People see the romantic surprises, the humorous Facebook updates, the loving blog-posts and think we have a pretty-close-to-flawless marriage.
The truth? Far from it.
I have said things I’ve regretted, slammed doors, walked off in bitterness, twisted a knife-ful of words into an already sore spot, unnecessarily brought up past incidents to wield as a sword made of sand. In spite of all the communication and marriage books we have read, I’ve committed some of the most heinous crimes in conflict management. If there’s a guilty party, a spouse filled with flaws, a poorer half who burdens the other, I know it would be me, not Cliff.
How do you find a man like him who initiates hugs after a fight whether he is right or wrong, someone who can genuinely say, “That happened yesterday. I forgive you and look, today’s a brand new day!”, someone who goes against his natural gender and occupational instincts which tell him to fix problems and find solutions in order to love you deeper by listening, only listening, deeply and without judgement instead of trying to “fix you”, buying flowers, expressing his love through generous words of affirmation. How do you find someone like that?
Once I asked Cliff jokingly, “How did I end up with you?”
To which he replied tongue-in-cheek in Cantonese, “Lei Zhong Jeung.” (You hit jackpot.)
I think I did. Or rather, God did a miracle.
Having recently been diagnosed with an uncommon health condition and being informed that I would likely have to be on medication for some time, I thought to myself how ironic the situation was. Before we married, naysayers advised me against marrying Cliff. They said Cliff’s medical condition of having had a liver transplant would be a burden to me; they said I would end up looking after him, and eventually become widowed early.
Yet, just within a year of marriage, I have been ill more times than he, and Cliff has faithfully taken the role of nurse, doctor, and spiritual advisor more times than I’ve had to nurse him back to health from any flu or ailment. Whenever I, in tears, tell him how sorry I am for burdening him, he says unflinchingly, “For richer or poorer, better or worse, in sickness and in health.”
I would like to think so, except that I can also foresee, in that time of suffering, him encouraging me to trust God, even when the illness is not on me.
It has been a perplexing time for us. Who do we tell about what we are going through? Would they understand? Did they need to? What implications does this have on our plans to do mission work? Sometimes I ask myself, could I have prevented this? Perhaps if I had done something more or less, I would have averted this? I’m a doctor, shouldn’t I have seen this coming?
And in the nights where the dark clouds are pregnant and heavy with tears, invisible between the bright and funny Facebook status updates and photo albums, that is where I find a glimpse of the meaning of marriage. It is not just about companionship, or making memories, or enjoying time spent together, but the steely determination to stay in, not out, to encourage and uphold and protect, to honor and cherish and love, for rich or for poorer, in sickness and in health.
Two days ago, Cliff had a dream. “I was sick upstairs. The doctors told me I had a brain scan and it wasn’t normal. I was going to die. At that moment, I felt the reality of my mortality. I was sad, but I was happy too, Wai Jia. Because I saw you downstairs talking to medical students. You were not worried or anxious, and I knew God was going to take care of you when I leave.”
Such is the transience of our time here on earth. Such is the brevity of this miraculous union called marriage.
As you gave me a hug on the train today before leaving for work, I whispered into your ear, “I hope I never take you for granted, Cliff.”
Thank you loving me, in moments when I’m unloveable,
for choosing to love me in ways that may be unnatural for you but nourishing to me,
for loving me in spite of all my fleshly wretchedness,
for loving me as a husband does his wife,
as Christ loved the church.
Thank you for journeying with me in sickness and in health, for better or worse.
I love you.
Photo by Sandra Bosscher, taken in Mississauga, where Cliff grew up in Canada
“Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church
and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word,
and to present her to himself as a radiant church,
without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless.
In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies.
He who loves his wife loves himself.
After all, no one ever hated their own body, but they feed and care for their body, just as Christ does the church
— for we are members of his body.
“For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.
This is a profound mystery—but I am talking about Christ and the church.
However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself,
and the wife must respect her husband.”
– Ephesians 5: 25-33