Tag Archives: marriage

P.S. I Love You

wedding

It’s hard to fathom that we’ve reached a milestone. Come April 6th, we have been married for twenty amazing years.

From the beginning, I knew I could rely on you. For the first time, I didn’t have to face my struggles alone. When you vowed to become my soulmate, you stood up to the plate in becoming a loving and endearing daddy to my children. Although the roads have been bumpy, the ride has been exhilarating.

The route may not always be smooth, but the pathway is attainable because of your steadfastness. With every twist and turn, I find strength as I learn to lean on your shoulders. In your arms, there is a shelter in the midst of the rainstorms and warmth from the frigid winds.

You believed in me before I believed in myself. I am not afraid to be me when I am with you. Your laughter is music to my ears. When I look at you, I see the love in your eyes still twinkling … for me.

I want to thank you, babe, for all the years by my side. I pray that God grants us many more. I appreciate you, admire you, and love you more today than I did yesterday. I thank God for making us one, knowing that together we will weather the storms.

Your soothing voice calms my fears; your gentle touch chases away my tears.
Your strength is my abiding force; your soothing words are my guiding source.

© M.A. Perez 2014, All Rights Reserved

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April 4, 2014 · 5:00 AM

This Language On Love

 

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So, in reading “The 5 Love Languages” by Gary Chapman, he describes in great detail how the concept of love can be very confusing. We love activities, objects, animals, nature, and people. We even fall in love with love. He points out that we use love to explain behavior. “‘I did it because I love her,’ says a man who is involved in an adulterous relationship. God calls it sin, but he calls it love. The wife of an alcoholic picks up the pieces after her husband’s latest episode. The psychologist calls it co-dependency, but she calls it love. The parent indulges all the child’s wishes. The family therapist calls it irresponsible parenthood, but the parent calls it love.”

Now I’m not by any means of the imagination, a psychologist, a professor, a clergywoman, or a counselor. I am just an ordinary woman. I’m a girlfriend, a daughter, a cousin, a sister, a wife, a mother, an aunt, and a grandmother. But like many, I think we all too often speak the wrong love language. I definitely have.

In my youth, I did some stupid things out of “love” for a guy. And because I loved him, I thought, surely he will come to my way of thinking. He would love me in return, enough to change his behavior and better himself. After all, hadn’t I bent over backward for him? Worshipped the ground he walked on? Become his doormat? In order to gain his undivided attention, I forgot who I was.

In my teens, I covered my husband’s transgressions. I hid his secret, sin, and shame. My way of thinking was: This is why I exist, right? That’s my job, isn’t it? His wish was my command. Barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen – if only I knew how to cook then. My smile hid the pain in my heart, as well as makeup hid the bruises on my face. I hid the grocery money and emptied the liquor bottles, refilling half with water, hoping he’d never notice. I’d called his boss to say he was sick in bed after another blackout episode. I told myself: I protect my interests. I do it all in the name of “love.”

I was tired. But because I loved my children, I eventually allowed them the freedom of choice. They started listening to the “hip” music their friends were listening to, and watched certain movies. Oh, yes, I knew they were old enough and wise enough not to repeat negative behaviors. Yes, I was inconsistent, worn-out, and haggard. I practiced tough love, church activities, rules, and schedules, but then lost the victory in my own personal life and tossed responsibility to the wind. I got lazy. It became every person for himself. I started doing my own thing. I felt defeated. Cold-hearted. Bitter. Since I had lost the battle as a wife, for a moment, I had also forgotten that there was still a war to fight for: motherhood.

That was many moons ago. And I’m happy to say, although far from perfect, I continue to strive to communicate this language in a healthier way.

Just some rambling thoughts today, as I reflect on Gary Chapman’s point of view about the language of love.

What are your thoughts?

© M.A. Perez 2013, All Rights Reserved

8 Comments

Filed under Gary Chapman, Love Language

“Mrs. C”

We affectionately call her Mrs. C.

In her sixties, with remarkable zeal, she carried a charismatic and gregarious personality. She was a Bible teacher, an author, a missionary, a powerhouse, and a woman of great faith. She exuded genuine friendship in a Godly persona and took me under her wings. She held many prayer meetings in her home and often prostrated herself on the floor, face down, interceding for others. She became my lifesaver, my spiritual mother. Throughout the years, I frequently relied on her for spiritual guidance and much-needed counsel.

On one dreary afternoon, the sky grew overcast along with my hope and faith. Suffering from battle fatigue, I sat in Mrs. C’s den. I told her I was sick and tired of being sick and tired.

“I can’t take it anymore,” I confessed, wringing my hands.

Patiently, unassuming, and non-judgmental, Mrs. C handed me a tissue and gave me time to release the dread and pain in my heart.

“I’ve tried everything. Done all I know to do. Yet nothing seems good enough.”

“Has he stopped hitting you?”

I sighed, much relieved that he had. “Oh, yes.”

“Mary Ann, in his own way, you know he loves you,” she began, “but you have become ‘weary in well-doing.’ In your mind’s eye, you’ve conceded it’s not worth it.”

She honed in on my sentiments. I hung my head in shame.

“You know,” she insisted, “it is worth it all.”

At that moment, I wished I were stronger and smarter, and Mrs. C wasn’t so wise and read me so well. “But shouldn’t this be a two-way street?” I suggested.

“Are you and the kids better off without him?”

I figured she knew the answer before I did. “We . . . we have nowhere else to go.”

“Are you better off without him?” she repeated, handing me the tissue box.

“Money is tight. I can’t afford to do anything else.”

“Are you better off without him?”

No,” I whispered and wiped my nose.

I felt weak and inadequate as a Christian wife, struggling to maintain a measure of peace and sanity in my household with four children and tending to a man struggling with his demons.

“Then, go home and be the best wife and mother you know how to be,” she said.

Sometimes, it’s easier to talk the talk than to walk the walk.

“But first,” she added, “I want to pray for you.”

That woman knew how to enter the Throne Room of God in her prayers. Electricity surged through my entire body when she touched me while praying. Before I left, she handed me her book, Wives, Unequally Yoked. I figured reading couldn’t hurt, plus the title intrigued me. I’d already devoured The Total Woman, by Marabel Morgan. The pages were worn and underlined with a yellow marker, much like my own Bible.

“PRAY HARDEST WHEN IT’S HARDEST TO PRAY”

I didn’t leave Mrs. C’s company the same way I arrived. Resolved in my heart not to become bitter, I determined to be better and left strengthened, with a made-up mind.

Mrs. C suggested that I study a passage in the Bible that read: “In the same way, you wives, be submissive to your own husbands so that even if any of them are disobedient to the Word, they may be won without a word by the behavior of their wives, as they observe your chaste and respectful behavior.”

I had to admit this wasn’t easy. I’d used my tongue as a weapon more times than I cared to count, and didn’t know if I could keep my mouth shut. But with renewed determination, I worked on dropping the holier-than-thou attitude and praying for my husband more. This time, I prayed–not that my life might become easier–but that he might become whole: physically, spiritually, and emotionally.

Note: Has anyone outside of your family meant the world to you? Made an impact? Enriched your life?

Throughout the years, many have come into my life, for which I am eternally grateful. Mrs. C recently celebrated her 87th birthday. Although not as active as once before, Mrs. C has touched and helped countless lives that are still going strong today. Because of her, many have realized their true potential and reached their purpose.

Michael C. Dudash

Painting by Michael C. Dudash

© M.A. Perez 2013, All Rights Reserved

3 Comments

October 6, 2013 · 12:51 PM

For Keeps

ImageToday is our anniversary.

Nineteen years ago, I said “I do” to the most loving and gentle man I know.

And I’m so glad I did.

He came into my world when I was a desperate, single mother of four: ages nine, eleven, twelve, and fourteen. He not only loved me then, but he loved and embraced my children. And they loved him back.

Today, as I fixate on my husband’s face—his eyes weathered by deep trenches of experience, his hair and beard more gray than brown—a sense of contentment warms me. His gaze still carries the familiar twinkle. They speak of tenderness, honesty, and devotion. His eyes say I am a star in his galaxy, and that he will remain by my side through thick and thin. They confirm that together we are one. Moreover, those eyes proclaim that with God, we can weather any storm.

I hadn’t always known this gentleness and steadfastness in a mate. But this one was my second chance at love and happiness, assuring me that my mate and true friend accepts me unconditionally and without reservation. He loves me on my worst days. He loves me on my best days. I don’t feel alone if he’s away.

Yes, we have faced scores of satisfactions and disappointments, victories and losses, accomplishments and failures, heartaches and joys. Some we understand. Some we don’t. But God gives us grace and peace that exceeds our comprehension.

And life moves on.

© M.A. Perez, 2013, All Rights Reserved

“He’s not perfect. You aren’t either, and the two of you will never be perfect. But if he can make you laugh at least once, causes you to think twice, and if he admits to being human and making mistakes, hold onto him and give him the most you can. He isn’t going to quote poetry, he’s not thinking about you every moment, but he will give you a part of him that he knows you could break. Don’t hurt him, don’t change him, and don’t expect more than he can give. Don’t analyze. Smile when he makes you happy, yell when he makes you mad, and miss him when he’s not there. Love is hard when there is love to be had. Because perfect guys don’t exist, but there’s always one guy that is perfect for you.”
~ Bob Marley

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Filed under Personal, Wedding Anniversary