A good marriage is the union of
two good forgivers. ~ Ruth Bell Graham
If I were writing a book about marriage (and I am: see below), the last chapter would be on forgiveness because that's the only way I am still married after nearly divorcing. The most mature people on earth grapple with ascending this Mt. Everest of human relations, but standing at the summit, with the crystal breeze blowing in my face, I think I can say that, really, to have a just-about-perfect marriage, we only have to master two things: PURE LOVE and FORGIVENESS.
At this precise moment, I am feeling mighty fine about my progress on both counts. The sky is clear, not clouds of the horizon. I feel fairly acclimated to the rarefied atmosphere. As my boots dig into the ice and the flag of truce waves triumphant, it seems my membership in the elite club of Superior Spouses is secure.
At this precise moment, I am feeling mighty fine about my progress on both counts. The sky is clear, not clouds of the horizon. I feel fairly acclimated to the rarefied atmosphere. As my boots dig into the ice and the flag of truce waves triumphant, it seems my membership in the elite club of Superior Spouses is secure.
Then…crrrraaaaacccck.
Thunder rolls out of nowhere, the earth begins to shake, the mountain opens up, and suddenly – I am in a familiar crevasse – not that far actually, from base camp (my wedding day).
I have to choose again. To ascend or not to ascend. To forgive or not to forgive. To repent or not to repent. To love or not to love.
And so does he.
Thankfully, forgiveness is not an emotion; nothing so elusive as that. It’s a choice. And I can make a choice. So, I scrounge through my backpack of mountain-climbing paraphernalia and pull out the three tools that will get me out of here, back into the sunlight.
Accept that he’s not a monster just chomping at the bit to toss me over the edge; in fact, he’s in his own crevasse right now, dreading hypothermia as much as I am.
Put away the ice ax and screws.
This snow bridge may take time and careful testing. Important: get an early start. These slick slopes are easier to cross in the “morning” of - soon after - an incident.
If practice makes perfect, my husband should be a world champion mountaineer by now. We both should. The rumbles and tumbles keep coming, but I think, after 34 years, all in all, we are increasingly expert at reading the weather and side-stepping falling rock; spending less energy crawling out of crevasses, and more time enjoying the summit. Thankfully, we have survived this thing called “marriage”: unquestionably the most daring undertaking in the human experience, because we refused to be buried alive by our avalanches of pride.
So, fellow adventurers: no need to fear! Though you may not always like being tied to the same rope as your partner, as long as it’s a line fixed on conquering together, anchored in forgiveness, you can avoid the hazards and minimize the risks.
And believe me – it’s all worth it. The view IS SPECTACULAR!
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Mona, who was nearly divorced thirty plus years ago, is now mounting a crusade to mentor and inspire wives, particularly young wives, to create a lifelong marriage that S.P.A.R.K.L.E.'s. You can learn more about S.P.A.R.L.K.L.E. in book WIFE FOR LIFE: THE POWER TO SUCCEED IN MARRIAGE, which will soon be available at a Mona's brand new site. To find out more and be the first to read WIFE FOR LIFE when it's launched, go now to Mona's Musings on Facebook.
