I hate to play Scrabble with Manuela.
Why? Because she has this annoying habit of always beating me.
Even during our years of dating, when she had an incurable case of “Richie-itis”, she was ruthless and completely humiliated me with words such as “ae”, “qat” and “xylophone”.
Regardless, I endured the mortifications, and proposed to my Scrabble Queen. So the reason I’m writing this is both to mark the occasion of our seventh wedding anniversary (May 7th) and also to reflect a bit on the great mystery of our love.
And if you think about it, this really is a mystery - especially in the case of Rich and Manuela Meloche. To begin with, Manuela and I are incompatible. I am a hermit; she is familial. I am okay with a degree of clutter; she is boarding on obsessive compulsion. I am a quasi- intellectual outdoorsman, she likes shopping and foreign films.
Had we joined a dating service, we would never have been matched, for we are not compatible. But then again, men and women really aren’t compatible. As G. K. Chesterton said, “I have known many happy marriages, but never a compatible one.”
And yet somehow it works. Despite all of my flaws, and all of hers, despite ten plus years of Scrabble embarrassment, despite hurdles too vast to imagine, it works. She knows me better than anyone else, and she still loves me (I think). I know her better than anyone else, and I still love her. I would readily lay down my life for her, and she tirelessly puts up with my shenanigans. We are really only comfortable around one another (except when we’re driving each other crazy).
Isn’t that odd, yet profoundly beautiful?
God, in his wondrous providential ordering has brought Manuela and I together, transported us into a wonderful Catholic community in Florida, and has so increased our love for one another that we now have three living byproducts of our love. How great is our God!
And so I am utterly grateful that both Manuela and I were open to God’s design, and as a consequence God has worked His increase. The satisfaction of my love is such a rich and profound thing, such a surprise. The rejection of love is such a droning pain. And a wife to love – this is satisfaction; this is enough. For from this comes all else of value in this life.
