Relational Resilience

This small green ball was an apology gift from my husband.  

True, most husbands, when they mess up tend towards flowers and chocolate.  

And yes, there was also chocolate involved.

But it was the ball that convinced me that some thought had gone into the apology.

What the mess up was I will leave between us.  Let's just say it was enough to warrant more than a good conversation and the words "I'm sorry."  And I will be quick to add here that in the forty-seven years of our marriage many mess ups with appropriate apologies have gone both ways.  And it is better if we can keep things small enough that a good conversation and the words "I'm sorry" are indeed sufficient.

But when something bigger has happened, an expression of remorse, acknowledgement, even embarrassment, and definitely a desire to change goes a long way to rebuilding anything that got broken.

So why would a small green ball with a fist on it be a good gift on this particular occasion?

Watch the video.

Just before Ken first whacked it down on the table, he said, "I really, really dropped the ball.  And I'm really, really sorry.  But you and I can recover!"  Then he whacked the ball down hard the table, and it did its thing.

I was shocked at first, expecting it to bounce of course, and leaning away from an expected trajectory.  But then it did what it does, so crazy like, and I gasped, then laughed so hard (much to Ken's relief since he wasn't sure if I would like it, or it would make things worse, as every husband who's trying to apologize for something might understand), just because it looked so hilarious and it was all so unexpected.

We did it over and over again several times, laughing and picking it up, and trying to figure out what its made of, then whacking it down again.  Then we sat down and I shared some of my/our chocolate, and we talked about "the thing" with an entirely different kind of energy.

Marriage is work.  It just is.  And it requires a kind of long-haul resiliency that defiantly defies the smack downs, and pulls you back together, time and time again.  It just does.  And Ken and I would both agree that it takes more than what we've got as individuals, or even together as a team to keep at it.  

I'll go back to Paul's words in 2 Corinthians 4:7, "But we have this treasure in jars of clay, that the all surpassing power is from God, and not from us.  We are hard pressed, but not crushed; perplexed but not despairing; persecuted but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed."

The rewards of the work are proportionate.  To quote Steve Bell "There's a certain scope to that long love that constant spirits are the keepers of."

Forty-seven years ago, Ken and I promised each other we'd grow old together.  

Well here we are.  

By the grace and goodness of God.  

And with a little help of crazy splat balls.