How Does Love Intervene

Last night I had dinner with my cousin at Fats (great Thai food) and the conversation served as an strange tipping point to recognizing to the great costs associated with marriage. My cousin is currently separated from his wife of 12 years. I sat and listened to my cousin, chewing on a delightful Walnut Shrimp concoction and wondered if I hadn't just heard this conversation before. You see, one of my best friends had spent the previous night over at my house as we watched the BCS game between Florida and Ohio State. He too was separated from his wife. A third great friend had also separated, and divorced, from his wife this summer.

As I listened to my cousin I couldn't help but wonder why divorce happens. Why is it that we can reach a place where we give up, lose hope, or just lose touch. In each case, it was not instantaneous events that contributed to the demise but ongoing lack of concern for the other person. Each had simply lost touch with the other person.

But in the listening I became aware that I am now my father's age when he divorced my mom. It is a strange thing to really reach an age and realize how completely impossible it is to prepare for marriage and really understand what it means to love someone forever. In each case the couple had simply grown indifferent and apart. Little things added up to create a giant wedge that pulled them in different directions. I cannot deny that I was deeply sad for each of them.

How does love intervene when two people reach a point of giving up? How does love find a way out and see beyond all of the crap that gets in the way and steals our hope? How do we regain the ability to love even when our spouse doesn't reciprocate, instead lashing out at simple attempts to make sense of the mess? I don't know. That is the problem.

I sat looking at my cousin very aware that love takes work. It takes a willingness to see beyond the simple petty things that add up and still find hope. I have hope for them, but I don't know if it is enough.