Recognition

A week or so ago, something very small happened, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it.

It was just an ordinary day, and we were home doing ordinary things about the house. And Peter said or did something. And it was just something small - so much so that the actual substance of the word or action slipped from my mind before even a few minutes passed. But I remember that it made me feel loved and loved in a very specific way.

This has not been an easy year for us. It is easier now than it was just a few months ago, but still, I often reach the end of a day feeling empty and weary - feeling as if I have battled for every good thing and feeling, in my bones, that that same battle will be waiting for me tomorrow. And Pete has worked hard to love me well during this time. I know it. I've seen it. And when he did whatever small thing it was that he did a week or so ago, it made me feel loved, and it made me think about this specific love he has shown me - this love that is patient, and gentle, and soft-spoken, and long-suffering - this staunch, sturdy love that is ever-present and also, quiet, undemanding, agenda-less. And I thought about all this love a bit absently as I sorted mail, or stacked dishes, or whatever it was I was doing that day, until I became aware of some little mental pinging in my brain, growing louder until it brought me up short. It was a strong sense of recognition or remembering - an acute feeling of, "Wait, I know this... I've felt this way before...what does this remind me of?"

And it clicked, and I remembered, and I recognized:

Jesus. This love reminds me of Jesus.

I know this love, I recognize this love, because it's the same Love that comforted me as a child. It's the same Love that hunkered down with me at the bottom of a pit of depression, and then, when I was ready, took my hand and pulled me out. It's the same Love that shouldered my pain in an apartment bathroom on an early July morning. And it's the same Love that has walked with me since, whispering, "Courage!" in my ear during all the heart-breaking moments of this year. It is not a generic love - it is specific, it is recognizable, it has a face, and once you have really encountered it, you do not forget.

So. I just want to say to you, husband, whenever it is that you read this blog, that even when I'm not looking for it or thinking of it, you remind me of Jesus.

And that is no small thing.