Love them well

News of Mark Sanford has barely left my mind since yesterday.  My first reaction was shock.  I didn’t see it coming.  And then I was just sad.  I knew the hate would come for him as a conservative man who has fought for marriage and has now in all likelihood ruined one with his own infidelity.  It seems so hypocritical.  But I can tell you with every fiber of my being you can believe in marriage, your marriage even, and yet still find yourself where he is.  I was hesitant to read their published emails but was drawn to see the details of what kind of relationship they had.  And then his story got personal.  So much of what he is feeling is all too familiar.  A few lines stand out to me.

How in the world this lightening strike snuck up on us I am still not quite sure. As I have said to you before I certainly had a special feeling about you from the first time we met, but these feelings were contained and I genuinely enjoyed our special friendship and the comparing of all too many personal notes (and yes this is true even if you did occasionally tantalize me with sexual details over the years!) — but it was all safe. Where we are is not.

In all my life I have lived by a code of honor and at a variety of levels know I have crossed lines I would have never imagined.

The rarest of all commodities in this world is love. It is that thing that we all yearn for at some level — to be simply loved unconditionally for nothing more than who we are — not what we can get, give or become.

As I mentioned in our last visit, while I did not need love fifteen years ago — as the battle scars of life and aging and politics have worn on this has become a real need of mine.

He has it right.  We all need and want love.  And it’s not just a pat on the back at the end of the day, a card, a kiss.  It’s that feeling that the other person treats you like a King or Queen.  That no matter what you did or what you said they’d stand by you.  It’s knowing that they are just WAITING for an excuse to tell you something good about yourself.  It’s that quality of a relationship that left untended dies.  And really?  It’s not so much fun having to work to get back.

And when that part dies, years down the road you find your emotional bank at an all-time low.  You’re looking, searching for that love, that feeling that we all crave.  And then someone comes along out of nowhere and makes a small deposit and you take it and cherish it.  And then it happens again and again if allowed, each time crawling closer to some imaginary line you had drawn in the sand.  A line that suddenly without realizing it you cross and make a new one.  And that happens over and over and over.  Some lines are crossed as fast as lightning and then others it takes time.

And suddenly your deposits are just secrets ready to ruin every single part of your life.  And when they come out, you find yourself crying for five days in Argentina.  And you’re not JUST crying because you’re ashamed or sorry that you’re hurting so many people.  You’re crying because you know the deposits will be gone.  That a person you trust and love so much will never be there like they have been.  And you cry because you feel sorry for yourself.

And as saddened as I am for Jenny and their sons, I’m saddened for Mark.  Because I know he’s hurting.  No matter how or why he got there, no matter how much he wants to put the genie back in the bottle, no matter how much he loves his wife, he’s come to depend on the other person.  And now?  He has a choice to make and a hard road ahead of him.  None of it is pretty.  None of it is fun.  And the worse part is he’s doing it for the public.

If you think you’re marriage is above this happening, think again.  Go figure out how to love your spouse and love them well.  Tell them how they can love you.   For some, that’s easy.  But for others, it’s a struggle.  And I’m sorry for that.  I truly am.  But I think I can speak for Mark and say it’s better than the alternative.