{bandit life}

hands
hands

Palpable notions of here.  Touch.  A sense all to itself overwhelming and God breathed.  This sweet sanctity of skin cells rubbing reminds me of our covenant. Together.In scarcity & abundance.  The heavy hoist of busy has hold. On us. With its grip firm on our clocks, we steal like robbers. From one another when we can. Bandits bound by a wedding ring.  Oh, how I miss you.

Marriage is a topic I love to write about. My how forever feels post was well received.  And yet, ideas on marriage scare me to put into type.  For what makes ours flow and find healthy a little more along life's way is not the same God deemed right for someone else.  My words communicated in this space are simply that.  Mine.Ours, respectively.  They serve as a truth known only to he and I; they serve as support to others reading them in hopes that their healthy is alive & well.

Kenny and I have lived; our marriage has learned.  I guess that's how I like to read us best. We have failed one another countless times.  Without a doubt, we have short changed the register of us. And it's in this failing, this short changing,  that we've grabbed a hold to one another a little tighter. Real implements like age & honesty are bringing us to a peaceful working balance.

I'd love to rattle off a recipe for a sure-fire marriage to you.  You know, one that will guarantee frequent fireworks under the covers, full bank accounts and Robin Thicke's "Forever Love" singing in the background.  But, I can't.  I can only offer you our truth.

Where does our truth come from? For me, it's touching the genuine in him a little more.  It's seeing him work hard, so very hard, for our family.  It's knowing him in new ways and remembering why he caught my eye in the first place.  It's his love for music. Late night sing alongs in the kitchen just he and I.  It's his conviction to a sad song.  The unrequited love genre gets him every time.  It's knowing that we sleep best together side by side.  And that he loves orange juice with pineapple out of his Papaw Cobble's glass in the mornings.

feet
feet

It's the way he trusts me with our children.  And how he sees me as someone worthy.  It's in his apologies after wrongs done.  Even if I have to wait for the stubborn streak in him to subside.  I love him more each time he lets go a little sooner than the time before.  I try not to keep up with a checklist of wrong vs. right. And before I know it, I already have.  The reminder to love not measure is what brings me back to center.

Yes, I can report nothing to you of sound marriage doctrine.  I can't even boast that what we have is how it should be done.  I can only remind myself of the place we've made for ourselves together. In scarcity & abundance.Without measure.  Honestly moving more towards what our healthy can be. For me, in these busy-barely-there times of our life, his touch is my motivation.  His skin with mine.I find my joy there.  And I remember that the bandit life is fine, for a time, as long as I'm with him.  Oh, how I miss you.

.mac :)

bandit life title
bandit life title