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  • Writer's pictureMollie Talbot

Valentine



I was overcome this morning at Church. I was worshipping in the best way I know how singing a song that I love- but not enough to start crying. Yet, I did. And I realized it’s because my musically preoccupied mind had drifted to the gift my husband gave me this morning for Valentine’s day; 6 months of Kindle Unlimited- and as great as that is- I was thinking more of the note he’d attached.

A note that included a portion that read “It was one year ago today that you reluctantly agreed to be my wife.” And there I was, present time, standing next to him in our church. My left hand in his, my right on my stomach feeling the baby we have made, somersaulting and kicking in my stomach. So yes, I cried.


Because a year ago today, I did reluctantly agree to be his wife. Shortly after, I tried to give him the ring back as I told him I didn’t think I could marry him. A year ago today I was given my first 30-day chip to mark myself clean/sober. A year ago today I barely had any belief in myself let alone an understanding that someone else could. A year ago the man who is now my husband, showed up in Kansas City where I was in the battle of my life and said that the battle wasn’t mine at all, but ours. And that it never wavered his resolve. He used a ring, two sizes too large, beautiful as it was- given to him by his mother before she left us less than 6 months before. I had lost my job, ends were barely being met, we lived in different states and yet he still… got down on his knee and slid that too-big ring on my finger. He said that no matter where I had been or where I currently was, that I was worth love. That these scary months spent lost, terrified, apart, defeated- hadn’t rattled him at all but made him more certain that we were meant to be. That he was comfortable with taking my struggles forever and making them his own as he shared his with me. He told me a year ago today “I’m not going anywhere.”


I relapsed later. I fought happiness, joy and love, kicking and screaming because I felt I didn’t deserve them.There is real beauty in recognizing that I don’t.


I don’t deserve them, I don’t deserve him. And I surely don’t deserve the Man that my (now) husband showed me in that season of our life and continues to every day. Jesus.


There is no way that life can explain the kind of belief and love Kyle showed me in tying his heart to mine in the midst of that time other than the reality that something else was moving in our lives. That something moving has bloomed into a relationship with our creator that renews and changes us daily, provision and reliance on something so much greater than ourselves, friends and family who have helped us to plan roots and find home in our common thread of loving our Savior… And now, a year from that scary proposal, standing in church grasping my husband’s hand with my left hand-wearing two of the diamonds from the ring he placed on my ring finger that night- and my right hand softly acknowledging the life that will be soon brought into this world as living proof of that love.


A family. A pursuit of love and goodness, faith and Godliness and peace knowing that we have something even more beautiful than this love story awaiting us daily, in our Heavenly Father.

Happy Valentine’s Day. None of us deserve the Love He so... so lavishes.

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