8 years ago, my brother, Ben, got married. For the first time in his life, he was in love. And the girl? She was the perfect match for him and the best addition to our family.
When Jen married my brother all those years ago, I knew little about her impact on my life. She was sweet and so cute, and she made Ben incredibly happy. I loved her immediately. I remember how effortlessly beautiful she looked on her wedding day - how Ben got emotional when he saw her and how I loved seeing my big brother love someone like that.
Today, on their anniversary, I'm so thankful that God brought these two together. My gratitude is mostly self-centered - Jen has become one of my closest friends and someone I've come to love and trust so much. She has loved me through new beginnings, a year in different countries, my own marriage, our miscarriage, and so many other life events. Jen has been a listener and an empathizer.
In these 8 years, though, this last one with Jen has taught me the most. Sometime this past summer, Jen started having terrible back pain. It started with minor aches and gradually, over a period of a couple months, escalated to severe, almost crippling pain. For months, she lived in pain and frustration. She visited doctors and specialists, seeking answers to the various health issues she was facing every day.
For much of this time, I'd talk with Jen about how painful life was. The physical pain was one thing, and it was definitely difficult, but the way her family's life flipped upside down was often the hardest part. She struggled to care for her son, to do household chores, to focus on anything but the pain and the issues with her body. As her family, we saw the burden of this time for her and for Ben. It was painful. And it was long.
Through all of these months of pain, though, Jen was incredibly honest. I learned how to suffer alongside her. She would have some days of sheer frustration and anger and some days with a positive attitude and hope for good news. I learned how to ask for help - even when it's difficult. There were many days that I knew Jen would have preferred doing things on her own but physically was unable. And yet, she never seemed defeated by accepting humility or depending on people. She just seemed to grow in gratitude and vulnerability.
Jen also taught me that trusting God in suffering is difficult, but necessary. I remember her saying to me, "We often ask 'Why God', but we could be asking 'Why not? Why do we think we should be exempt?'" She was learning so much about suffering and pain and God's presence in it all. Walking with her through some of that felt like a privilege. So often, people hide the real process of struggle and trust during a difficult time. Jen let me in. She let me see good days and bad ones. And she showed me how to hold on to God's steadiness, even if getting there took a long time.
There's been a lot of improvement and release of pain in Jen's life. God has done a lot of healing in her body and in her understanding of his plans. I've seen her go from moving only with the assistance of a cane or walker to jumping in and out of the car as we Christmas shopped together. Some questions have been answered about her health issues, but there are still more complications. In all of this, though - the waiting, the ups and downs, the pain and the progress - Jen has seen God as good. I am often reminded of how incredible her trust is and how beautiful it's been to see God care for their family.
I was given a sister-in-law 8 years ago. Today, she is my friend and my affirmer. She is a teacher and a mentor in so many ways. I see her life as a testament to God's goodness in the midst of junk and pain, and I'm thankful for how he walks with us. Jen has walked through that valley that we all try to avoid. And she is more radiant than ever with the grace and restoration of Christ.