Washing His Feet

baby-10Michael and I were married when we were young. Very young. Just a few days past my twentieth birthday, young.

I have no regrets. We were crazy about each other. Still are. We were totally blinded to the reality of life. Love will do that to you. We truly believed that life was good as long as we had each other. And it has been.

Our ceremony was simple and sweet. We said our vows at sunset, in candle light. He washed my feet. I washed his. Little did I know then, how that simple act was going to be repeated a million times over in our marriage. Not literally, ( although we have from time to time ) , but in the sense of serving each other, and putting each other’s needs before our own.

Marriage isn’t always easy. Sometimes it is just plain hard. Especially when you do a lot of “growing up ” together. Three kids under five years old, and two international moves are intense. I am sure the walls of our old house can tell you a story or two .  However, our commitment to “washing each other’s feet”  has been the core of our marriage. It is what makes us humble, and keeps our marriage strong. It is what chases away angry words in the middle of the night, and closes any space between us. It is what makes empty bank accounts rich, and failed dreams bearable.

The younger version of me used to think that love was all romance and flowers. Sweet notes left on pillowcases, and passionate kisses.

But all that is just the icing on the cake. I know better now.

Washing His Feet is Love. 

When I said, “I do. ” that night ten years ago, I was so confident that I could never love another human being more.

I was wrong. 

I love him more today that I ever did back then.

Happy Valentines Day Sweetie.

xoxoxo

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