Be still

I have written about many topics on this blog.  I know it's largely an accounting of my son, his rare disease journey, and my own processing of that.  But I've also touched on family, breastfeeding, work, depression, and other topics.  Somehow I've never put to words my feelings about the most important person in my life. I've never needed to, to be honest.  He isn't one who likes attention anyways.  But the events of late, as well as my own introspection, coming up on 20 years of marriage together, has made me need to.  And if you are like, "Oh please, here's another humble brag post about how great my relationship is" (insert eye roll), don't worry.  This isn't that.  This is about the hard.  The not-glamorous parts of sharing your life with another.  So if that's for you, read on.  

I have a restless mind.  I am not quiet or meek, and do not keep my opinions to myself.  I feel deeply, can overthink, and can get in my own head all too easily.  I tend to fill my time with frantic activity, many times just to keep my mind quiet and my thoughts at bay.  But the man I married does not.  He is calm and quiet, but not without deep insight into me and the world around him.  I think many who know me and not him may wonder what manner of man could "handle" me.  And may assume that I must run over whoever I'm with.  The people who know us both probably get a good laugh out of that, as no one runs over this man.  He doesn't feel the need to beat his chest though, he just quietly does his thing and is who he is with no care of what anyone thinks about it.  And he has no problem telling me like it is, whether I like it or not.  And the level of insight he has on me, my motivations and feelings, and relationships with others is incredible.  I've said often that he is the smartest person I know, but what it really is, is that he knows me better than anyone, and it somehow amazes me when he has the insight that he does.  I don't know how he can see what he sees, but he does.  But all of this constitutes things I've known for a long time.  None of this is news. 

What I've come to appreciate so much in the past months is the stillness that he brings to my heart and mind.  He doesn't feel the need to fill every silence with words.  When I'm broken, he lets me be.  He is there to listen when I'm ready to talk, and has no trouble being silent if I'm not.  He is there to sit with me while I distract myself and read.  He doesn't feel like he has to "fix" anything, but knows to just be.  Be there.  Be still.  And for a heart and mind that has trouble being still, being with someone who does it so well is a haven.  

In the past months, I've experienced discouragement and brokenness in my job.  He was still and he was there, and saw me through it.  But all of that pales to what we walked through in the past month.  He experienced a loss so great, it completely changed his life.  I won't speak on how this affected him, as that is his to tell, but this loss rattled our entire family.  It changed how it looks for us all.  But as we walked this road, I saw again, who he is, and was amazed at the quiet strength he brings in even the darkest times.  The stillness and peace he brought to the ICU.  To the waiting room.  In the conversations where no good news could be found, and the shadow of death loomed.  To the quiet houses afterward. To the funeral home.  This man's strength and stillness was comfort.  

We then followed that with another trip to Boston with Jacob.  Again, even in the throes of grief, he was stillness and peace as we walked this road.  It was too soon.  Never mind that this waiting room was filled with hope and the shadows didn't linger; it was still too soon to be back in a hospital, back in a waiting room.  Yet he was still.  Unmoveable.  A strength when I struggle to find it.     

A few days after we got home I heard a song that brought me to my knees.  I'd never heard anything that describes him so well.  And it was the best thing that I could think of that comes close to doing justice to what he does for me.  He does so many things and loves me so well.  He is an amazing partner and father to my children, he is romantic and has never stopped being in love with me and showing it so well.  But what I never could put a finger on, and often overlooked, was how good he is at being still.  And how much I need that in my life.  

Be still 

Be still and know that I'm with you

Be still and know that I am here

Be still and know that I'm with you

Be still, Be still, and know

When darkness comes upon you

And colors you with fear and shame

Be still and know that I'm with you

And I will say your name

If terror falls upon your bed

And sleep no longer comes

Remember all the words I said

Be still, Be still, and know

And when you go through the valley

And the shadow comes down from the hill

If morning never comes to be

Be still, Be still, Be still

If you forget the way to go

And lose where you come from

If no one is standing beside you

Be still and know I am

Be still and know that I'm with you

Be still and know I am

-The Fray

I know it's not light and romantic and glamorous to talk about this aspect of a relationship.  We all love to show our shiniest faces and beautiful smiles, and sweet kisses to the world.  And just how wildly happy we are with our partners. But we wouldn't be that, couldn't be happy after 20 years if we hadn't learned how to weather the dark times.  The heartaches and disappointments.  And figured out how to love each other when our faces didn't shine, and instead were darkened with grief and streaked with tears.  And for me, the stillness of the man I love, brings peace to a mind rarely at rest.  Yes, he knows how to love me big, and we laugh and love beautifully.  But man, does he also know how to still my soul.     

I think so often we get it wrong.  I know I do.  In relationships, in friendship.  We want to fix someone, fix a situation.  Say the right thing, make them feel better.  When maybe all they need is for us to be still.  Be there.  In silence, in solidarity.  Just stop fixing and start being still.  And the darkness of a road may just be made a little lighter with someone we love sitting with us.  Their stillness and peace bringing strength for us to keep walking. I want to be more like him.  But more than anything, I'm thankful.  Thankful for who he is and the stillness he brings to my heart and mind and life.