It has often seemed to me that marriage is a picture of God's redemption for us. This is not a new or novel or original idea, of course. I think I am in good company here with the Biblical authors. A godly spouse covers and confronts our sin, and calls us to be what we have little confidence we can be. This is a little earthly picture of what God is accomplishing in us in an eternal way.
Recently my son, Ben, wrote a lovely poem for his wife. We were speaking with him about the poem today, and he said Elsa didn't care for it. What bothers Elsa is not the picture drawn of Ben, but the one drawn of herself. (If you haven't read the poem, please do! It's reprinted below.) Ben draws himself as frail and flawed, and Elsa as redemptive in his life. Those of us who know Elsa see her written all over that poem. And she only proves it by being uncomfortable with the praise Ben offers her there.
Every good marriage is redemptive. Dave believes I can be better than I, myself believe, knows the real me better than anyone else, and still chooses to love me, and calls me to rise to the occasion and return the good faith he gives me. He covers my sin when it needs covering, and confronts it when needed, though he is more gracious with me on that score than I deserve, covering far more than he confronts. He bathes me in prayer every day. His love makes me more lovely and lovable.
We can already see this at work in the marriages of both of our sons. What a joy it is to see them growing together, appreciating the deep relationships that can only be founded upon God. And I have daily reminder of God's grace through my own dear husband. God knew it was not good for us to be alone, and I am so glad He has given me such a blessing in my dear husband!
A Sonnet for my Wife by Ben Finnegan
How can I start, with what sincerest words
should I presume to some humility
or sadly boast of all my faults and failures,
or maybe calmly raise the possibility
that mine are not the hands that I would wish
to feel your fragile faith or touch your trust,
that I am fallen, broken, a work unfinished
shaped by shameful sins and lowly lusts?
While I am earthware, dust and gilded wire,
my frame and substance all corruption, you
lift your eyes and pray refining fire
because your love for me is pure and true.
You are clay the same as I, but bold,
bravely, humbly daring to be gold.
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