It’s not the trail of sugar that I find near the coffee maker every morning. And it’s not even the way he lays clothes on top of the dirty clothes hamper rather than in it, as if I’m to decide on my own devices whether those garments are dirty or clean. No, despite the many idiosyncrasies that my spouse possesses it’s not those character traits that make me realize that the man I married is far from perfect.
Sometimes when I’m feeling low I may desire a certain response to come from his lips, but it’s not his failure to do so that makes me finally understand I didn’t find the perfect man.
He doesn’t always agree with me on issues. In fact, we often see particular things in a completely different light. But it’s not his inability to think like me that makes me believe he is utterly imperfect.
I don’t know about men, but as a woman you grow up with certain expectations for your spouse. It starts with fairy tale stories and Disney movies that paint the picture of a perfect Prince Charming, and as you age you are privy to plenty of romance films displaying beautiful love stories on screen.
Who could forget when Tom Cruise told Renee Zellweger in Jerry Maguire “you complete me”?
I mean they were real. They had real problems, but somehow their love was perfect. One word for you. Swoon!
In real-life love you discover a few truths along the way, and suddenly in marriage you are awakened by a cold glass of water splashed in your face. This abrupt realization shocks you out of the honeymoon phase, and you understand that being married isn’t a constant vacation with trips to the opera or strolls on sandy beaches before a candlelit dinner and magical lovemaking. Instead it’s actually work.
It’s not fun all the time. You’re not always in the mood. You don’t always feel sexy. Your partner disagrees with you on important matters, and doesn’t say “I’m sorry” first. Forget the socks in the floor, hair in the bathtub, or personal hygiene products flowing out of the trash. More importantly they hurt your feelings, and they don’t give you the time, romance, or compliments you thought were in store. That idea of the perfect mate is dashed, and you realize they don’t complete you. They just complicate you.
I realize I didn’t find the perfect man, but it’s okay. Because he never was meant to be perfect. I think of all the ways I fall short. The moody days, the overthinking, or my extreme sensitive nature. Or even the faults that I don’t realize are there. I think of how imperfect I am, and I realize I couldn’t live with someone who wasn’t broken too. As it is we’re two broken people making a life together, and lifting up the other when weakness steps in.
My husband doesn’t complete me. He compliments me, and together we’re a mighty force indeed, but it’s our reliance on Jesus to strengthen our marriage that makes two imperfect people whole and in essence complete.
I didn’t find the perfect man, but I don’t expect perfection like this world teaches. I only expect an open heart willing to love me in all my own faults and imperfections. In that he does succeed, and although that doesn’t make him perfect, it does make him perfect for me.
And because of that, because of his determination and commitment to love me for me I don’t even put much merit in things like leftover sugar, discarded socks, or hair in the sink. Somehow his perfectly imperfect love for me makes all the other stuff fade away, and perhaps some days, or rather most days, I feel like I have found my Prince Charming after all.