I don't promise people things.
I am in a profession where I have been taught not to promise things, because the reality is that there are a whole lot of things in this world that I cannot deliver on.
I cannot promise children that adults will make the right choices to keep them safe and healthy. I cannot promise a husband or wife that their spouse will stop fooling around. I cannot promise anyone that this journey of life will get easier.
So, in my life, I have promised little to few.
But to my husband, I have promised much. I have promised, through the mismatched sentences of our non-traditional wedding vows, a lot. I am oddly protective of our wedding vows, so I won't share them with you today. Just know that they hit on the usual stuff of sickness and health, successes and failures, and entering into this agreement (or promise) with limited knowledge of how things will change over time. And knowing that they will change.
I vow to come for you, if you wait for me.
Yesterday, I came across a story of man who was a prisoner of war in Vietnam for 6 years. And, because I am empathic and relational (and self-centered), my thoughts immediately went to, "What if that were my husband?" How would I manage if he were gone for 6 years, possibly not knowing if he was dead or alive, if he was coming home at all? What would I do?
I would wait. For 6 years. For 60 years. I would wait.
Trusting that, in war, if I wait, he would return for me. Knowing that, if it's within his physical and mental capacity, he will come for me.
I vow to come for you, if you wait for me.
And as an adoptive momma, I think of this song too. A promise to our babies. That long before they are in our arms, in our home, in our country--possibly before they were even born, we made a promise to ourselves, each other, God, and them, that we are coming for them.
Together again, it would feel so good to be,
In your arms, where all my journeys end,
If you can make a promise, if it's one that you can keep,
I vow to come for you,
If you wait for me.
I promise.
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