Marriage Moats-Where's Waldo?

Published: Sat, 02/19/11

Marriage Moats

Caring for Marriage

There have been a number of books and games over the years that challenge people to look harder. Where's Waldo and I Spy are two that have been popular for a a couple of decades. Like oodles of other children, they had my brood pouring over complex pictures for hours, looking for the little man in stripes, or the blue car. When anyone found it, he or she exercised great restraint before telling her sibs about it. Maybe one second, tops.

It captured their sense of adventure, just like an old fashioned treasure hunt or scavenger hunt. There were times in my parenting career when I would have my kids draw the pictures, hide the clues, and then find them, all without me leaving the chair where I nursed the baby. There seems to be an insatiable desire for discovery that keeps them riveted to the task.

Grown ups do it too. I know people who are highly trained in search and rescue. They have learned what the signs are that a person has traveled this way, and are intensely motivated to follow them. How many movie scripts are based on the dogged determination of a policeman, FBI agent or bumbling detective, who risks his life and overcomes incredible odds to find the suspect?

Imagine if someone sent you on a treasure hunt, only instead of one Big Prize at the finale, there were scads of delightfully hidden treasures sprinkled over a lifetime?

Well He did and you are.

The question remains, not whether such blessings are indeed buried in the discreet corners of your routine, but whether you will find them. It takes effort. It depends on you believing that they exist at all. It also requires that you recognize them when you see them, for like some of the characters in high action films, they can wear disguises.

One time I was sick. I mean, don't-ask-me-to-stand-up-and- function-sick. This poorly timed malady fell upon me in the midst of hi speed parenting, when efficiency was my motto as I tried to feed, clothe and transport a litter of children. But there was no pretense of efficiency happening in this little interlude. So I caved on getting anything done and just lay on my son's floor while he played. It was not my idea of a well spent afternoon, until I started to slow down enough to simply be with him.

He talked. I listened. We smiled. No one hurried or multi tasked. I remembered why he was a nice little boy to have around. It was a blessing, cleverly masquerading as a problem.

Another time my husband and I were entrenched in one of those inane arguments where nobody wins and everybody loses but neither of us had the I.Q to get off a sinking ship. Then he glanced out the window and saw the bright curve of a rainbow. He looked harder and saw it was a double rainbow! He grabbed my hand and pulled me outside where we stood in silence. All the arguments expired. Every point we had been lining up like army men fell off the board, and we breathed. So much beauty, and we could so easily have missed it. We were looking for counterfeit blessings like I am Right and You are Wrong, instead of finding the Real McCoy peeking between the maple trees.

I am impressed at the tenacity of my children, all those years they sat on the couch looking for the little red and white striped man. Not once did they ever try for a slim sixty seconds, snap the book shut and declare "Nothing on that page." They truly believed he was there, and the effort it took to sleuth him out crescendoed, not diminished.

And they were right of course. He was there, on every page. No typos by this author.

Your Author has faithfully put blessings on every page of your life. Look deeply. Smile broadly when you find them, and don't delay more than a second to tell your spouse.

Photo by Jenny Stein