The Walking Wounded: God's Hope for a Struggling MarriageSýnishorn

Then. Always. Now.

My daughter, you feel like you are lost. But you are never lost if I know where you are. 

Look—I am coming. Watch me lift the both of you. Watch me bend low and catch you up, just like your grandmother did when you were small. Watch—I do not hold back my love. Nor should you. I am yours. I am with you and I am not going anywhere. 

You have a fierce strength—but now it is tender, wounded. It is difficult to recognize how your current relationships can be affected by the love—or lack of love—you experienced when you were little. You have been trying to convince yourself you are okay, and you are. But know the truth: You are only okay when you know that you are loved. 

Do you know how much I love you, right now, just as you are, my darling? Do you know I have always loved you more than you could imagine?

Your struggle is not what you think it is.
You see the symptom. I shall cure the disease.
You pray for a flower. I must nourish the root. 

You want to reconnect with Mark? You want to love him with freedom and abandon? You want me to teach you how to love? You must do something first. Return now to the place where we began. Remember when you first knew me. Remember when you believed I was close. Next, let me show you where I was in the hard moments. I have always been near. 

Because in the moments when you felt abandoned, ignored, unimportant—I was with you, my daughter. Because in the moments when you ached for the “I love you” that never came—I was with you, my daughter. 

Because in the moments after you were married, when you tucked the children in and you slept by yourself, so many nights, I was with you, my daughter. 

You grew up thinking you were too much to love. Too needy. Too loud. Too present. Too weak. And you’ve carried these lies into your marriage. It is time to hear this, my darling. I want you to know this and live like you believe it: You were never too much. You were never too much to spend time with, have fun with, dance with, laugh with, hold hands with. You are beautiful and you are cherished. 

This is what I want you to remember:
You are the one I choose.
You are the one I’ve always wanted.
You are the one I want to be with.
Then. Always. Now. 

Exercise & Prayer

Sit down. Think of yourself at eight years old. Remember what you looked like, what you liked to do. Now consider: Were you loved? Did you feel cared for and adored by the people in your life? With God’s help—listening for his voice—write a letter to your eight-year-old self, telling her what is true about her, the things God thinks about her. Then write a letter to God, asking him to help you love a person in your life right now with whom you are having trouble. 

Father, I don’t always know how I need you. While I ask for help with one thing, you point me toward a different struggle—the root of my pain. You invite me into deeper healing. Please help me surrender and accept your love and help. Reveal to me what prevents me from loving others with a full heart. Help me surrender those obstacles to you. Remove them from me. Help me go forward, in freedom, loving others the way you love. In Jesus’ name, Amen.