A Marriage Reflection

Reflected in love.

Last Sunday’s Gospel came from John 13. I’ve heard it many times. Jesus gives that new commandment to His disciples: “Love one another. As I have loved you, so you also should love one another.” But this time, it hit me differently.

I quickly took a moment to look around the church. I saw husbands and wives standing side by side. Some were holding children. Some were older couples still holding hands like they were teenagers. Some couples stood with arms linked. Others stood in silent unity. And I realized something. These weren’t just people attending Mass. They were couples living out that Gospel command. They were choosing love, not just as a feeling, but as a daily act of faithfulness. They were living their Sacrament.

I looked over at the choir and saw my wife singing. At that moment, I found myself thinking, I am so blessed to have her in my life. A warmth came over my heart. That warmth I felt wasn’t just from the moment. It was something deeper. It was a reminder of a truth I had once forgotten or maybe never fully understood.

The truth is, I didn’t always know what love really was.

Growing up, I don’t remember hearing my parents say “I love you” to each other. If they said it in private, I never witnessed it. That absence shaped how I understood love. In my younger years, I bounced from relationship to relationship, always searching for something I couldn’t define. When the excitement faded or things became difficult, I moved on. I believed love was supposed to be effortless or constantly thrilling. If I stopped feeling it, I assumed it was gone.

But that kind of love doesn’t last. It isn’t the love Jesus spoke of in the Gospel. And it certainly isn’t the love the Church proclaims in the Sacrament of Marriage.

There came a point in my life when I reached rock bottom. I felt like love had abandoned me. I even told a friend I didn’t know if I loved my wife the way she deserved to be loved. I was buried in shame and lost in sin. I didn’t know how to fix my life. I believed I had failed not just my marriage but love itself.

Then, after a long overdue confession and a painful reckoning with the brokenness inside me, I encountered something real — God’s Love. A love not based on what I had done or how well I had performed, but simply on who I was. I came to understand that I was a son of God. He loved me, not because I had earned it, but because He had claimed me. And unlike the silence I grew up with, God never stops saying it. Over and over in Scripture, He tells us that He loves us. In His Word, in His mercy, in His Son, He speaks the love we all long to hear.

And through all of it, my wife remained by my side. She never walked away. Even in the darkest hours, when I didn’t deserve her kindness, she stayed. She believed in me. She prayed for me. She showed me what enduring love really looks like.

Marriage isn’t about romance or attraction alone. It isn’t a contract or a checklist. It isn’t about tax breaks or better insurance. Marriage is a sacred covenant that binds a couple together under God and within His Church. It is the journey of two souls walking side by side toward Heaven. It is not always easy, but it is always holy.

I once read that the strongest marriages are often between best friends. I believe that. Sometimes it takes years to grow that kind of connection. Sometimes it arrives like grace, sudden and unmistakable. Either way, real love takes effort. It takes sacrifice. It takes God.

I remember when I started praying again, really praying, and I asked God what He wanted from me. I asked Him what my purpose was. That’s when I realized something important. No matter where life led, I needed her. My wife was the compass pointing me toward God’s plan. But I had to put God first before I could see that the one I needed most had been standing right next to me all along.

I often reflect on the vows we said on our wedding day. I made sure we included every part — in sickness and in health, for better or worse, in good times and in bad. But at the time, I didn’t fully understand what those words meant. Not until I invited God back into the center of my life. Once I did, I saw clearly that what I promised her was a reflection of what God had already promised me. His love is unfailing, undeserved, and unconditional.

C.S. Lewis once wrote in The Four Loves:

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken.”

That is marriage. You give your whole heart to someone. You know life may hurt you. You know they might hurt you too. But you trust that love is still worth it. It may not always feel safe, but it is always sacred.

Marriage is meant to reflect God’s love for us. When one of us is hurting, the other holds steady. When one is falling, the other reaches out. When both are tired, we lean into God’s strength. That is the kind of love Jesus was commanding. Not shallow romance. Not a passing feeling. But covenant love. Lifelong love. The kind that says, I have seen your worst, and I still choose you.

The world throws a lot at marriages. Money problems. Busy schedules. Temptation. Sin. There is always something trying to drive a wedge between husband and wife. But when your marriage is built on God’s love, none of that can break the bond. Real love always wins.

Pope Francis once gave advice to couples that I think about often. He said:

“Never end the day without making peace in the home. Never, never, never. A small gesture is enough. A caress, a hello, a smile, and peace is made.”

That is the kind of love I want to live. The kind that apologizes first. The kind that forgives easily. The kind that keeps no record of wrongs. The kind that prays, listens, laughs, cries, and stays.

Marriage is not just a ceremony or a milestone. It is a daily choice. A daily surrender. A daily laying down of your life for the one God has entrusted to you. It is God’s love made visible in the world.

As the Mass came to a close, I looked back at the choir. My wife was still up there singing the closing hymn, smiling in the light from the stained glass. That same warmth came rushing back. I stood there and remembered that whatever happens in the world, we have each other. God. Family. Love. That is our foundation. 

So, if you are struggling in your marriage or questioning what love really is, don’t give up. Look at the cross. Look at the altar. Look at the one beside you. Love is not just what survives the storms. It is what builds a way through them. Love is faith. Love is mercy. Love is two people walking each other toward Heaven.