the vow.

Do you ever feel fragile?

I do.

The stomach bug. The broken bone. The car crash. The spouse that gives up and walks out. The cancer diagnosis. The broken relationship. The lost job. The missed opportunity. The unfulfilled expectation. The unexpected disaster.

The list goes on.

For me, it's feeling like I've been in a constant state of transition for several years. It's getting attached to people and having to say goodbye (or never getting to do so). It's not knowing what the future holds (or even really what this year will hold). It's the reality that, in opening yourself up in interpersonal relationships, you run the very real risk of getting hurt. It's doing a headstand (snarky comments to yourself, please) and immediately feeling a disk slip in my neck, and many visits to the chiropractor later, I can still fill this pinched nerve. 

As Ingrid Michealson says,

"We are so fragile,
And our cracking bones make noise,
And we are just,
Breakable, breakable, breakable, girls and boys."

Do you remember The Vow? That movie that came out several years ago with Channing Tatum and Rachel McAdams? Did you know that it's based on a true story?

I think I bought the book for my Mom years ago and saw it on the bookshelf at my parents' house while I was home for Christmas. I soon found that, not surprisingly, the book was vastly different from the movie. There were minor differences (such as the fact that the film was set in Chicago but the actual couple is from New Mexico), but there were several major differences as well. For one thing, the actual accident was much more traumatic, involving the car flipping and the husband getting half his face scraped off through the shattered sunroof and the wife having to be cut out of the car and airlifted to a hospital when no one believed she could possibly survive a head injury that severe. 

There is one more essential detail the filmmakers left out: The Carpenters (the couple on whom the film is based) are Christians. 

Of course, no one would really expect Hollywood to make that the focus of the film the way the couple keeps the gospel central as they retell their story of healing and restoration. However, eliminating the faith element makes the story a bit unbelievable, which perhaps is why I wasn't a huge fan of the movie when I first saw it. In a culture in which divorce is such a commonly chosen way out even in much less dire circumstances, why on earth would the husband stay when his wife doesn't remember her love for him and why would the wife stay with someone who feels like a stranger to her? Actually, I think in the movie they do file for divorce, and it is only ambiguously insinuated that they will make steps to be reunited in the end.

The real couple's relationship during the recovery process was actually, surprisingly, much more dramatic and volatile. As is apparently common with brain injuries, it was not only her memory that was affected; she also underwent huge personality changes as well in which she reverted to childlike tendencies and had trouble controlling her temper. She was often positively vicious and borderline violent with her husband, who was making so many sacrifices to walk this long road of recovery with her. But he never gave up on her. Why? In the face of such a daily, thankless struggle, would you have stayed?

I've learned a lot this past year. About grief. About forgiveness. About the idols of my own heart. But two sentences that struck me and have impacted me profoundly are two definitions of love I have heard this year:

"Love is a selfless and enduring commitment of the will to care about and benefit another person by righteous, truthful, and compassionate thoughts, words, and actions."

and

"Love is the extent to which you are serving and dying for another person."

That's quite a different idea of love than the one books, movies and social media rub in our faces. But what if these two definitions are more accurate than the one we've been led to believe?

What if our love and even our identity was based on the strength of our commitments and not on the shifting sand of fleeting feelings? 

I'm taking a marital/pre-marital counseling class as part of my degree this year, and I just finished The Meaning of Marriage by Tim Keller (which I would 100% recommend to singles as well as engaged or married couples). In his chapter entitled "The Essence of Marriage," Keller digs into the idea that "wedding vows are not a declaration of present love [which should be rather obvious] but a mutually binding promise of future love" and that they "keep you from simply running out too quickly" or giving up when feelings fade. 

Keller also argues for the idea that "we are largely who we become by making wise promises and keeping them." Our promises become a significant pillar of our identity. We choose to make a commitment, and keeping it is a character-defining exercise of willpower. Heck, even Dumbledore agrees: "It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities." 

Love, then, requires promise as much as or even more so than it involves passion. Love involves a feeling, but it is even more so a decision. To that end, I've found C.S. Lewis' explanation to be very helpful:

"Though natural likings should normally be encouraged, it would be quite wrong to think that the way to become charitable is to sit trying to manufacture affectionate feelings...The rule for all of us is perfectly simple. Do not waste time bothering whether you 'love' your neighbor; act as if you did. As soon as we do this we find one of the great secrets. When you are behaving as if you loved someone, you will presently come to love him."

A daunting challenge to us all. 

Do you ever feel fragile? Unsteady? Unstable?

Commitments (or better, covenants) are the one thing we can (or should be able to) count on. And whereas we, as fragile, flawed humans, often fail to keep our promises, Jesus is the only one who is steadfast. Who is sure. Who never changes (even when everything in my life, personally, seems inconstant). He is the only one who won't walk out.

Even on the cross, having been beaten and spit on and mocked by those he came to save...He stayed. He could have come down. He could have saved himself and let us take the fall for our sin (which would have been no less than we deserved). But he didn't walk away. He stayed. 

And He is the very Author and Perfecter of the idea of "covenant/commitment/vow."

For your Maker is your husband,
    the Lord of hosts is his name;
and the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer,
    the God of the whole earth he is called. (Isaiah 54:5)

...and as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride,
    so shall your God rejoice over you. (Isaiah 62:5)

even to your old age I am he,
    and to gray hairs I will carry you.
I have made, and I will bear;
    I will carry and will save. (Isaiah 46:4)

In this world of uncertainty and "shifting shadows" (James 1:17), I am held fast by this hope that is the anchor of my wandering heart (Hebrews 6:19):

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness;
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly lean on Jesus’ name.

• On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
  All other ground is sinking sand,
  All other ground is sinking sand.

I pray you can "rest in His unchanging grace" today and that you would also have the courage and the humility and the confidence to extend that grace to others. You won't regret it. You won't regret committing your life to Him. 

I promise.