I feel sure that this is the kind of grace that peaceful marriages are built on. When husbands and wives resist the urge to be right, to drive their point home, to prove their own righteousness and their spouse’s wretchedness, when they give up their freedom to be offended, when they choose forgiveness over anger—this is where God-given peace can flourish.
We tried to go to bed. It was late, and we were beyond exhausted, but as we lay stiff and unflinching in our dark bedroom, we knew that neither of us would soon be getting any sleep. I had said something stupid as I am wont to do. It was just an off-hand, thoughtless comment, and I knew as soon as it came out of my mouth that it was wrong.
My words hung in the air between us, an invisible barrier to our usual friendship and affection for one another, and no amount of apologizing could erase what I had said. He was hurt and angry, and he had every right in the world to be.
We argued in our awkward way. We debated about who would move to the couch, although in truth neither of us wanted the other to go. On most days we look forward to this very moment, crawling into bed together after a long day, breathing side by side all night. Familiar. Easy.
