We all have that childhood friend…our homie…our ride or die…our best friend through the storms…often irreplaceable, can’t live without companion…that’s right friends, I’m talking about your lovie.
Maybe your lovie was a blanket or a bear. Mine was a hardcore, bedraggled, used to be yellow {I think?} rabbit blanket, known only by one name – Rabbie. It’s been so long since Rabbie was new {we’re talking 30 years here, people} that I can barely remember what he looked like at first. I’m fairly certain he started off life with 2 ears, 2 eyes, 2 felt pink cheeks. Definitely no holes. Smooth satiny edges all the way around. Now that I think about it, he was definitely yellow and white. Fast forward through life’s adventures and poor Rabbie is down to one droopy ear and some scraps of satin, still left from when I would rub it to soothe myself to sleep as a little girl. Rabbie has been, well… well loved.
When I was a little girl, I loved stories. Books were my magical escape into past worlds bigger and more beautiful than I could imagine. Rabbie went on many a reading adventure with me. Then there’s always those special books – books that you could read over and over again that still strike your heart with timeless affection. Books that, by the very words on the page, send you reminiscing to where you were and who you were the first time you read them. For me, one of those books was the story of the Velveteen Rabbit – the story of a sweet velveteen bunny given to a little boy. The boy had loved and played with his bunny, had snuggled him when sick and the Velveteen Rabbit had stuck by his side through the worst of fevers. The boy loved his rabbit so much that he often wished he was real. And the Velveteen Rabbit wished the same with all his heart.
“Real isn’t how you are made,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.’
‘Does it hurt?’ asked the Rabbit.
‘Sometimes,’ said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. ‘When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.’
‘Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,’ he asked, ‘or bit by bit?’
‘It doesn’t happen all at once,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”
The hard part about becoming “real” is that you have to go through a bit of a Mess first to get there.
As time went on, Rabbie found his way into a box somewhere – and was replaced by someone much better to snuggle with. My husband.
I was looking at him this morning and thinking about all the ways life has “rubbed the fur” off us lately. There are certainly parts of me that are not where they were when we started this journey of life together. {All the praise hands for SPANX!} Parts of him that have gotten softer with time. We have been broken and repaired and even though life threatened to toss us out, we have survived by each other’s side. Even with some “fur rubbed off”, I can’t imagine loving him more.
We are entering into our 13th year together – 11 being married. Life has a crazy way of playing itself out. There are some years that have been complete cakewalks – like the boy and his velveteen rabbit, simply playing their games endlessly in the field, dreaming big dreams and enjoying one another’s company. There are others we faced that rock us to our core – sometimes altogether paralyzing us – much like the boy in the story when he faced the scarlet fever. The velveteen rabbit stayed by his side – even when nurses wanted to throw him out. When I look back on our history as a couple and on other couples who have walked with us – my heart hurts for their struggles. Some couple friends we have known have not been so fortunate and have seen their love burn up in the fever, get tossed out, as a worn toy that someone could no longer bear to keep. Others have endured their pain, allowed their “fur” to be rubbed off, allowed their joints to get loose and as partners, embraced the “shabby” – the hard parts of life that make us “real”.
But for my husband and I, I feel like we are stepping into our season of “real”. I’m certain there are days when I would look at myself and say “whew…that’s the best it’s going to get.” – He takes my shoulders and tells me he loves me. When he feels anxious or discouraged, I wrap my arms around him and remind him of how courageous he is in my eyes. The fur has been rubbed off – the sharp edges smoothed.
If you are struggling in your marriage, please take heart and hear the wisdom that only comes once life has worn down my new edges. Allow the fur to be rubbed off. Draw close to each other when parts become broken and worn down. Endure the “fever” closer together and not farther apart. {I know it’s hot. I know it’s uncomfortable. I know it hurts.} Seek repairs when things aren’t functioning as they should. Don’t let any “well-intending nurses” to tell you to toss old things by the wayside to make way for the bright and shiny new.
A broken, well worn love is not as pretty as a bright, shiny new toy… but being “Real?” That’s a rare and messy treasure.
The Glorious Mess 