Whole and Hole.

This week wasn't the best. Kley and I both had a rougher week at work than usual in dealing with behaviors, which made us more tired and on edge. We didn't have the best week in our marriage either.

Sometimes having a blog is hard and makes me miss journaling. I used to journal a lot, but this blog has sort of taken the place of paper journaling. In most cases, I love blogging. But, there are times where it's inappropriate to blog intimate details of your life, especially inner details of marital conflict, because this is obviously more public than a private journal.

I don't want to speak poorly of my husband. I love him very much, but he is also an imperfect man. This week, an ongoing issue that we have talked about in our marriage reoccured again. Kley did something that hurt me.

I was sad because he chose to hurt me. I was mad because he did it again. I was disappointed to have to deal with this again. I was tired of facing it and I didn't want to forgive him. I selfishly felt like I had forgiven him enough and I shouldn't have to do it again.

It sounds horrible to write, but that's how I felt. I'm sure everyone has felt like that at some point. It's not a good thing, but it turns into a good thing when it pushes me to a breaking point- leads me back to Jesus and back to Kley.

I drove to Raccoon River Park (where Kley proposed to me) and sat in my car, watched the sunset by the lake, and listened to Fernando Ortega's instrumental version of Nothing But The Blood on repeat. It's definitely one of my favorites.

"What can wash away my sins? Nothing but the blood of Jesus. What can make me whole again? Nothing but the blood of Jesus. Oh, precious is the flow, that makes me white as snow. No other fount I know, nothing but the blood of Jesus."

It made me think about the difference between hole and whole. Like there is a hole in your heart when someone hurts you. There is a hole in your heart without Jesus, and He is the only one, the ONLY ONE, who can make you whole, and thus make your relationships whole.

It was a profound moment for me. I'm so thankful that Jesus DIED (and ROSE) so I could be forgiven. Over and over again. No matter how many times I sin. No matter how many times I commit the same sin over and over again.

How could I not forgive Kley when He has so graciously forgiven me time and time again?

(This is not to discount or discredit all the things that I have done wrong. I am clearly an imperfect wife as well and have hurt Kley many other times.)

Thank you, Jesus, for making me whole. For making us whole. For the restoration and the ability to start new, build back, and continue loving and growing.

I love you, Kley.