eight years, it can feel small in the scheme of things. But on this eight years it's worth celebrating a little bit of mystery.