There will be an art display at the Marriage Conference. People will share their garments, and jewelry, and paintings with others, with descriptions about the origin and artist. The miracle, for me, is that in so doing the innate beauty of that piece will expand, rather than be diminished. Each person who sees and touches the fabric, or silver, will be given a dose of joy from a source that seems inexhaustible.

 

How different this economy is, from the number of chairs we set up. The venue only has so many, and based on the assumption that everyone enjoying lunch will prefer to sit, we need to schlep in a hundred more.  This is a manageable challenge given a few strong men and a truck. Yet it underscores the generosity inherent in something as simple as a painting. Even if I could quantify the hours, or talent that a painter invests in a piece, which I cannot, it is not a measure of the joy that can emerge from it. 

 

Chairs can be counted, and in the event that there are too few, we take turns. Maybe we think that marriage is like this. I get what I want on even days, and my partner gets their way on odd ones. Compromise is the best we can muster. 

 

But God seems to have another idea entirely. Because the joy does not originate in such limited reserves as the human heart, there is no end to what can pour out.