Hazzard Hearts

Sometimes, love just sneaks up on you.

Brett and I have never been highly romantic people.

We ARE both affectionate and loving toward one another. I’ve never doubted his love for me, and I hope the same is true on his end.

However, after being married nearly nine years and going through all the marriage trials we’ve gone through – particularly adding in all the stress of this past year - sometimes you get stuck in a rut. You know you love each other, but it becomes part of your personal scenery.

“Yeah, I’m married. Yeah, to that guy.”

The high passion of first love can get mired in the everyday.

Brett is the only man I have ever kissed. It wasn’t because I was some high-falutin’ don’t-kiss-until-you-get-married whack job or pure as the driven snow. The full truth is Brett is the only guy I’ve ever wanted to kiss.

(Realistically, I mean. All Hollywood leading lips fantasies, aside.)

I’ve never regretted it and hold that truth dear. I thank God for protecting my heart and giving me a love that was wholly and fully returned by a man who wants it to last our lifetime. I consider myself blessed.

Not to say that it hasn’t been - that it isn’t - hard. Marriage is by far the hardest thing I have ever taken part of in my life.

But what’s that old saying? You appreciate it more when you have to work for it?

In my case, that’s true. Every light at the end of the tunnel, every lift, every moment of joy, I recognize as such. I’ve learned not to take progress for granted. It sustains me through the dark times and thrills me during the high points.

Lately, both of us feel like we are just existing, just surviving. Like we were – are – getting by only by holding tightly to the grace of God. We’ve had tunnel vision as we watch our pennies, look for an apartment, pack, prepare for Sam, search for jobs, and pray, pray, pray for provision.

Last night, we went to Wal-Mart to buy more packing containers. I was driving, and on the way home, Brett urged me to go through an arrow that was just turning yellow. I complied, and as I swerved into the left lane, I teased him.

“You just want me to be in trouble with the law!”

Those words seemed to bring up an old memory, and before I knew it, I was humming along –

“Been in trouble with the law
Since the day they was born”

As I wracked my brain to recall where those words were from, Brett piped up with –

“Just'a good ol' boys
Never meanin' no harm.
Beats all you never saw
Been in trouble with the law
Since the day they was born”

“The Dukes of Hazzard,” I exclaimed. “That’s right.”

We started an impromptu concert, finally managing to put all the lyrics together.

“Just'a good ol' boys
Never meanin' no harm.
Beats all you never saw
Been in trouble with the law
Since the day they was born

Staightnin' the curves
Flatnin’ the hills
Someday the mountain might get 'em
But the law never will

Makin' their way
The only way they know how
That's just a little bit more
Than the law will allow.

Makin' their way
The only way they know how
That's just a little bit more
Than the law will allow.

I'm a good ol' boy
You know my momma loves me
But she don't understand
They keep a showin’ my hands and not my face on TV”

By the time we got home, we were laughing so hard, we were almost crying. The laughter peeled the stress off, layer by layer.

I spent the rest of the night sorting and packing. Brett worked by my side toting, hauling, and arranging. We couldn’t stop smiling at each other. It was like the spark that brought us together had somehow, surprisingly, re-kindled and was burning brightly.

When we tumbled into bed, exhausted but fulfilled by all we’d gotten done, I said the same thing I say every night, but with more fervor and appreciation.

“I love you.”

Brett mumbled the same sentiment before promptly dropping off to sleep. And snoring almost immediately.

I stayed awake for a minute, feeling Sam’s feather light kicks, and thought how I really do love my husband.

Even if it’s easy to forget sometimes.