Dear Husband, Last night, we cuddled on the couch and watched a Will Ferrell movie on Prime. Scratch that. I watched a Will Ferrell movie on Prime while you snoozed next to me, but we were definitely touching. Before the movie, we sat together and laughed about how weird our kids are (SO WEIRD). The night before, we played Yahtzee at a friends’ house and acted like we were still in college, laughing so hard the kids came in to see what was so funny. (“Nothing. Go play.”) I fell asleep so thankful for you, reminded of how good you are to me and for me. This weekend was good. So good. But last weekend. Last weekend, I couldn’t believe I ever thought we were compatible. I thought you were a jerk, and you thought the same of me. I just couldn’t get over what you said and couldn’t believe you actually believe that. Last weekend I whispered a few choice words under my breath and resigned myself to my bedroom and cried until my eyes were puffy. I fell asleep numbering the differences between us, wondering if our personalities were too opposite, feeling like we were jamming two puzzle pieces together that just didn’t fit. Last weekend was hard. So hard. But you know what was so sweet about this weekend? You know what made it so good? That this weekend followed last weekend. What happened last weekend felt hopeless and dark. But this weekend says it wasn’t. We could have sat there in that ugliness and let it fester and ferment until our entire home was enveloped in a bitter, angry chill. We could have given in to our emotions and believed the whispers. “He’ll never change.” “How could I have married someone so ______.” “I don’t love her like I used to.” But we didn’t. We fought through it. And we’re getting better, aren’t we? Gosh, these hard seasons are achingly painful, but they are molding us into better versions of ourselves, chipping away at our selfishness and arrogance. Perhaps God is reshaping and trimming down our puzzle pieces with each wave of Hard, until one day they’ll just … click. I know we will have more hard weekends, hard weeks, even. Heck, there will be hard months. I also know there is an enemy determined to convince us that this time it’s for good. But I promise you this: we won’t stay there. I’ll fight through it and I know you will too, because we know that laughter and Will Ferrell movies and couch cuddles and the satisfaction of hard work paid off is lying just on the other side. And it’s so worth it. You are so, so worth it. This weekend reminded me of that. When you reached over to grab my hand during church. When you took all three kids outside to jump on the trampoline with them. When you let me sleep in. When you did the dishes without being asked. When you asked me to watch a movie with you. And then fell asleep five minutes later. You love me so well. I’m not sure I recognize how well at times, because you love me in so many small, seemingly insignificant ways. I’m so sorry I don’t see it sometimes. This weekend I saw it. Probably because last weekend I didn’t. Sometimes it takes the hard to open our eyes to the good. So I will take the hard because it means we haven’t given up; we’re still in the fight, still hanging on. It’s what gives us depth and makes the good times feel so good, the peaks feel so dang high. I’ll take it because I know whatever follows it will be worth it. Because you, my love, will always be so worth it. Love, Your Wife This post was originally published on Her View From Home.