“How do you like your grilled cheese? Crispy? Gooey?” It is culinarily pitiful that I had to ask my husband of fourteen years this question tonight. It’s literarily pitiful that the quoted question is now in a blog post. It’s just plain frightening that I make up words. Just work with me here, people.
So you’re stuck on the why-were-we-having-fancy-grilled-cheese-for-supper part? It’s complicated. Don’t judge me. Well, you can if you need to.
Tell me it’s not a beautiful thing the way you keep discovering your spouse. Tell me. There is still so much I don’t know about this man of mine. It will take a lifetime. And I still won’t know him. Marriage is many things, but never ever dull. I may be dull as all get out. (Don’t comment on that.) But not my marriage. Not the being married part. It is ferociously alive with struggle, hope, pain, and promise. It feels good to be alive.
“Everyone looked so bored,” my son recently observed after visiting a church. Astute, that kid. Church services may very well be boring. Worship may be boring. I can only conclude we are boring – because God, sweet people, is not boring. Red Sea parting. Manna. Betrayal. Temptation. Love. Murder. Miracles. Adultery. Walking on water. Flood. Feasts. Spirit. Sex. Judges. Jericho. Wars. Politics. Covenant. Blood. More blood. Lots of blood.
Look at God’s people. He calls the boring messed-up lot of us His bride. Would you want to marry us? We are covenanted with a God who can’t fully be grasped. He doesn’t sleep. He gives up his kid. He knows the end from the beginning. He desires us. His love is violent. Who is this God?
I’m full of questions for Him. Some of them are real doozies, I tell you. He can take it. It will take a lifetime. It should take a lifetime. I pray it takes a lifetime.
Look over at that love of yours. Even if you are bored. Even if you are boring. I mean look. Look at the space between you. You see the past. You see promise. You see a mystery. You see God. No? Look harder. Squint if you need to.