Our Keepsake Journal is Here! 🎉

Husband, we’ve been here before, in this pretzeled mess we’ve made of our priorities. And we let it all get out of hand; too tangled and complicated to straighten out on our own. That’s when we came to understand the full force of the destruction that comes from not putting each other and our marriage first. Before the kids, even. Before the jobs or the numbers in the checkbook. Before friends and extended family. Before daily chores and never-ending responsibilities. Before temptations. Before every and all the things. 

Worse, we took our marriage to proverbial rock bottom as a result of how low we downgraded its importance. Landing in that danger zone with a jarring thud, we felt the already present crack between us begin to widen into a crevasse so vast we didn’t know if we could bridge the gap. We weren’t sure we wanted to. The twisty highway we followed to rock bottom included taking the off-ramps of me giving up on our marriage mentally and you having an affair in response. At the affair, our wheels came off and we crashed.

Husband, what happened next was truly amazing. Once we understood we’d worked our marriage into a state of do or die, we both decided to do. We realized we still did. We still would. Though we found the road back from infidelity even more treacherous than the road we traveled to get there, we stayed the course. We left rock bottom with our eyes fixed on higher ground and we didn’t stop moving forward until we got there. 

Slowly and carefully, we rebuilt a stronger, better marriage using the hard-won bedrock a massive impact can reveal. Our love for each other now plunges to new depths, reinforced with the priorities we put back in order. Our mutual commitment to one another, refined in the fires of its nearly fatal explosion, is fiercer than the one we had before. All this was possible because we still had love left for each other and because we asked Jesus to step in and take the wheel. 

When we let God back into the driver’s seat, everything changed for the better. We knew without a doubt failing to save a seat for Him was where we had gone fundamentally wrong. We knew that without looking to Him, trusting Him and relying upon His vision for marriage, we weren’t going to be successful at restoring our own.

Husband, once we refocussed on God, He opened your heart to couples counseling for the first time and then provided us with the main piece of advice we used to overhaul our marriage with. Under God’s direction, you sourced the book, What Did You Expect: Redeeming the Realities of Marriage by Paul David Tripp and in its pages, we found a salve we used to heal our gaping wounds.

Together, we read that book a chapter at a time mining each one for marriage wisdom gold. The biggest nugget was found in Tripp explaining how dire it was we begin to give each other our first and our best. Advice so simplistic and yet so profound, outlining a task we had failed at so miserably. One we were determined to undertake again and get right this time.

We began to put one another first and give of our best to each other, no longer of the dregs we had leftover after giving to ourselves and others. We chose to sit next to each other at restaurants while dining out with friends. We checked in with each other before adding anything to our calendars. We used our phones to communicate only love or important family logistics to each other. When home, we put those phones in the other room so we could focus on each other. We worked to keep little deals little, from growing into big ones.

Mornings, we awoke and spent time in prayer, over coffee, or making love. Sometimes all three and not necessarily in that order. We sat on the couch as day turned into night and looked each other in the eye. We held hands, uncovered our hearts and bared them to each other. We ended our nights with a shared activity, some words of love, a boa-tight snuggle or more intimacy. Sometimes all of the above and in reverse order.

Giving our first and our best to each other in all the ways we’d neglected to before worked to reinvent us. Along with months of therapy, mountains of forgiveness and plodding to work through every challenging emotion the wrecking of our marriage brought ’round. Astoundingly, we eventually made it all the way back home. And taking into account how far we’d strayed, we consider this a monumental victory and testament to the two of us. 

Husband, now years later, I feel us slipping back into our old, poorly prioritized ways. While it’s cause for concern, it does not yet cause worry. We’ve been here before and we’ll likely be here again. Being in this disconnected state isn’t the problem, it’s what we do next that could be. So let’s double back to where we started to heal and begin yet again. Together, let’s turn to God and ask for help once more, for it’s when we’re humble and weak He can so easily remold us like clay.

Let’s recognize we’ve grown weary and tired in raising tweens into teens, in too much work and not enough play, in holding friendships together as life tugs them apart. Let’s call out how we’ve become lazy again at loving each other with action, words, and face time.

For this ebb and flow of energy in marriage is written in the stars and regulated by the moon. We’ve just to read the tide tables of love and plan accordingly. We’ve just to be aware of when our connection to each other wanes. We’ve just to hold tight and ride out the waves together, not apart. 

Husband, we know how to safely arrive back at shore and we know to begin the effort to get there the moment we feel adrift, too far out at sea. The very instant we feel the strength of our bond giving way to the forces that constantly work against it. We know that simply sitting with each other does wonders. We know spending our time talking and touching, planning and debating, explaining and requesting, or sharing and praying further reinforces and fortifies whatever is weakening within us.

We learned all this the hard way and paid a heavy price for that education. Husband, let’s use that knowledge and set ourselves back to right with each other quicker and quicker each time we’re pulled apart. For we are not our mistakes, either one of us. We are more so what we do right after. And while taking each other for granted or falling short of our vows will happen from time to time inside our humanity, we can remedy it all so quickly when we begin again to give each other our first and our best.

Husband, God’s got this. And we’ve got this now, too.

“This side of heaven good marriages are good marriages because the people in those marriages are committed to doing daily the things that keep their marriages good. Things go wrong when couples think they have reached the point when they can retire from their marital work and chill out, lie back, and slide.”
― Paul David Tripp, What Did You Expect?: Redeeming The Realities Of Marriage

You might also like:

Why I Chose to Stay After My Husband Was Unfaithful

Dear Husband, I Loved You First

Dear Husband, I Am With You Even When It’s Hard

Want more stories of love, family, and faith from the heart of every home, delivered straight to you? Sign up here! 

Husband, Let's Make Time For Us Before We Decide Not to Anymore www.herviewfromhome.com #marriage #divorce #love

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now
So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Jodie Utter

Jodie Utter is a freelance writer & creator of the blog, Utter Imperfection. She calls the Pacific Northwest home and shares it with her husband and two children. As an awkward dancer who’s tired of making dinner and can’t stay awake past nine, she flings her life wide open and tells her stories to connect pain to pain and struggle to struggle in hopes others will feel less alone inside their own stories and more at home in their hearts, minds, and relationships. You can connect with her on her blog, Utter Imperfection and on FacebookInstagram, or Twitter.

I Thought Our Friendship Would Be Unbreakable

In: Friendship, Journal, Relationships
Two friends selfie

The message notification pinged on my phone. A woman, once one of my best friends, was reaching out to me via Facebook. Her message simply read, “Wanted to catch up and see how life was treating you!”  I had very conflicting feelings. It seemed with that one single message, a flood of memories surfaced. Some held some great moments and laughter. Other memories held disappointment and hurt of a friendship that simply had run its course. Out of morbid curiosity, I clicked on her profile page to see how the years had been treating her. She was divorced and still...

Keep Reading

The First 10 Years: How Two Broken People Kept Their Marriage from Breaking

In: Journal, Marriage, Relationships
The First Ten Years: How Two Broken People Kept Their Marriage from Breaking www.herviewfromhome.com

We met online in October of 2005, by way of a spam email ad I was THIS CLOSE to marking as trash. Meet Single Christians! My cheese alert siren sounded loudly, but for some reason, I unchecked the delete box and clicked through to the site. We met face-to-face that Thanksgiving. As I awaited your arrival in my mother’s kitchen, my dad whispered to my little brother, “Hide your valuables. Stacy has some guy she met online coming for Thanksgiving dinner.” We embraced for the first time in my parents’ driveway. I was wearing my black cashmere sweater with the...

Keep Reading

To The Mother Who Is Overwhelmed

In: Inspiration, Motherhood
Tired woman with coffee sitting at table

I have this one head. It is a normal sized head. It didn’t get bigger because I had children. Just like I didn’t grow an extra arm with the birth of each child. I mean, while that would be nice, it’s just not the case. We keep our one self. And the children we add on each add on to our weight in this life. And the head didn’t grow more heads because we become a wife to someone. Or a boss to someone. We carry the weight of motherhood. The decisions we must make each day—fight the shorts battle...

Keep Reading

You’re a Little Less Baby Today Than Yesterday

In: Journal, Motherhood
Toddler sleeping in mother's arms

Tiny sparkles are nestled in the wispy hair falling across her brow, shaken free of the princess costume she pulled over her head this morning. She’s swathed in pink: a satiny pink dress-up bodice, a fluffy, pink, slightly-less-glittery-than-it-was-two-hours-ago tulle skirt, a worn, soft pink baby blanket. She’s slowed long enough to crawl into my lap, blinking heavy eyelids. She’s a little less baby today than she was only yesterday.  Soon, she’ll be too big, too busy for my arms.  But today, I’m rocking a princess. The early years will be filled with exploration and adventure. She’ll climb atop counters and...

Keep Reading

Dear Husband, I Loved You First

In: Marriage, Motherhood, Relationships
Man and woman kissing in love

Dear husband, I loved you first. But often, you get the last of me. I remember you picking me up for our first date. I spent a whole hour getting ready for you. Making sure every hair was in place and my make-up was perfect. When you see me now at the end of the day, the make-up that is left on my face is smeared. My hair is more than likely in a ponytail or some rat’s nest on the top of my head. And my outfit, 100% has someone’s bodily fluids smeared somewhere. But there were days when...

Keep Reading

Stop Being a Butthole Wife

In: Grief, Journal, Marriage, Relationships
Man and woman sit on the end of a dock with arms around each other

Stop being a butthole wife. No, I’m serious. End it.  Let’s start with the laundry angst. I get it, the guy can’t find the hamper. It’s maddening. It’s insanity. Why, why, must he leave piles of clothes scattered, the same way that the toddler does, right? I mean, grow up and help out around here, man. There is no laundry fairy. What if that pile of laundry is a gift in disguise from a God you can’t (yet) see? Don’t roll your eyes, hear me out on this one. I was a butthole wife. Until my husband died. The day...

Keep Reading

I Can’t Be Everyone’s Chick-fil-A Sauce

In: Friendship, Journal, Living, Relationships
woman smiling in the sun

A couple of friends and I went and grabbed lunch at Chick-fil-A a couple of weeks ago. It was delightful. We spent roughly $20 apiece, and our kids ran in and out of the play area barefoot and stinky and begged us for ice cream, to which we responded, “Not until you finish your nuggets,” to which they responded with a whine, and then ran off again like a bolt of crazy energy. One friend had to climb into the play tubes a few times to save her 22-month-old, but it was still worth every penny. Every. Single. One. Even...

Keep Reading

Love Notes From My Mother in Heaven

In: Faith, Grief, Journal, Living
Woman smelling bunch of flowers

Twelve years have passed since my mother exclaimed, “I’ve died and gone to Heaven!” as she leaned back in her big donut-shaped tube and splashed her toes, enjoying the serenity of the river.  Twelve years since I stood on the shore of that same river, 45 minutes later, watching to see if the hopeful EMT would be able to revive my mother as she floated toward his outstretched hands. Twelve years ago, I stood alone in my bedroom, weak and trembling, as I opened my mother’s Bible and all the little keepsakes she’d stowed inside tumbled to the floor.  It...

Keep Reading

Sometimes Friendships End, No Matter How Hard You Try

In: Friendship, Journal, Relationships
Sad woman alone without a friend

I tried. We say these words for two reasons. One: for our own justification that we made an effort to complete a task; and two: to admit that we fell short of that task. I wrote those words in an e-mail tonight to a friend I had for nearly 25 years after not speaking to her for eight months. It was the third e-mail I’ve sent over the past few weeks to try to reconcile with a woman who was more of a sister to me at some points than my own biological sister was. It’s sad when we drift...

Keep Reading

Goodbye to the House That Built Me

In: Grown Children, Journal, Living, Relationships
Ranch style home as seen from the curb

In the winter of 1985, while I was halfway done growing in my mom’s belly, my parents moved into a little brown 3 bedroom/1.5 bath that was halfway between the school and the prison in which my dad worked as a corrections officer. I would be the first baby they brought home to their new house, joining my older sister. I’d take my first steps across the brown shag carpet that the previous owner had installed. The back bedroom was mine, and mom plastered Smurf-themed wallpaper on the accent wall to try to get me to sleep in there every...

Keep Reading