One of the funny things about being married for 25 years is realizing the person you married doesn't actually exist anymore.

Before anyone gets concerned—Jermaine is still very much here.

But 25-year-ago Jermaine?

He's changed.

And so have I.

Twenty-five years ago, you would have had a hard time getting me into a pair of sneakers. I was a heels girl. Today? I have a sneaker collection that younger Catron would probably have some questions about.

I've changed in bigger ways too.

There was a time when I was much more adventurous and always ready for the next thing. These days, after raising children, building businesses, working, worrying, planning and simply living a full life, sometimes what sounds most exciting to me is peace.

Give me somewhere comfortable, good food, the people I love and absolutely nothing I have to do.

That sounds like a wonderful day.

Jermaine has changed too.

The man who once cared a whole lot more about designer labels doesn't need nearly as much of that anymore.

Some of his changes, though, have come through much harder experiences.

Over the years, Jermaine has lost his immediate family. Loss has a way of changing the way you love the people who remain.

I've watched it make him hold me and our children a little tighter.

Sometimes, if I'm being truthful, very tightly.

He's protective. He wants to know we're okay. He values time together differently because life has taught him firsthand that time isn't promised.

And I've had to learn that this version of Jermaine deserves to be understood for who he is now—not only through the lens of the young man I married.

That's one of the things 25 years has taught us:

Marriage requires constantly getting reacquainted.

The person you married will experience things you cannot protect them from.

They'll lose people.

Change careers.

Become parents.

Heal from things.

Develop new dreams.

Let go of old ones.

They may become softer in some places and stronger in others.

And you will too.

The challenge is resisting the temptation to say, "But you never used to be like this."

Sometimes that's exactly the point.

They're growing.

Marriage isn't just loving who someone was when you chose them.

It's learning how to love the people you both become along the way.

That doesn't mean every change is easy or that growth automatically happens in the same direction or at the same pace.

Sometimes you have to stop and learn each other again.

Ask new questions.

Make room for different needs.

And occasionally accept that your wife now owns more sneakers than either of you ever anticipated.

That's marriage too.

25 Years in 25 Lessons

Lesson #3: Keep getting to know the person you married.

Don't love them only for who they were.

Make room for who they're becoming.

And give yourself that same grace.

Sunday Reflection

Think about the person you love today.

How have they changed over the years?

Instead of wishing for an older version of them, what might happen if you became curious about who they're becoming?

Maybe one of the greatest gifts we can give each other is the freedom to grow—and the willingness to keep learning one another along the way.

Until next Sunday,

Catron & Jermaine Turner
JPix Studio

Twenty-five years. Countless lessons. Still learning.

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