On Wednesday night, you found some information about 365 Acts of Love on our computer. “What’s this?” you asked. I didn’t know what to say. My heart started pounding, my hands started sweating, and my face felt hot. I wasn’t about to lie and I didn’t think you’d be satisfied if I told you that you needed to wait to see. Then, your eyes started tearing up because you were confused about what was happening. So, I told you about the blog, though I was short on details. When I finished, you said that you didn’t want to know anything else and that you didn’t want to see the blog until it was finished because you wanted to be surprised. For the rest of the night, I was shaking slightly and sick to my stomach, even while feeling a sense of relief. At this point, I’m planning on not speaking with you about the blog until I present it to you six months from now.
I’ve caused you much pain in the course of our marriage, whether intentionally or not. My tongue is one of my primary instruments in this regard. Sometimes I say something careless and it causes you pain. Sometimes I say something mean, whether premeditated or not, in order to cause you pain. And a few times in our marriage, I’ve said things so hurtful to you that, even now, I bow my head in shame as I consider them.
Last night, I sat you down and listed these and other sins I’ve committed against you and asked for your forgiveness. You forgave me. I then asked you whether you could think of anything else for which I needed to ask for your forgiveness. You couldn’t. But you brought up some wrongs you’ve committed against me and asked me to forgive you. I forgave you. When we finished, I laid my head on your lap as you sat on the couch, and I fell asleep. I don’t know whether our forgiveness talk had anything to do with this, but my sleep was deep and it was sweet.
Last night I planned on listening to a sermon with you on the Song of Solomon. I thought it would be good for us to reflect on healthy intimacy. You liked the idea, but said you were just too tired. So instead, we watched the pilot of Once Upon a Time while snuggling and holding hands. Instead of listening to a sermon on intimacy, we practiced intimacy.
For my second and third prayer sessions on my day of fast (see day 34), I confessed and repented of my marital failings. Here’s an inkling of those failings. While God never changes, I constantly flip back and forth between putting myself first and putting you first. Lord have mercy on me. While God is wise and his word is truth, I often go against sound judgment and I’ve even lied to you before. Lord have mercy on me. God is full of love, grace, and goodness; I fall prey to selfishness and lust, I keep a record of the wrongs you’ve committed against me, and I’m often just plain evil to you. Lord have mercy on me. I often think of our marriage simply as an end in itself, rather than something that God can use for his glory. What’s worse, I typically seek my own glory (I want praise for what I do!), not God’s; accordingly, I serve myself rather than you. Save me from my heart, O God! I confessed to God these and many of my other sinful acts and dispositions and asked him to pour on me his mercy and grace.
Thank you, God, for loving a wretched man like me! Once upon a time I was lost. You chased me down. You transformed my heart. Now, I am found, having being adopted into your family. In spite of this, I’m inclined to my wretched ways. May you turn my heart more and more toward you. And as a result, may I love her as you love me.