A strange thing happened when I decided to get married. All of the sudden, the things that I thought defined my life don't seem to matter nearly as much as the life I am going to build with him.
He fills my heart.
His love holds my attention so much so that even if I got a C in a class or upset one of my professors or bombed an interview, I know that I would be ok. More than ok--I would still be blissfully happy.
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| photo courtesy of my big sister |
Ok, cool. I've done it. I've made the decision that will get me through thick and thin. It doesn't matter what trial comes our way; as long as we're together, we'll make it. Right?
But what happens if the trial that comes our way is about us? What if the trial will be learning how to be happy without each other? Or, what if it's even harder than that?
I know that this video is nine minutes long. But, seriously. If you have the time, please watch it.
As I was watching their story, all I was thinking about was what I would do if I were in her position. If I'm being honest with myself, initially, I had no idea. None. The panic set in as the tears rolled down my cheeks, and I could feel my world theoretically crumble. I love him more than I thought I could love anyone. Would I love him enough to look past major life changes like that and marry him anyway? Your spouse is supposed to be your biggest support, the always-reliable shoulder to lean on, your soundboard for life's difficulties, big or small. An anchor that reminds you of who you are and who you want to be.
As soon as I thought about that, Elder Jeffrey R. Holland's most recent talk, "Like a Broken Vessel," which he gave in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saint's annual General Conference, came into my mind. He spoke of trials in life, specifically for those who have mental and physical hardships. This is a quote that really stuck out to me:
We are infinitely more than our limitations or our afflictions!
I realized that, even though Ian's and Larissa's trial is one of the most difficult I've ever seen, they are somehow still looking at their life as a blessing. When Larissa spoke about primary and secondary actions, she said that Ian couldn't give her the secondary ones, and that makes things hard. But he excels at the primary actions--loving her, loving God--and that makes it work. They mattered much more than anything he may be lacking right now.
Why do we love people? Is it because of the things they do for us? Is it because of the words they say to us? Partly, yes. But I think it's so much more than that. When you truly love someone, when you can truly understand who they are and love them for it, all of the superficial stuff doesn't matter anymore. Christlike love isn't about noticing the way they look to other people; it's about remembering and focusing on their divine spirit, even when it's hard. When they can do the same thing for you, that's when they start to fill your heart.
We are worth infinitely more than our limitations or our afflictions. The most Christlike attribute you can have is charity--the pure love of Christ. These limitations only last for our mortal lives, which, granted, seem like a LONG time, but they will eventually end. Then, when all is said and done and we are in eternity, the love is what remains. And we realize that the love is what filled us in the first place.
ka.
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