When we got married, we liked each other– a lot. And we called it love because that’s what you do.
But then it was only weeks after the wedding and I was stumbling into a year of depression and to be honest? I wasn’t very likable. I’m pretty sure the only person who actually enjoyed being around me was my mother. Thank God for mothers. But he was right there, just the same, walking beside me.
And then we were moving to Haiti and it was just us and this foreign language all around. Our knowledge of each other got pretty deep and at times life was a bit tense. Turns out there were some things we liked about each other and some things we didn’t. But we were stuck right there together, and just as the Creole language started to make sense with time, some of this marriage stuff began to make sense as well.
Turns out liking someone has very little to do with loving them.
Then we danced in the barn gripping a positive pregnancy test and subsequently mourned over the loss of a child who never truly lived. And he traced my cheekbone with his finger then leaned in and let his tears mingle with mine.
The next time depression attacked, he was right there, closer than ever. He caught my hand and whispered, “I’m scared, honey, so scared that I’m going to lose you again. Please, wherever your mind drags you, bring me along.” And he stooped and bore a load that wasn’t his and fought my demons away with gentle patience.
Turns out that when someone loves you true, liking them comes real natural.
Then there was this boy, this precious little orphaned 5 year old, and we made plans and payed out money and began preparing…
And my husband held my hand and walked with me for hours after the email came. He didn’t say anything, just walked the fields and listened to me take deep cleansing breaths. I knew that he had kept this removed a little, unbelieving that it would really happen, but he walked through my pain just the same.
Later he shrugged, “I thought to keep my heart safe but that really is impossible because you are my heart.” And his hand tightened on mine.
It was over a year before I could open up again. It was a girl this time and she came and played in the yard and snuggled in our extra bedroom. We met with a lawyer and finally told family and maybe, maybe this was really real?
This time we just stared at each other. And anger shook him because he’s a man and anger is easier than heartbreak. And I knelt beside him and held on because his heart was going to break and I love him, oh, I love him with this deep aching love, and I’d rather walk through the deepest sorrow beside him than dance through the greatest happiness without him.
In storybooks, love is painted with great sweeps of joy. But real love? I think it is often built from sorrow.[clickToTweet tweet=”In storybooks, love is painted with great sweeps of joy. But real love? I think it is often built from sorrow.” quote=”In storybooks, love is painted with great sweeps of joy. But real love? I think it is often built from sorrow.”]
It is the memory that when I was hurting the most, he never ever left. It’s the knowledge that no matter what kind of agony comes, I’ll never move from his side. It’s a choice we’ve made and we’re clinging to this great Solid Rock and even if we’re shaken to our core, our foundation won’t ever move.
And I’ll take this real, sorrow-stained love over the storybook kind any day.
—
Edited note: Years after this post was written, I finally released the rest of the story: how God built our family from all these splintered pieces and how we said goodbye to so many loved ones and still brought our older adopted children home. And, of course, how God taught my heart to delight in Him through it all.
Find your copy here: Counting Grains of Sand: Learning to Delight in a Promise-Making God
Melinda VanRy says
April 28, 2014 at 1:14 pmReblogged this on Found and commented:
Because it’s true, and noble, and right, and pure, and lovely, excellent and praiseworthy… think on this… (Philippians 4:8)
It captures the beauty beyond the struggle far better than I could today.
mariwarishishboomba says
February 25, 2014 at 2:47 pmbeautiful
Alma Roa says
November 26, 2013 at 10:21 pmThank you for your notes. They are always encouraging!!!
May the Lord bless you with His endless, changeless love.
We have a great and faithful God! Let us praise Him!
hannah says
November 9, 2013 at 4:06 amYou have endured so much. I know the heartache of infertility and crushed dreams. I am glad that you too have the comfort of a loving husband.
Lindsey van Niekerk says
August 29, 2013 at 9:57 amI wish I could tell you HOW much I understand but words escape me now….as tears fill my eyes with an understanding of a sorrow…and a love….this deep. Holding hands with you, dear sister, in a way that only those who have had love and let go of little hands can understand. {{{HUGS}}}
Thelma Nienhuis (@lifeastwo) says
August 23, 2013 at 7:44 pmThis? Beautiful. So thankful the Lord led me to discover your blog! Thank you for these words.
Natasha Metzler says
August 23, 2013 at 7:51 pmAww, thank you! So glad you visited. 🙂
The Reluctant Widow says
August 22, 2013 at 10:02 pmI had a husband who loved me like your husband loves you. What I am trying to do is figure out how to get through the sorrow of losing him without him. He was the one who always held me steady in the sorrows of life.
Your post is just so beautiful.
Natasha Metzler says
August 23, 2013 at 12:38 amOh, my, friend.
I’m so sorry.
I am thankful that you were able to taste that kind of love though, even if it was only for a season. {hugs}
beki says
August 21, 2013 at 1:50 pmi didnt plan on crying in my cube at work over these beautiful words. I wish i knew you..we would become instant sisters. Me and my husband of 8 years have been struggling with fertility for 5 years now and i am wanting adoption so bad and he isnt yet on board, our love story of sorrow has made us stronger, yet weaker to the love we once knew has woven so deep and strong and i am pretty sure that is the only thing that keeps me going..the anger, and just failure blinds me on a daily basis. I loved your story..thank you for sharing, strong hugs..
Miss Rachel {Young Homemakers} says
August 18, 2013 at 3:23 pmYou are fast becoming my favorite author/blogger to read. 🙂 This was so, sooo beautiful. With all my family and I have gone through in the last 9 years…all the heartache I’ve felt this year, just to know there is love like that and to see God’s hand working through sorrow in testimonies such as yours brings hope and peace to my heart that He can, and will, do so for me and my family too. I can’t really espress it the way I want to, but every post I read of yours blesses my heart so much, Miss Natasha. Thank you for your openness and loving heart to share what the Lord has taught you through your own trials because it has meant so much to me, more than you might ever know. {Hugs} May the Lord truly bless you. 🙂
Natasha Metzler says
August 18, 2013 at 4:28 pmRachel-
Thank you for your beautiful comment! Your encouragement is so very meaningful. May the Lord continue to bless you and keep you and make His face to shine upon you. {hugs}
Miss Rachel says
August 21, 2013 at 4:21 pmYou are so sweet – thank you and many blessings! 🙂
Hallie @ Moxie Wife says
August 17, 2013 at 10:19 amAbsolutely beautiful. Thank you so much sharing this with such raw honesty. It’s always nice to hear that we’re not alone in this mysteriously blissful and painful thing called marriage. I will be praying for you, sweet pea!
kendall41 says
August 15, 2013 at 8:16 amMy wife and I fought a lot. Sometimes I would think the only thing keeping us together was our both putting the children first. I wondered what would happen when they grew up and left the home. And I worried. Then my wife got cancer and my life became reduced to one imperative: take care of her, find a cure, don’t let her die–at least not without a fight. Then, miraculously, all the old antagonisms and disagreements crumbled. Both our lives became centered in the other, and the love that had been buried under years of neglect flowered. She did not survive the cancer, but I now thank God he kept us together until we understood how to love.
Natasha Metzler says
August 15, 2013 at 8:48 amOh, my. What a heartbreaking, but beautiful, testimony. Thank you for sharing your story, friend.
Jess says
August 14, 2013 at 10:51 pmOh Natasha….I know. Having held my husband as he was balled up on a floor sobbing from this pain…Having been held sobbing from this pain….I know. *HUGS*
Sandra Zimmerman says
August 14, 2013 at 4:16 pmVery well written. Praying you would draw even closer to one another and to God
Kendra says
August 14, 2013 at 2:09 pmOh, this is beautiful. A glimpse of the beauty of infertility…I needed this today. Thank you for sharing!
Joan Huntsinger says
August 14, 2013 at 1:38 pmWe also have had similar struggles & some more. Do you feel that your husband has part of your soul, or that you have part of his?
Natasha Metzler says
August 14, 2013 at 5:11 pmI think there are some things that only the two of us will ever understand, and it gives him an ability to see my heart that everyone else is unable to have.
That’s the beauty of the way God created marriage, I believe. When we walk this closely together, there is no way to separate my life from his.
Cheri says
August 14, 2013 at 12:35 amI am speechless. Aside from the fact that the details of our sorrows and struggles differ slightly from yours, you could be describing our marriage as well. You are an AMAZING writer!!!
Natasha Metzler says
August 14, 2013 at 9:43 amOh, Cheri- thank you. {hugs}
Rachelle Rea says
August 13, 2013 at 10:16 amWow. Amazing. Thank you for this shining example.
Heather Fryfogle Strickland says
August 13, 2013 at 8:05 amYour writing is amazing. I love reading your blog and loved Pain Redeemed,Natasha. Bless you and your sweet man.
Natasha Metzler says
August 14, 2013 at 9:42 amOh, Heather, thank you for your sweet encouragement!
Sandy Roes says
August 12, 2013 at 9:29 pmThis one really hit me Tasha, I guess because I know what that love that is built on sorrow is all about. Thank you for putting your heart into words… I too would rather take this sorrow stained love than the fairy tale one too.
Natasha Metzler says
August 14, 2013 at 9:42 amSandy- thank you for taking a moment to comment. It is so encouraging to hear from those who have walked through deep pain themselves and have let God use it in their lives to change and mold them in His image.
Julie Sunne says
August 12, 2013 at 7:42 pmA true picture of love. Moving and ministering. *Hugs* from afar.
leilabella says
August 12, 2013 at 5:46 pmI have tears running down my cheeks as I read this! I too can say that out of the deepest sorrow comes the deepest love! God bless you for sharing your story, Leilani
Natasha Metzler says
August 14, 2013 at 9:40 amLeilani, thank you so much for your sweet encouragement. It is always nerve-wracking to share personal stories but it is people like you who make it worth it. Blessings!- Natasha
leilabella says
August 14, 2013 at 3:29 pmThank you so much for sharing your story! It’s encouraging. Blessings to you, Leilani
KalynBrooke (@kalynbr00ke) says
August 12, 2013 at 5:41 pmI can’t even begin to imagine your pain, but thankful that you can write about it and communicate in such an amazing way. Thank you for affecting my heart today.
Lorretta @Dancing On The Dash says
August 12, 2013 at 4:28 pmFantastic.
Chantel says
August 12, 2013 at 4:22 pmReading this with tears in my eyes. Ours has been a different journey, but the love and the way that it deepens and grows in sorrow and pain? Yes. yes. <3
arrangedbygod2013 says
August 12, 2013 at 1:39 pmoh my soul, Natasha. This is so beautiful it made me weep. Love looks just like 1 Cor 13. and it is a choice. We are blessed when we get to experience so much more.
Natasha Metzler says
August 13, 2013 at 8:09 amThank you for all your beautiful encouragement, Shannon. xxooxx
naomiwhite08 says
August 12, 2013 at 1:06 pmI think we could be kindred spirits! 🙂 This is beautiful and so familiar. It’s amazing to me how sorrow drives some people apart if they close up and face it alone….but if you open up to the one you love and face it together, it’s a lot easier to bear under 2 sets of shoulders. I completely agree that I would rather walk this dark road of infertility with the man God made just for me than to never have to face this without him. I wouldn’t trade anything for this deep love that’s been born in sorrow.
Natasha Metzler says
August 13, 2013 at 8:07 amI’ve thought that many times, Naomi! It’s so fun when God sends you a friend who has walked your road. 🙂
Kris Camealy says
August 12, 2013 at 12:44 pmI love this so much. I am praying for your heart, my friend.
Natasha Metzler says
August 13, 2013 at 8:05 amThank you, dear Kris. <3