Divine

I consciously live in color as it relates to my relationship with my wife. Intentionally dissecting the effort, it takes to love another human being. Regularly our conversations consist of what it takes to make a marriage work when we have never witnessed a successful union. Frequently, we communicate the pain that stains our perspective as we contemplate the route we should take to unhinge our own wills. Often we forgive fully understanding that love is a choice + we don’t always get to decide on how we get to distribute it. It’s eerily complicated! A space only those who dare reside can humbly admit, it’s everything you hoped + nothing like you ever expected.

Sharing a life with someone is a glimpse of your relationship with God. I’m convinced that intimate partnerships are birthed out of recycled trauma with beautifully damaged souls disguised as magnificent masterpieces. I am certain that purpose mates have summoned each other from the residue their parents couldn’t remove carrying the hopes of several generations. I am emphatically clear that when two people decide to share time + space it will be a series of delayed prayers stacked on years of hard work before everyone can truly appreciate the mystery of it all.

Honestly, there is nothing rational about love, the definition doesn’t even do it justice. And marriage juxtaposed against it feels like the scariest decision that has the audacity to be amazing. Truthfully, love is painful sometimes + dispels everything you believe, but somehow it works. Openly, love wins all arguments + proves that God is the coolest person to ever create another person just for you to do this thing called life with.