Of Highways... and Marriages

A couple of weeks ago I had the pleasure of spending time in Spring, Texas, watching two of my grandsons while Mark and Laura attended a conference. Tom drove me there so he could get in a visit as well. He left on Sunday, and I stayed the week. The following Friday he headed back Houston way to pick me up. Since he made the drive there, I volunteered to take the wheel on the trip home, allowing him to catch some shut-eye.

It was a pleasant trip home, for the most part. Weather was cool, traffic was moderate. There is still a lot of work being done on I-10 between Houston and San Antonio, so the occasional lane closures had to be contended with, as well as tunneling through those concrete "bumper pads," at seventy miles an hour, which always sends my blood pressure soaring.

Once I hit fairly open stretches of highway, the going was much easier, and as Tom slept I settled into a rhythm of passing slower traffic and then scooching back over to let the next guy take the lead. It was almost like a dance, very smoothe, very rhythmic. When things begin to get repetetive, whether it's washing dishes, mowing the lawn, raking leaves, or even painting the side of the house, my mind will begin to wander. Now don't be alarmed, I was still focused on the road, but I had time and space to think.

I cast a glance over at my sweet husband, sound asleep after his early morning trek, and I started thinking about how the highway, and more specifically sharing the road with other motorists, was not unlike marriage.

There were times when I could get out front, take the lead, and move ahead completely unencumbered by others pushing me along from behind. There were other times, though, when I needed to yeild, to relinquish that open road to another coming along beside, wanting to move out front themselves. This happened over and over again, oftentimes resulting in the same two vehicles trading places repeatedly, first the one in the lead, and then the other.

That's what got me thinking about marriage. I had always heard that marriage is ALL about compromise. I don't disagree with that, but I do believe there is much more to a successful marriage than simply going half-way to a middle-of-the-road place. I think the beauty of marriage is in the yielding, especially if it's done in order to help fulfill the other spouse's needs, aspirations... dreams.

As I navigated that long asphalt ribbon stretching out before me, my thoughts turned more and more frequently to my Tom. He's been a wonderful husband, you know. He's good at yielding. I'm learning, thanks to the good Lord and Tom's example. When we had our first child, Mark was sick. We didn't know just how sick he was at first, but that soon came to light. I was on maternity leave from teaching at the time, fully intending to go back to the band hall after my six weeks were up. God had other plans.

A diagnosis was still unclear, and when the doctors began talking about needle biopsies and a possible liver transplant, I crumbled. I went to Tom in tears, telling him I wanted to stay home with our baby, asking him if he would go it alone in providing for our little family. It had to have been hard, downright terrifying. We had a mortgage and two car payments besides medical bills rolling in, and I was asking to cut our income in half.

We prayed. My goodness, that's ALWAYS the very best, first thing to EVER do. We laid it all at the feet of Jesus... and Tom yielded. He gave way to my heart's desire, and he worked like a crazy person for years, taking whatever overtime was available, making sure we always had what we needed. I asked for more when Rachel was born, and for more still when I wanted to homeschool our four children. Tom yielded... and God provided. And what a blessing it all was.

The day came at last when there were no more children to raise, no more braces to get fitted, no more college educations to pay for... no more weddings to plan, and Tom came to me with a request. He had a plan, a desire, for our years as empty-nesters. It would involve our selling the sweet home we had occupied for twenty-seven years, the home I grew up in, the home where we had banked almost every memory with our precious kiddos.

I had been out front all those years with him fueling my path, yielding the left lane for me to soar. It was time for me to do the same, actually long overdue. I know without a doubt he'd have let me stay in the home I loved so dearly had I asked. That's just who he is, but my desires and my dreams had all been met, and it was time for this dear man of mine to have his. We sold the old place almost three years ago, and we have been living a lovely life here in our little casita ever since.

Compromise has its place, but there is nothing more loving, or more beautiful, than the yielding - the offering up - of one's hopes, dreams, and desires... for another's.

I love you, Tom Pulliam, and I thank God every day that He blessed me with you.