Someone (and I really don’t remember who) once told me, “you should date your future spouse for a full 365 days before you propose so you get to see them in every season of the year.” For some reason I always found that to be such a simple yet strangely profound statement.
I dated Jen for longer than a year before I proposed but I have to say I’ve been more in tune to how our relationship relates to the seasons now that we’re married than when we were dating.
It’s raining here in north Texas this morning. It’s quiet and it’s really really cold. Dallas makes it rather hard to get in a rhythm with the weather. Last week it was 80 and we rode bikes and played tennis and now, it’s supposed to snow tomorrow.
It’s much the same with our marriage sometimes. One day it’s 80 and sunny, the next it’s 20 below and icy all over. And sometimes I feel as helpless to shape and change that as I am to shape and change the weather.
In Job 38 God says “Have you entered the storehouses of the snow, or have you seen the storehouses of the hail, which I have reserved for the time of trouble, for the day of battle and war? What is the way to the place where the light is distributed, or where the east wind is scattered upon the earth? Who has cleft a channel for the torrents of rain and a way for the thunderbolt…”
No I haven’t, I don’t know, and not me. In that order.
I don’t know why it’s sunny when it is or why it rains when it does, I really have no clue. I trust that the Lord holds those things in His hands, and he does. I trust, too, that when I fail to understand marriage or my wife and when I flail about emotionally or as a leader that He still holds that in His hands too.
For every season a beginning and every season an end, God will see each through and to each he tends.
What I listened to while I wrote this: Your Hand in Mine