love him less.

For most of my life, though I have had close relationships with family and good friends, there was still a deep longing in me to know and be known deeply by another.

Until I was 22 years old (and married Mark), that "another" was the Lord.  Though I had plenty of times I could characterize as "lonely", I also shared such a deep, rich fellowship with God.  I knew what it was like to turn to him first, to confide in him, to cry out to him.

Then, as Mark and I entered into marriage, there was a subtle shift-- so subtle, in fact, that it took me almost two years to realize it.

Life changed quickly around us: brand new marriage, new city, new jobs.  New, new, new. And we were each the only person the other knew.  In the midst of this significant change, when I felt swallowed up by my circumstances, it was my first instinct to take hold of whatever was steady and within my reach.

While of course the Lord was very present with us in that season, I started to substitute God's intangible presence for the tangible- my husband.  It's difficult to trust when we're struggling that God is there, that he cares.

Mark, on the other hand, was right in front of my face. He knew me, he was committed to me. It was far easier- and instantly gratifying- to share my thoughts and feelings with someone I could see, who could show me in that moment that he heard me.

While Mark knows and loves the Lord and does his best to point me to him, I have recently found that I have become content with simply exposing my heart before my husband, rather than turning to my God.

This has meant affections that are divided; interests turned to the immediate.  Not seeking or trusting the sovereign care, works, and timing of my God.

This summer I have been reading A Severe Mercy.  It is a beautiful book in which the author falls in love, marries, has great adventures, and later comes to know the Lord, enduring difficult circumstances by faith in Christ.

Before the author and his wife know God, they speak of how they will keep their love alive: by sharing in everything.  They call it the "Shining Barrier" that will sustain their relationship.  I was so taken with this notion at its surface- it has a lovely appeal.  And, of course, it is true on some level. A relationship without sharing- in communication, in time, in each other's burdens- will not survive.

However, I know more deeply that a dynamic, flourishing relationship with God is the only way for a human love to be sustained.  Therefore, I desire, by the help of the Spirit, to pursue deep fellowship with the Lord, knowing that in this union a deeper union with my husband will also thrive.

After all, marriage is a picture of Christ and his church. Our marriages are to reflect the relationship that we share with Christ. (Eph. 5:22-33)

At our wedding, my dad read a poem written by John Piper (which Piper wrote for his son when he got married).  Of course, he's writing to the husband, but the truth is for us both.  I love Mark more when I love him less than I love God.

"Yes, love her, love her, more than life;
O, love the woman called your wife.
Go love her as your earthly best.

Beyond this venture not. But, lest
Your love become a fool's facade,
Be sure to love her less than God.

It is not wise or kind to call
An idol by sweet names, and fall,
As in humility, before
A likeness of your God. Adore
Above your best beloved on earth
The God alone who gives her worth.
And she will know in second place
That your great love is also grace,
And that your high affections now
Are flowing freely from a vow
Beneath these promises, first made
To you by God. Nor will they fade
For being rooted by the stream
Of Heaven's Joy, which you esteem
And cherish more than breath and life,
That you may give it to your wife.

The greatest gift you give your wife
Is loving God above her life.
And thus I bid you now to bless:
Go love her more by loving less."