Clearing my throat, I answered, “It’s where branches used to be, right?”
She nodded with a smile. “That’s right. The tree grows around that branch. But if that branch is cut off, the base of it stays in the wood and becomes a knot. But the tree doesn’t fall apart. In fact, that knot sometimes is what makes the tree stronger.”
I looked at her in confusion, and she grabbed both my hands, leaning them on my chest.
“Mike, our mistakes and failures don’t disqualify us from God. He uses them to make us stronger. When you cut that tree apart, and a knot is revealed, it’s a reminder that something was removed, but the tree still stands.”
Her words reverberated in my mind. I’d given that failure to God years ago, but the depression that now plagued my mind kept bringing it up even though I’d let it go. Marrying Ren and thinking about the first time she and I would be one had only exacerbated that. Admitting to her that I was secretly dealing with depression had brought us to this reckoning.
“You’re right,” I said, my voice rough with emotion. “I don’t want to bring this into our marriage, Ren. I don’t want to pretend anymore that everything is okay.”
“Then let’s pray together. Make this something we do regularly,” she said, letting go of one of my hands and brushing my hair from my face. Her sweet scent enveloped me as her wrist came close to my face. I wanted to wrap us both up and never let go.
“I’d love that. More than you know, but I think I’d like to lead us tonight.” She smiled and closed her eyes. I took a deep breath and spoke.
“Father, thank You for bringing Ren into my life.” I paused and tried to find the right words. “Thank You for reminding me that I accepted Your forgiveness for this years ago. Help me to stop bringing up dead things. Things You’ve cut out of my life. Thank You for having my wife remind me of that tonight. Help me know what to do with these feelings that have been plaguing me. Forgive me for thinking You were angry with me. Please help me to be the husband Ren deserves. We love You, Father. Amen.”
I pulled her into my arms and kissed her head, whispering words of thanksgiving.
“Mike, we’ve said a lot tonight, and I don’t want to put too much out there, but I’d like to say this last thing. I think you should talk to Pastor Danny about counseling. I really believe it would help.”
I paused for a long time thinking about admitting to someone I looked up to that I was not perfect. My pastor had relied on me to help disciple younger believers, and I’d feared what he’d think of me once he knew the truth. Taking a deep breath, I nodded.
“I think you’re right. I don’t want to carry this on my own anymore. Talking to you has helped tremendously, butadmitting that I’ve been having some of these feelings for years has me thinking I need to speak to a professional.”
She smiled widely, wiping my last tear. “I’m so glad you’re open to that. Just know that I’m right here with you. You’re not alone.”
“Neither are you, Ren. I’m right here with you, too.” I gazed into her eyes, wishing I could show her how much I loved her. I wanted to kiss her and promise that I’d stay right there beside her always.
“Thank you for saying that. You might need to remind me often,” she said softly.
It was in these moments that I felt her allowing herself to get closer to me emotionally. We were going to need each other to build on this foundation of friendship, love, and trust as I navigated through counseling. I wanted to say so much more, but I knew my words and actions had to be carefully weighed. My wife wasn’t there yet. I’d accepted that when we took our vows, and I’d be patient until she was ready.
“Ready to get some rest?” I asked. She gently slid to standing and I took her hand and walked her to her room. “Thank you for…well, everything tonight.”
She twisted her shirt in her hand and looked up at me. “Thank you for trusting me. Good night.”
I smiled and answered, “Good night, Ren. Sweet dreams.”
Several days later,after letting my pastor know I needed to speak with him, we scheduled my first appointment. I hadn’t told him what it was about yet, but I was grateful to have someone I trusted to turn to.
That Saturday, Ren and I went to La Jolla to spend some time on the beach. She had been working on design projects at the house, and we both needed a day to just have some fun. I’dbrought my board, trying to convince her to try it. She scoffed when I pulled it out of the truck bed, and I held her hand through the sand until we found a spot to sit.
“Mike, I amnotgetting on that board,” she said, her free hand on her hip.
“Oh, I am getting you on it, Spitfire. Your stubborn streak is what will help you master surfing.”
She was shaking her head, making her curls release from her bun on top of her head. “Not going to happen.”
We were still teasing each other when a familiar face passed by, did a double-take, and turned back.
“Mike? Itisyou. Wow, it’s been forever,” Melissa said. We’d gone on a few dates, but nothing ever came from it.
Ren gave her a friendly smile. “Aren’t you going to introduce us,husband?” Her emphasis on the word ‘husband’ made Melissa startle. I thoroughly enjoyed jealous Ren.
“Ah. I’m sorry. Did you just say ‘husband,’” she asked incredulously.
“She did. Melissa Malone, this is my wife, Renata Walker,” I answered proudly. Melissa was one of the many women who’d made it clear I wasn’t husband material. I cringed just thinking about it.
