The Gaggiest, Greatest Love Story

August 2005: a barely-18-year-old me packed up and moved to a small west Texas town for college. I’d never been to Texas before, but I was 100% sure (based on movies and other characterizations) that every Texan boy wore boots and cowboy hats. And possibly rode a horse to class. Definitely had experience with ranching and breeding longhorns.

I was excited about the prospects.

Imagine my surprise when I met an irresistible, clean cut, New Balance-wearing accounting major the first day I stepped foot on campus. No Stetson, no pearl snaps, just a baseball hat and an ample t-shirt collection.

I immediately knew there was something different about him. (And not just the fact that he thought our shirts were the same color in the scene above. Colorblindness is apparently a very real thing, you guys.)

We started officially dating 2 weeks into school….nearly 1 decade ago. What.

One house, 2 1/2 kids, and one anxiety-ridden dog later, here we are. Me and my Taylor man.

He is strong, loyal to a fault, and incredibly thoughtful. And silly handsome. And smart. Dude is so smart.

He’s an amazing man, one whose life speaks volumes of godly manhood to our own future men. He does everything in his power to make me a happy wife.

I hit the jackpot. I love him something fierce.

But you know what?

He’s not enough.

As thoughtful as he is, he will never encourage and compliment my girly heart enough. As strong as he is, he will never be able to carry away all of my insecurities. As loyal as he is, he will never make me feel completely whole.

It’s just not his job to be my everything and I do an incredible disservice to him when I expect it to be.

But this is how we do, isn’t it? We love love. We crave the never-ending, intimate, forever kind of love of another soul.

I love these words from Penny & Sparrow:

Because I’ve seen you
And I know you
And I’m not going anywhere

I want that.

Enough

I was introduced this week to a song from Bethel Music called We Dance.

Part of the lyrics are this:

And I will lock eyes
With the One who’s ransomed me
The One who gave me joy for mourning
And I will lock eyes
With the One who’s chosen me
The One who set my feet to dancing

Oh we dance
We dance
We dance, we dance
Oh we dance
Just You and me

I’m generally not a fan of the girl-centric “God is my prom date” kind of books/music/inspirational posters, but this song is good. Really good.

My friend Laci used this as part of a class for 8th grade girls on guarding their hearts in relationships. She shared the lyrics and said, “When we lock eyes with God, everything else fades away.”

What truth.

I’ve been chewing on this all week. What was intended as a lesson for 13 year olds has been speaking to this 27 year old heart of mine.

Marriage is hard, even when you’re married to a wonderful person. It’s hard because we expect things from our spouses that they aren’t capable of. We expect complete and utter fulfillment. We expect to be loved and poured into to the brink of overflowing. We expect these things from fellow broken humans.

It just doesn’t work.

But when I lock eyes with God? When I lock eyes with the one who created me, who sustains me, who has chosen me? Everything else is put in perspective. Including my husband. My marriage.

There’s a novel idea. Rather freeing, really.

Taylor gets demoted from being my savior. He is released from the pressure of trying to complete me (and failing). He takes his rightful place as my greatest blessing – my best friend, my partner – not the one tasked with impossibilities.

This is the greatest love story. The one where God is my source of contentment, not my husband. The one where my focus on God allows me to fully appreciate His gift of intimacy with Taylor.

I’m thankful God is enough.

I’m even more thankful He knows He’s enough, yet still chose to give me the gift of being known and loved intimately by another soul on planet earth.

I pray I quit confusing the two job descriptions.