Two of my closest friends write incredible romance novels. When the main character finds herself in a terrible situation, along comes the hero. Somehow, against dismal odds, they solve the problem and fall in love in the process.
These stories are entertaining, and the characters are memorable. But aside from these colleagues’ works, I rarely read books in that genre. Why? Because I’m already living a romance. Nothing beats reality.
My first years together with my husband, David, were like a winding road with a washboard surface. We struggled to understand the mystery of wedded bliss, clunking along until we found the answer in Luke 6:31 (NIV): Do to others as you would have them do to you. If I want romantic moments, I need to offer them. If I need forgiveness, I first must give it. And to be appreciated, I must possess a thankful heart.
Like a novel, David and I perpetually find ourselves in the midst of one fix or another. Now married for forty-two years, our current challenge is the bathroom. At this point, it has a toilet. That’s it.
And it’s been years getting it this far. Will our love survive this test or will our relationship fall by the wayside, yet another victim of household repair? I’ve peeked at the conclusion of this story and know it ends happily.
Today is Valentine’s Day. There will be kisses and secret smiles and maybe a flower or two. But the gift I’m most thankful for is my husband’s devotion. Jesus’s love permeates our union, whether we have a bathroom sink or not.
—Heidi Gaul
