23 Nov A Walk in Muir Woods

Mimi offered to babysit on Saturday. When Mimi offers to babysit, we say, “Yes, please!” and high tail it out of the house.

For years I’ve had this fantasy that once we moved home, we would go back to all the places I loved as a child and haven’t been to in years. A few weekends ago, we visited Tilden Park and it made me ridiculously happy to see my daughter enjoying the steam train I loved as a child.

This weekend we ventured to Muir Woods, a fantastically beautiful National Park filled with old-growth coastal redwoods. Autumn sunlight filtered through the branches, dappling the forest floor with warm pools of light. Feathery ferns adorned the bases of majestically tall trees like lacy petticoat flounces. The air felt textured and a little heavy, pregnant with proximity to the sea.

The hike was invigorating, the views were gorgeous, but mostly it was about being together. My husband and I are very different. I have a deep desire to connect, a profound need to build and maintain strong relationships. He has a deep need to be alone, to recharge, to think, to rest. For the most part, our differences make our marriage work. If we’re not careful, we can easily become emotional ships in the night, missing each other, not making space or time to connect.

To be honest, I could have used a day to myself. There’s a writing project I’m dying to finish and one million other things I would have liked to do solo. My husband is a serious introvert; he can always use a day to himself. But we chose to be together.

I had no idea how much I needed to be with him. I had no idea how much we had to say. I had no idea how much I needed to cry with someone who loves me. He listened, we talked, we prayed.

When you’re tired and busy, it’s hard to stop and really see the person whose life you share. Even when someone hands you a day away, it can be a challenge to choose connection instead of coexistence.

It’s easy—so easy—to make choices that move us away from our husbands instead of towards them. We turn on the TV.  We only half-listen when he talks about his day. We criticize stupid things, nitpicking his choice not to tuck in his shirt (seriously, why) instead of thanking him for how he serves our family. We prioritize friendships, kids’ activities, the opinions of others, or even our own ministry obligations over him.

I am strongly tempted to prioritize the satisfaction of others’ expectations over loving my husband well. I am painfully aware of the proclivity in myself to give my marriage the leftovers. The Lord knew about this tendency when he put us together, so this is one area where our differences make our marriage stronger. Pete is good at saying no. He’s good at creating space for our marriage to remain a sacred priority.

This temptation to be externally focused to the detriment of my marriage cannot be indulged.

I choose him every time. I have to choose him. He matters. If we don’t choose each other, then none of our other choices matter. Period.

This life I’m trying to manage? All the things I’m tempted to choose over him? They don’t matter. This life I’m so concerned with doesn’t even exist without him by my side. Furthermore, I’m not interested in a marriage of convenience, where we share a life without really sharing a life. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

Ladies, my encouragement to you this week is to choose your husband. He’s the only one you’ve got so you might as well choose him. Choices are powerful. Exercising conscious choice means ownership over the outcome. Choice means one path to the exclusion of all others. Even when we choose the only option available to us.

Whether it’s a weekend away or an evening spent together eating steak burritos on your couch, choose him.