When I was younger life seemed to move slow.
People would say “the older you get, the faster life moves.” That was 15 plus years ago now—and they were right. Years have gone by quickly, and much has happened.
My wife and I, in these recent days, have reminisced on our early dating days and our first couple of years of marriage—and we’ve wept. Those were days when things just seemed easier, when no huge trials were blowing through. Days that now almost feel like a lifetime ago.
Trials and storms have blown through. Sometimes I’ve responded well—sometimes I’ve responded poorly, compounding the difficulty of the particular trial or storm. Over time, it all adds up, and in many moments I’ve felt like quitting.
For about two years I watched my wife battle chronic pain, wanting so badly to take it away from her, but was unable to. I prayed through the night several times, pacing the bedroom floor into the early morning hours, asking God to release healing in her body.
I then held her when her heart collapsed at the sudden news of her father’s death, and our world’s seemed to spin out of control.
When the woman I love breaks, in body or in heart, I break too.