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Frequently, while socialising with friends, conversations turn jokey, about how awful married life is. Analogies of prison are often invoked, causing much hilarity all around.

But I tend to be quite frank with friends at this point. I don’t relate to that vision at all. For me, marriage was and is a huge mercy, for which daily I am in awe.

It’s not that we live in pure bliss. We wind each other up at times. We don’t always see eye-to-eye. Perhaps we each have habits which annoy the other. But on balance, its good far outweighs anything negative.

For sure, after the honeymoon there were lemonmoons, gingermoons, peppermoons, chillimoons. Every period of life brings its trials and tests. As in life in general, there will always be ups and downs.

But for me, given all the burdens I carried before we met, our union was a gift so immense that only sincere gratitude seems a fitting response.

I’m sorry if that makes me a killjoy in moments of jovial play, but really, I could never belittle the generosity of the One who brought two strangers together, bestowing love and affection between us. In this, liberation, not constriction.