Messy Beautiful Love (15 page)

Mrs. Spear was the first person I met. Her thin stature, sharp features, and horn-rimmed glasses told me that she was about 125 years old. Crooked finger pointing toward an empty desk, she motioned me to take a seat near the front of the class.

To my right side was a chubby brunette named Debbie, who spent most days behind her inhaler. She had asthma—nothing
more—but since I didn’t know much about the disease, it terrified me. I wondered how she got in bed at night and if her parents carried her through the house to eat meals and take baths. Surely she didn’t walk on her own.

To my left was a skinny little girl named Woodrow, who was barely wider than a teaspoon. Turning in her chair, Woodrow peered over thick lenses, watching as I took my seat. Her brown hair was tousled about like she had slept on it wet. Her face was pale, her eyes were dark, and her lips were licorice red. She didn’t smile much—at least not that day.

Looking down at my desk, I could sense that the other kids were staring at me, too, and while I felt the heat rise in my face, I wondered whether they’d figure out just how scared I was. I had left my friends and the only school I had ever known behind. Everything was new to me: the house, the children, the teachers. I wondered how long it would take until things felt like
home
again.

“Pull out your crayons,” Mrs. Spear said, drawing attention to the front of the class. “Danny, can you pass out these papers?”

Reaching into my desk, I pulled out an eight-pack of crayons and waited while Danny passed me a paper. I’d later come to know him as Danny Hart, the boy whose challenge was to make me as miserable as he possibly could for the next eight years. The only upside was that his name rhymed with
fart
, and the other kids never let him forget it.

Just as I was about to start coloring, I noticed Woodrow. She was holding the fattest crayon I’d ever seen in my life, and all I could think of was that the crayon was almost as thick as her arm. With elbows out and chin held close to the page, she started coloring, unaware of the fact that I thought that she was a curious girl.

After more coloring, a few stories, and an interesting song about whooping cough, the lunch bell finally rang. Unlike my last school where we had a cloakroom at the back of the class, the kids hustled into the hallway to pick up their jackets and boots. I followed suit.

It’s funny how you can stand in a crowded room full of people and still feel alone, isn’t it? Children were flooding into the hallway, and I stood there alone. Not one face familiar to me. Not one friend to talk with.

My stomach was growling, and I got to wondering what Mom would be making for lunch. It was always a surprise, and it was
always
something good. Whether it was pizza on a bun, tomato and macaroni soup, or chicken noodle soup and bologna sandwiches, I was pleasantly surprised every time.

Just then I felt a tap on my back. “Hi,” a cheerful tone caught my attention, “I’m Margo.”

I turned around to see a blonde girl with a pixie-cut hairdo, a small mouth, and sparkling blue eyes. “Do you want to be my best friend?” she asked.

I had never met this girl before, hadn’t even noticed her
sitting in class, but I was thrilled at the opportunity of having a new friend. Not just any new friend—a “best” friend.

It happened much sooner than I imagined it would, but standing in that hallway of my new school, I felt like I was finally
home
. Someone in this world noticed me and cared enough to reach out a hand of friendship that told me I wasn’t alone.

For the next six years Margo and I were inseparable. Attached at the hip, we spent every day hanging out. Whether we were having lunch at school, running through the riverbanks, or enjoying hot days at the pool, we were closer than two friends could be. We spent time together, we kept each other’s secrets, and we had each other’s back.

Have you ever had a close friend like that? One that you could confide in, run to, and laugh with? If you’re a woman, my guess is that you probably have at some point in your life, and you just might have one now. There’s nothing quite like it, is there? That kind of friend doesn’t come around every day, and when he or she does, you just know it’s a
God
thing.

The blessings of having a best friend are many:

• He has your back.

• He is there when you run to him with your ups and your downs.

• He reminds you that you’re wanted and loved.

• He knows how to cheer you up when you’re down.

• He can make you laugh like no one else can.

• He is honest with you in a gentle and compassionate way.

• He can be trusted with your emotions.

• He allows you to be yourself.

• He is a personal cheerleader who wants the best for you.

• He encourages your personal growth.

I’ve had a few best friends over the course of my lifetime—friends who have made me laugh until I cried, friends I’ve made long-lasting memories with, and friends I could count on to encourage me when life got me down. They were definitely in my corner and reminded me how much I was loved. But I have to tell you, none of them will ever compare to Michael.

A best friend is a God thing, especially when that best friend is your husband. Friendship is the jelly in the sandwich of marriage. It holds you together on the days when life pulls the plate out from under you. I’ve had a few days like that. I think we all have. You know those days when all you want to do is stay in bed and pull the covers up over your head? Yeah, me too. When times of stress hit me, I quietly slip away, sneak up to my bedroom, and crawl under the covers. I find a sense of comfort there. A blanket is my shield from the world.

After all these years, Michael’s gotten to know me well enough to detect when I’m upset or when I’m just taking a nap. Not two minutes after I crawl into bed, I hear the squeak of the door hinge followed by the shuffle of footsteps. “Okay,” he’ll say, sitting on the edge of the bed. “What’s up?”

My standard response is usually, “I don’t know,” while I sink deeper into the blankets.

And then he’ll gently pull the blanket back and encourage me to connect. “C’mon, I’m not leaving until we talk about what’s going on.”

A good friend finds you in the dark and carries you back to the light. At least that’s what Michael does again and again. He’s not only there when I seek him; he pursues me when I need him the most.

There are many ways to capture the heart of your husband, but if you want to capture his heart for a lifetime, work on being his
friend
. Be that person who makes him laugh and cheers him on. Assure him that he can trust his heart with you, and remind him how much you love him.

Let’s look a little closer at love and friendship:
“
The aged women likewise, that they be in behaviour as becometh holiness, not false accusers, not given to much wine, teachers of good things; that they may teach the young women to be sober, to love their husbands, to love their children” (Titus 2:3–4). In the phrase “to love their husbands” the Greek word for “love” is
phileo
, meaning to be friends or to be friendly to someone.

The English language is complicated, and it is sometimes confusing for those of us who are English speakers. I can’t imagine the confusion that it must cause those who speak other languages and are trying to learn it. For example, we have one word for love: I can love my husband and love a cheeseburger at
the same time. The Greeks, on the other hand, have more clarity in their language. When they’re talking about love, they spell it out clearly using one of several words. Here are four of them:

Agape
is sacrificial love, like the one we read about in 1 Corinthians 13.

Eros
is passionate love, the kind that makes your heart race.

Phileo
is friendship or affection.

Storge
is affection, usually within family relationships.

While a good marriage should have all four of these characteristics of love working together, the one that’s at the heartbeat of marriage is
phileo—
friendship.

Remember that marriage is a reflection of the covenant between Jesus Christ and the church, and what He wants from the church, aside from our obedience to His Word, is our
fellowship
. He referred to believers as His friends (John 15), and He also said, “Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me” (Rev. 3:20).

What do we see happening in the church today? In too many cases people attend service on Sundays, pay their tithes, and do their best not to swear, but they don’t have a personal
relationship
with the Lord. I’m not judging their hearts. All I am saying is that there’s a priceless relationship that shouldn’t
be overlooked. When Michael pursues me—when he finds me in the dark and carries me back to the light—he reflects the love of our Savior, who desires to be our most intimate friend.

When He’s nothing but a ticket to heaven or a “Get Out of Hell Free” card, the element of friendship is lost. Sure, a level of sacrifice might be taking place, but in many cases,
friendship
with God is nonexistent.

In the same way, we see housewives who cook, clean, keep their whites white, and drive kids to soccer on Saturdays, but they’ve forgotten what it is like to be friends with their husbands.

When God created Adam, He saw that man was alone. Adam needed someone to spend time with, someone he could confide in, someone he could laugh with, someone who was loyal to him, someone who would value him, and someone who would show him affection. God saw that he needed a companion and friend. God created Eve to be Adam’s helper, but she was also God’s gift of friendship to man, just as we are gifts of friendship to our husbands.

We find another kind of friendship in Scripture described in the story of David and Jonathan. They were holy men devoted to serving God, and their lives provide an incredible testimony of friendship and loyalty. Their souls were knit together as one (1 Sam. 18:1). It doesn’t get much better than that, does it?

But here’s the thing: the beauty of their friendship wasn’t
based on their going to football games together or shooting the breeze at Starbucks. All that is fun, and they probably did have some guy time, but what speaks to us most about Jonathan is that he had David’s back. He was loyal.

Just to give you a little background, the complete story is in 1 Samuel 18–23. After David was anointed to be the next king, King Saul took him into his household, made him a commander of the army, and gave him a daughter in marriage. Yet jealousy and anger so overtook Saul that he was desperate to have David killed. He attempted it several times, but each time David escaped.

With the help of Jonathan, the king’s own son, David fled to the wilderness and went into hiding. Their parting words were, “May the L
ORD
be between you and me, and between your descendants and my descendants, forever” (1 Sam. 20:42
NKJV
).

Although Jonathan was the son of a king, he lived in submission to David. He was aware of and obedient to the fact that David was an anointed servant of the Lord. When he humbled himself by turning away from his own family to protect David’s life, he was giving up any chance at being established as the next king. Nevertheless, Jonathan wanted the best for his friend. Their friendship was sealed with a covenant that was to be kept between them and their descendants forever.

This story illustrates that true friendship is not self-seeking. If we want to strengthen the bond, we must be willing to give up our desires for the good of another.

I’ve heard it said, “I love my husband, but I don’t like him.” Although that might sound like a deep thought with philosophical meaning, it makes me shake my head and say, “Okay—what?” It’s kind of like saying she’s pregnant, but she’s not. The two don’t mix. If you really love something, you won’t have any problem saying that you like it, and you won’t have any problem telling the world just how much. What she might really be trying to say is, “I love my husband, but our friendship has faded away.” Maybe the two have drifted apart. That would make sense.

The truth is that many couples have forgotten how to be friends over time. They don’t even know what that relationship looks like anymore. And the sad thing is, they don’t know how to bring it back. The idea is to start working on
your
heart before you attempt to change
his
. Think about a good friend you’ve had over the years, and list the qualities that defined your friendship. What made that friendship strong? What set it apart? If you want to rekindle your friendship, start working on those particular areas first. In other words, start
being
that friend. Then brick by brick, rebuild that friendship.

Take it from someone who’s been there. You can build that friendship again, perhaps even stronger. Friendship doesn’t happen by accident. You don’t find yourself holding hands after twenty-five years with the one who you love by pure chance. Love is deliberate, it’s intentional, it’s purposeful,
and in the end it’s worth every minute that you give of yourself to another.

Marriage is a thousand little things. It’s giving up your right to be
right
in the heat of an argument. It’s forgiving another when he lets you down. It’s loving someone enough to step down so he can shine. It’s friendship. It’s being a cheerleader and trusted confidante. It’s a place of forgiveness that welcomes one home and arms he can run to in the midst of a storm. It’s grace.

It’s giving of yourself tirelessly down paths you never imagined you would travel. Through sickness and pain, poverty and loss, it’s carrying the weight of another. It’s being the smile he sees in the morning and the body he holds close at night. It’s pure love. It’s standing together in the face of adversity. It’s riding alongside each other in a battle that threatens to tear down your marriage and seeks to grab hold of your faith. It’s strength under pressure.

It’s listening to the heart of another and understanding his pain. It’s offering words of encouragement when he needs them most. It’s walking hand in hand in the park and kissing gently in the pouring rain. It’s laughing together.