Each day we’re exposed to something new, and consequently we’re never quite the same again. This means we’re not the same person we were yesterday, and who will be tomorrow is not yet fully known either. And this is true with everyone else in our house as well, which means our practice of love requires us to constantly rediscover the strangers who do life with us.
Of course, some continuity with our past remains, and so we’re not complete strangers to ourselves or each other. But it is a mistake to assume, for example, the woman who walked down the aisle on our wedding day is the exact same woman we’re married to today. While she’s familiar in many ways, and we have a shared history together, she has grown and changed over the years, as we have as well. And this requires us to rediscover each other anew in this season of life.
On the one hand, this is often frustrating – what worked yesterday no longer works today. It’s a subtle change that’s hard for either one of us to clearly name at first, but we notice the friction that something is different. And we might continue to step on each other’s toes until we figure it out. In our less gracious moments this can also lead to much blame, criticism, and contempt.
On the other hand, this change brings a fresh, virginal anticipation to our life and relationships. For instance, even if we go to the same vacation spot each year, there’s a sense in which we get fresh experience based on who each other are today, and not who we were last year. This makes it a new adventure even when many aspects are still very familiar.
It’s in this way we must learn to love our wife, kids, and everyone else close to us. They’re familiar strangers – known while constantly being rediscovered.
In the end, discover again the strangers in your own home. While you have a shared history together, they’re not the same person they were yesterday, and neither are you.
Photo by Vitaly Gariev on Unsplash
