If you know me at all it may come as a surprise to you, reader, that when I see posts of the lusty summer months and their festive nuptials and those sparkling starry-eyed newlyweds they cause me to reflect on my chilly autumn wedding and my lack of luster following the wedding …

After the moon had risen, it was as if my carriage had turned into a pumpkin. The magical glow was gone and there was no light in my soul. I didn’t want to be married, I decided, and I just wanted out.

If you know us as a couple, you know that Ian and I are miles apart different. Shortly after our wedding, we became literally miles apart as he went away for six months of military training. That first year of marriage we were just miles apart no matter the vantage point; spiritually, mentally, emotionally and physically, we were miles apart.

When remembering the precarious state of our covenant after it had just been made, and when considering the fragility of the marital bond on the whole and its vital purpose, I find that darkness clouds the spectacular view of the wide open future which only He sees; I find that love is pure sacrifice and deepest intimacy which lead to heaven’s gates; I find that the sparkle is not in the moment but in the refining fire.

If you know this to be true, reader, then my hope for you and for myself is that we would not dwell in the darkness when it comes but that we would wait with great anticipation for the surreal glow of being brought into the light by Him who is our soul’s delight.

May we cherish these festivities, whether lusty or chilly, watching the moon rise, the world turn, the sun come around …

In the hands of the potter,