I love Sunday nights so much. The silence to the week. The closing. The wind down.
Tonight Michel and I went to the Todzia’s for dinner. Kristin and Sam, that is. I lived in Haiti with them what feels like forever ago, but was about 6 years ago really. Kristin is 28 going on 40, and they’ve been married 7 years now. When I first admitted to my pregnancy, when it all started to unravel, it was these two who kept me sane. Who continuously, never tiring, supported me, loved me, and still, respected me. Kristin defended my heart to the point of tears so many times, and Sam, he never looked at me with accusing eyes. He just did what he does best, and made me laugh. And laughter, well it heals so many wounds.
We started to talk about heated topics tonight, because as Catholics we always seems to do this, dig up things in this world that make us sick and talk them into the ground. I asked Sam a question about pornography, because a friend and I had been talking about it earlier, and his answer birthed a thousand more questions.
Pornography is more addictive than heroine. Is there more to say than that? Oh yeah, there is.
It is the opposite of love, and it is teaching people, children, that women are objects.
God there is so much more. But that’s not really why I’m writing tonight. Sam gets so passionate, so wild really, about these topics. Mostly because it is offending what he loves and honors the most: marriage. As he was talking I looked around the room, a heavy thankfulness settling around me. Their home is small and beautiful, brought to life by pictures of everything they love. The wood was burning, we were drinking tea or hot chocolate or coffee and eating apple crisp, and Sam couldn’t eat, his spoon kept making feeble attempts to get to his mouth, only to be forcefully thrown back in the bowl with every point he remembered to say, too focused to eat, I guess. Kristin sat on a stool that Sam had just given her for Christmas, and as Sam talked about marriage, about the sacredness of the unity of two people, how big the sacrifice is, and how good it is, I couldn’t help but be drawn to Kristin. To sit and watch the man you love, the man you married, defend, so passionately, the very calling of his life; being bound to you. To know that she married a man who will die for Truth, who will lay down his life for what is right. Wow. How beautiful. How blessed. How right.
I looked to Michel then, who sat big eyed and silent on the couch, the fire evident inside him, just still contained. How he’s grown. How he’s changed. His life has unfolded so differently before him and he’s so gracefully risen to the challenge. I respect and honor him so greatly. I am so thankful that he has been surrounded by men like Sam, men who devour Truth and cannot keep it to themselves. Where are the rest of these men? Men who deserve women like Kristin, the modern day Proverbs 31 woman, who also isn’t afraid to starve for Truth, who supports her husband fiercely. God, I am so blessed to have such witnesses, such influence.
Driving home all I could really think about was that word: influence. I’ve been an example of God’s mercy, but I need to focus on His redemption. On that glorious resurrection. Being trapped in sin strips you of your identity, it enslaves you. I’ve been given a second chance, and I want to use it boldly. I owe so much more, because I’ve been given so much. I wasted my influence before. I created a broken family. Michel and I are working so hard to be everything that Levi needs, to make the wounds as little as possible. This requires a death to complacency, a death to mediocracy. Just sitting and listening to Sam talk reminds me of how radical we’re called to be. Radical too, about simple truths. It is so absurd that there is a war over pornography. Give me one good reason for it. Ok. Duh. You can’t.
Come on world, what have we become?
God, thank you for your mercy. For always knocking, always waiting, always forgiving. Thank you too, for your justice.
And thank you for the institute of marriage. And for allowing me to be in the presence of people like Sam and Kristin.