Up until the age of 24, I had no guide to help me navigate the wilderness of love and life. As a little girl, I was sure I wanted to marry my dad. Every evening as he came through the door, I would rush to embrace him. As I got older and stopped doing that, he told me how his little girl’s hugs got him through each stressful day.

My first boyfriend broke my dad’s heart more than he broke mine. He disrespected me many times by groping me in his car, and wanted to be physically intimate with me, even though I was often not comfortable with his actions. When my dad finally spotted a hickey on my neck, he flew into a rage and then broke down crying. His tears woke me up and gave me the determination to leave this boy. I thought then that love, in the form of my dad, both suffers and saves.

With the second boyfriend, I decided I would also suffer to save. He had an inferiority complex because I was a university graduate and he wasn’t, so I stayed with him for longer than I felt I was in love. I didn’t want him to think we broke up because I looked down on him. That couldn’t be further from the truth. He was a gentleman I looked up to and I felt great affection for… as a brother.

Many years later, at the age of 31, I met my husband. He was patient and kind, and incredibly cute. We would drink soya bean together after a late night movie, and I have never stopped feeling a tingling sensation inside me whenever he holds my hand. But the first few years of marriage was challenging. I discovered new, not-so-nice things about him that I would have wanted to know beforehand. His mother also made me feel very insecure and unsafe, due to her gambling habits. How did love trick me into this trap of a marriage?

Though I had never thought of leaving, it was also hard to embrace him as fully as I used to. I continued torturing myself with unforgiveness every day. Then, one day, while flipping through the church booklet we had designed for our wedding day, I read these lines: Bear with one another; forgive each other as soon as a quarrel begins. The Lord has forgiven you; now you must do the same. A few pages down, there was also a line for the cantor, which says: What God has united, man must not divide. Filled with shame, I realised I had put a divide between my husband and I. God had brought us together and blessed our union, but I had been stubborn, refusing to accept my husband’s multiple attempts at saying sorry.

The Lord has always been merciful to me. He corrects me when I do something wrong, and prunes me to bear fruit, keeping me always connected to him, the true vine. How can I not show forgiveness when forgiveness has been repeatedly shown to me?

God’s presence—His love—can transform emotions and guide any wayward heart. He guided mine. When I allowed my husband the space and time to share, I realised there was nothing there for me to be upset about at all. He loves me as much as any man can, and truth be told, he loves me very well. We give things up for each other. I would give up sleep to do laundry, and he would give up his precious computer time to cuddle with me. How little we sacrifice for love, don’t you think? But a start is better than none at all. We have a lifetime together to strive towards the perfection of God’s love, helping each other to grow in holiness to gain our eternal sanctity. That is what marriage is for.

Now when I wonder about love, God’s love is my guiding light. His Word brings wisdom to steady my fickle heart, and to teach it His ways over my own.

By Serene Frances

• Do you learn about love from God or from man?
• What do you know of God’s love in your life?
• How does your love for others model God’s love and how do you share that love with others?