(If you want to hear Lori read the story click) here

I knew a woman in California who had triplets with red hair. Then she adopted a little girl named Martha. A few years later they got a dog. 

 

When Martha was four the dog started doing destructive things, and my friend felt she could not handle all those kids and a pet, so she gave the dog away. Shortly after that Martha started acting out even beyond the spectrum of routine four year old naughtiness.  My friend was frazzled.

 

One day she was holding Martha after a particularly hellacious tantrum, when the little girl screamed what she had been afraid of all along.

 

Her mother was stunned. She grabbed tightly around her sobbing daughter and rocked her.

 

"We love you, and we will never, never, never give you away. You are ours for always and forever." They cried together for a long time.

 

There was a time early in my parenting when I had trouble staying on an even keel. If my kids were being adorable, I loved them. If they were fighting, I resented them. If they were not doing chores, I was angry with them. I started a simple practice that I kept up for awhile to help us keep from going under.

 

"Do I love you when you are happy?"

 

"Yes!"

 

"Do I love you when you are sleeping?"

 

"Yes!"

 

"Do I love you when you are far away from me?"

 

"Yes!"

 

"Do I love you when you are ornery?"

 

"Yes!"

 

"Do i love you when you are sick?"

 

"Yes!"

 

I made up all sorts of conditions, and they adored knowing the answer was always yes. To tell the truth, I needed the reminder too. Regularly.

 

The magic about marriage is not that we love each other when everything is great. It is that we still love each other, or at least bend in that direction against the gales that blow us apart.

 

Does John love me when the house is messy? Yes.

 

Did he love me when he was on another continent? Yes.

 

We do this not because it is easy. We learn to do it because crying in one another's arms is better than crying all alone.