I want to be jealous. I look around at other couples and make up stories in my head – their life wasn’t as hard, their losses not so grievous, their betrayal not so deep. I think, we had it worse. But that’s a lie, because everyone born into this imperfect world is touched by that imperfection. We all carry hurts and we all pass through trials – some are just less visible than others. What we do in those trials, and who we become (the plural “we” of marriage) has the power to be a witness to this wasting world.
