“But Ruth replied, ‘Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God.'” Ruth 1:16, NIV
This week felt like riding a current and just when you think you are the one steering, it changes direction and you are now doing all you can to avoid crashing, or going under, or washing up. Between work, extracurricular meetings and tasks, household chores, and the horrible traffic near our apartment because of construction, each day felt too short. There was never enough time to get done what needed doing. Nobody cared that I was struggling.
(A guy in the Chick-Fil-A parking lot did tell me I was doing a good job leaving after he cut me off to take my vacated parking space, but I think he was being sarcastic. This was in front of his kids, too.)
Jason met me down in my slump, and showed me the kind of self-sacrificing love God tells husbands and wives to show each other. He held me and let me talk out my fear and worry. He breathed encouragement into me. He gave me space when I asked for it, but reassured me he’s never far away. I wasn’t fun to be around. You could have called me Mara: bitter, exhausted, resentful. But like Ruth, Jason remained loyal and steadfast. Strong for both of us when life wasn’t playing nice.
The note he left me on my windshield at work wasn’t fancy. No monogrammed notecard. No die-cut paper heart embossed with glitter. Just the back of a torn envelope, but the sweetest message in handwriting that carries his voice in every serif.
He goes where I go, and he stays until he knows I’m okay again. I’m so, so grateful for a love like his.
Two More Miles 