"Anyone can show up one time. I'm looking for the person who will show up ten thousand times." - Katie Blackburn.
In talking to Marilyn yesterday, she mentioned a podcast that she wanted me to listen to; I did, and was immediately inspired for this post. The quote above is from an author that they were interviewing; Katie has a book coming out soon, and I immediately went to follow her on Instagram. While listening to the podcast, she said a couple of things that resonated within me. One is the quote that you see above. Another one was, "Divorce was never an option until it was." It stood out to Marilyn as well, since she texted it to me as I listened; I thought it was funny that I had just heard her say it, and I paused to think about it for a minute.
I promised myself (and YOU) that I wouldn't keep harping about my divorce in 2026, but alas, here I am still talking about it in April. I wish that weren't the case, but honestly, when I write about it, it's like free therapy for me. If you're tired of it all by now, I apologize. I don't want you to feel like you have to keep reading about it, and we can still be friends, I promise. But maybe someone enjoys reading about the things I think about pretty often. I'll start with Sunday of this past weekend.
I woke up in a way that I always hate: to a text from my ex-husband. Later on when I discussed this with Chris, he suggested that it was no accident that Todd texted me early on Easter Sunday (he even said, "Happy Easter!" at the end of one of them). It was as if he knew that it would almost ruin my day (or at least try to do this), and you know what? I tend to agree. It's funny how that one little thing can set off a whole trajectory of emotions and thoughts. I confess that my heart wasn't "in it" while I was at church that day, and I hate to even write that. Once the worship started, some of that feeling lifted, and I couldn't help but worship as we sang songs that are straight out of Scripture. How can you not when you sing about the hope that only Jesus offers? But still, it wasn't a great way to start off such a celebratory day. I kind of just went through the motions of that day, but the one thing I kept thinking was how grateful I was that Chris was beside me for every part.
Because even if my life is different than the hopes and dreams I had at one point, what a blessing it is to have such a wonderful man in my life. I keep seeing things on Instagram and TikTok about protecting your peace, and that's what he reminded me of as the day kind of spiraled and I kept finding out things that set off another litany of emotions. Chris was with me late in the day when I was set off again. He immediately wants to comfort me when things like this happen. I always get kind of embarrassed that I cry so easily in front of him, but I know that's a ridiculous way to think. He came around the kitchen counter (where I was leaning over), and just wrapped his arms around me. He started talking in this really low, calm voice, and it was again in that moment that I realized how much he protects my peace. He reminds me of who I am, and what I managed to get away from. And he's right.
That's just one of the ways that Chris shows up for me, like Katie talked about on that podcast. He offers a steady and consistent presence every time we're together. He lets me be one hundred percent myself, and for the first time in my life, I feel like this is the most authentic version of me that I've ever been. I'm not stifled or made to feel like my opinion doesn't matter. I don't have to "answer" to him, either; Chris fully expects that I will live my life with him in it or without him. He accepts that I have my quirks; I'm in a great mood a lot of the time, but I also tend to get into what I call a "funk". He loves me through all of the thoughts and emotions, and I do the same for him. He comes with his baggage as well, but I feel like we're so evenly matched there. We are both needy and need constant reassurance and physical touch. We often take each others hands and pull them over onto us; my favorite thing is riding in the car that he's driving with his hand on my leg.
He protects my peace in the way he listens to me—not to respond or to fix anything, but to understand and hear. There's a softness in him that I've never experienced before, and he invites my heart to unfold without fear of being "too much". Let me tell you: in a world that pulls in every direction, that kind of listening feels like shelter from rain. Peace looks like the way he stands beside me, not in front of me or behind me—just right there. It's the comfort in knowing that I don't have to walk on eggshells with him or explain why a long day often leaves me quiet. He knows, and he honors that space. He honored that space as I took a glass of wine outside Sunday evening and called my sister; I think he would have liked for me to talk to him, but he respects that Lisa is the one person on earth who can talk me off the cliff.
There's a sweetness in the small things that we share—the easy laughter, the way he notices when I'm off, or when my shoulders seem to sag a little under the weight of life at the end of a long day or week. He can turn a simple moment, like watching a sunset or eating leftovers on the couch, into something that feels like home. And maybe that's the heart of it all: when someone protects your peace, you start to feel at home in yourself again. You feel safe. Seen. Held by something strong yet gentle at the same time. Things aren't perfect in my life or in the relationship I share with Chris, but that's okay, because nothing real ever is. But it's good. It's steady. It's soul good. The kind of good that makes me breathe a little deeper and trust that, yes, I am worthy of calm, of care, of someone who chooses to bring peace instead of chaos.
People around me notice this now, the way he is with me. My mom, who never comments on relationship stuff, said something to me about this on Sunday when Chris left the table at lunch. She acknowledged how good this man is to me; it's evident in the way his eyes crinkle in a smile when he looks at me, in the way that we are always connected by touch, in the inside jokes we share, the way that we can be together and be content in the quiet, the way that he is quick to respond when he notices that I need something. Being with someone like him is a gift that I don't take lightly. It reminds me that love doesn't just change your days; it changes your pace. It teaches that peace isn't something I have to chase when I'm with someone who protects it like it matters.
Because to him, it does.
I just had to acknowledge all of this here today, because life felt heavy on Sunday. I need this constant reminder as I walk about my days. Thanks for being here to read today, friends. Thanks for always listening as I pour out my heart through writing. Your encouragement and support are everything to me. Love to all.
Jenn
